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The thrill of capturing the attention of young men lies in the way their youthful glimmer of hope shines in their eyes. They haven’t yet learned to conceal their hearts or dim their smiles. Their openness allows their love to spill out at his feet. Tsurumi witnesses this time and again—with Usami, Ogata, and Koito. Edogai is no exception. The taxidermist crumples under Tsurumi’s praise like a housecat looking for a warm lap to sit upon. “Why the shyness?” Tsurumi teases, as fingers delicately peel the human-leather vest away from Edogai's chest.
They are already entangled, just days after their fateful meeting. It takes no time at all for him to pull the mousy-brunette into his arms late one night. Edogai is more than excited to welcome Tsurumi into his workspace, already apple-cheeked and eager. But he hesitates now, as Tsurumi nears fulfilling his fantasies. “Did I do something wrong?”
Edogai quickly shook his head, the motion so frantic it made Tsurumi dizzy to watch. He couldn't risk letting this opportunity slip away. "N-no, never! It's just-ah..." Tsurumi didn't give him room to think. His broad palms returned to Edogai's smooth, hairless chest—softened by the homemade lotions and creams he made for himself and the others.
At 21 years old, Edogai's skin is as smooth as a child's. If he were clever, he could bottle and sell his personal concoctions to wealthy women who would pay anything for such flawless tightness. Tsurumi flicks a perked pink nipple, grinning as the action sends a violent shiver down Edogai's spine. He is so sensitive, so reactive—the virginal appearance is no act.
He is undeniably adorable, his bottom lip quivering as he fumbles to articulate his emotions. Tsurumi finds it increasingly hard to resist him, captivated by the smooth, unblemished planes of his flat stomach. Unlike the muscular military men who dominate Tsurumi’s daily life, this unassuming craftsman from the countryside leads a comfortable, sheltered existence; unblemished…untouched.
Tsurumi inhales sharply through his teeth as Edogai throws his head back, his wide, glassy eyes glistening with unshed tears. Despite his terrified expression, Edogai’s hands cling tightly to Tsurumi’s arms, keeping them wrapped securely around his slender frame from behind. He presses himself closer, deliberately leaning into Tsurumi’s chest, acutely aware of the older man’s arousal pressing against his lower back, leaving no room for doubt that he wants this.
Although Tsurumi can’t help but wonder if Edogai is more terrified than he lets on, a tentative touch to the front seam of his trousers reveals a lack of response, his usual hair-trigger reactions seemingly absent. Yet, despite this, Edogai still arches his hips upward into the gentle caress, a subtle contradiction that leaves Tsurumi intrigued.
“Wait!” Edogai’s fingers dig weakly into Tsurumi’s forearms, his attempt to halt him feeble at best. Tsurumi pauses, allowing Edogai a moment to collect himself. “Are we… I mean, I’m not sure where this is going,” Edogai says, his voice shaky with uncertainty.
That won’t do. Tsurumi can’t let this hidden gem feel uncertain, not when he is so close to being polished to perfection. The Lieutenant won’t be around for long, with a lengthy list of criminals to pursue. Soon, he will have to leave Edogai in Tsukishima’s care, and who knows when he might have another chance to visit this quiet, rainy village.
If Tsurumi wants to sink his teeth into this young man and be the first to leave a mark, he must
ease him into some light nibbling. His bearded chin rests on Edogai's shoulder, his words brushing past his ear.
“I’d like to make you feel good,” Tsurumi murmurs, his voice low and soothing as his hand pets Edogai’s stomach. “You must be nervous, never doing something like this before.”
He pauses, letting his lips graze Edogai’s earlobe, resisting the urge to draw it between his teeth. “But if you’re not ready…” He wishes he could wait, but that’s no longer an option. Edogai must bend to his will now or never.
Tsurumi leans closer, pressing their cheeks together so he can watch his hands from Edogai’s perspective. “Please, my sweet boy. Just let me take care of you.”
His hands move lower, signaling his intent to strip away the rest of Edogai’s clothes. “I can make you feel so good,” he promises, confident in his ability and Edogai’s naivety. “Don’t you trust me?”
He turns his face, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Edogai’s lips, deliberately missing their center. He’s fortunate that Edogai can’t see the smirk tugging at his own lips when he hears the faint hitch in the young man’s breath.
“I just… I don’t want to disappoint you,” Edogai chokes out, his voice trembling, his words laced with such raw nervousness that it sounds as though he’s on the verge of tears.
Tsurumi brings a hand to Edogai’s chin, turning his head so they’re facing each other, studying his expression closely. Edogai isn’t afraid of Tsurumi—not exactly. His fear is something else, something deeper: the fear of not being enough for someone.
It’s Tsurumi’s favorite indulgence, a flavor he’s savored on the lips of all his men: Usami, who would kill anyone who outshines him for Tsurumi’s attention; Tsukishima, whose worth hinges on being useful, fearing he’ll be nothing without it; and Ogata, so desperate for a father’s love that he’d kill his own brother to claim it.
Tsurumi wants to taste the bittersweet nectar of low self-esteem dripping from Edogai’s body. “Let me be the judge of that.” Such a cruel thing to say to someone begging for scraps, but Tsurumi loves nothing more than twisting the knife in a fresh wound. He drags his tongue up the side of Edogai’s face, catching the rolling tears spilling over his red cheeks, while he finally pulls the strings holding Edogai’s pants closed and strips him nude in his lap.
It’s a sight to behold, one Tsurumi has heard of in passing but never witnessed with his own eyes. He almost speaks immediately, his instinct to gawk and marvel at the surgical line bisecting Edogai’s pubic mound. But he holds his tongue as his leaky brain reminds him of the vulnerable man staring him down with a stabbing gaze—the voices must be whispering to him again, filling Edogai’s mind with a hundred ways to stuff Tsurumi’s body among his morbid collection if he deems his reaction negative.
“Is this what you were afraid of?” Tsurumi asks as he examines Edogai with his fingers. He’s careful not to pull too hard on the pale lines framing the outline of his missing cock as he finds the small hole where the remains of his urethra are. It almost looks like a pussy, lacking the necessary lips and folds. Unfortunately, the hole left behind isn’t large enough to take anything. It’s purely functional, but he can work with this.
Edogai still nudges his hips up into Tsurumi’s hand, despite having nothing to give. Tsurumi cups his palm and warms the little mound of flesh that once housed Edogai’s genitals. Poor thing, Tsurumi pities him—not for the lack of cock but for what had to happen for this to be. It’s no wonder he was so afraid.
“You are so full of surprises, Edogai. But this is hardly as off-putting as you’d think. Nothing could have made you seem any less delicious to me.” Edogai sags with relief, signaling to Tsurumi that he said the right thing, but this is just the beginning. “Tell me, has anyone else touched you here before?”
Edogai shakes his head before remembering he could use his words. “No sir, never. You’re the first person I’ve ever shown.” He pauses, holding his breath as he notices the shiver of excitement that Tsurumi gives. “Do you like that?”
Of course he does. There is something so sinful about being the hand that deflowers another's virginity. It is a guilty pleasure, like the box of sweets he buys for himself—a little treat just for him. Just the thought of it, all wrapped in a little bow and hidden away for a special occasion, makes his mouth water at the mere idea.
There’s no point in hiding it now—if Tsurumi’s reaction wasn’t clear, the slow drip of cranial fluid finding the gap beneath his helmet gave him away. “Yes, oh Edogai. I like every part of you, and I can’t wait to be the first to give you this.”
Edogai has no choice but to squeal as strong hands throw him down onto a nearby pile of cushions and spread him out beneath Tsurumi’s caging body. It takes no effort at all to grab hold of his slender thighs and crack him open so he can descend into the space between and latch his mustached mouth to the small hole left behind by his mutilation.
He hungrily devours the remnants of Edogai’s genitals, laving the scarred tissue with wide sweeps of his tongue, licking it as he would a woman’s cunt. He tastes the thin, wrinkled skin first, warming the sensitive, untouched nerves with his hot breath. And, he notes that Edogai squirms the most when he passes over the rapid beating pulse nestled in the juncture between hip and thigh.
The young man writhes like a worm on a hook, overwhelmed by the piercing pleasure Tsurumi’s attention brings. He thrashes, but the hands holding his legs aloft are firm, keeping him from wriggling away from the persistent mouth that chases his every movement.
“Mr. Tsurumi!” he cries, his voice breaking as he chants the name like a mantra, in rhythm with each stroke to his empty crotch.
The act is unusual for both of them, marked by the dual uniqueness of Edogai's inexperience and the absence of the necessary anatomy to achieve a typical male orgasm. However, Tsurumi is a resourceful man, undaunted by challenges when it comes to sex.
He remains fascinated by the small hole left for Edogai's bladder. The shortened urethra, nestled between the converging scars, is pink from the attention of Tsurumi's tongue. It winks at him playfully, almost as if flirting with the Lieutenant on its own.
"Such a naughty little thing," he murmurs directly to the hole, causing a fresh wave of goosebumps to ripple across Edogai's skin. “Beckoning me in. Do you even know what you’re asking for?”
Tsurumi moves his hands from Edogai's thighs, letting them rest on his shoulders instead, and uses his freed hands to pull apart the loose skin that folds across Edogai's hole. The tiny orifice stretches slightly as he does, pulling a mewl from Edogai's lips when Tsurumi blows a cool breeze onto it. It's just as sensitive as he expected it to be.
The urge to continue teasing gnaws at the crumbs of Tsurumi's sanity, but his cravings only intensify as Edogai begins to beg for more. He needs to taste this man from within. Leaning in, Tsurumi closes his eyes and moans as he presses his mouth against the tight opening before him.
He flicks his tongue against Edogai's urethra, testing its elasticity with each stroke. The small, delicate opening flutters under his touch, and he feels the soft muscle gradually yield to his insistent probing. With every gentle push, Tsurumi presses harder, savoring the way the smooth, tight flesh begins to grip the very tip of his tongue.
Edogai’s breath stalls, and a soft, needy moan escapes his lips as Tsurumi delves deeper, his tongue exploring the sensitive, untouched space. The sensation is electric—a mix of pleasure and vulnerability that sends shivers down Edogai’s spine. Tsurumi feels the twitching of Edogai’s body responding to his every move, the way the tiny orifice clenches and relaxes around him, as if inviting him to explore further.
Sealing his lips around the hole stuffed with his tongue, Tsurumi suckles, slurping the saliva he has pushed inside and creating vibrations that rumble through Edogai’s core. He wonders if the eunuch can feel this in his prostate. The organ can’t be tucked away too far from his mouth. If Tsurumi focuses on the flavors on his tongue, he’s certain he can taste the milky fluid it creates before becoming mixed with semen—umami without the salt.
“Ah! S-Stop-Stop! Something’s coming!” Panic fills Edogai’s voice as his hands scramble to push at the front of Tsurumi’s porcelain helmet. He tries to push him away, to stop him, as a sudden warm rush of something liquid drops into his lower stomach. It’s a smooth pull, familiar yet new, like the tight coils of orgasm but drawing from a different well since he no longer has any testes to tap into.
Tsurumi ignores the warnings and doubles down, pressing forward to pin Edogai’s stomach down with one hand, adding weight to keep his meal from slipping away. As he does, he passively notices the round shape of a full bladder beneath his palm—or perhaps a womb begging to take his seed if he can just figure out how to widen this little hole into something that will take his cock.
The intelligence officer quickly connects the dots—Edogai’s warning, his increasing thrashing, the drumming pulse of his organs as they’re confused by the activation of new nerves. It’s all a beautiful symphony that culminates in the warm, bitter gush of urine that sprays across Tsurumi’s tongue, forcing it out of the hole and jetting straight into his waiting mouth.
It’s too much to swallow all at once, although not for lack of trying. Tsurumi welcomes the drink like a man who’s spent months in a desert searching for an oasis. It’s reminiscent of medicinal tea, he thinks, warming his bones as it travels down his throat and lands in his stomach. There’s also a strong smell to it, earthy but not unpleasant. Usually, the scent of piss reeks of ammonia, but Edogai’s is as clear as a brook.
Ah, good hydration was key to healthy skin, after all.
What remains of Edogai’s orgasm spills over Tsurumi’s chin, dampening his beard and the front of his uniform. It soaks into the fabric, marking him with Edogai’s scent. No doubt, there will be no way of hiding the evidence without Tsukishima noticing—not that the sergeant would be surprised.
After a few more sparing licks, Tsurumi finishes cleaning up the evidence the best he can for Edogai, then releases his little treat from the torment of overstimulating his sensitive nerves. A prolonged orgasm can be an incredible experience, but it can also be overwhelming for someone unfamiliar with it.
“Edogai?” Tsurumi calls to him, placing a hand against his cheek and urging him to open his eyes and return to reality. “Are you with me?”
Bright eyes flutter open as they land on Tsurumi’s wet face, and Edogai blushes at the sight. He bites his lip and tries to stutter out an apology, but it’s not what Tsurumi is looking for. Instead, he silences the taxidermist with a kiss—a proper one that takes Edogai’s mouth just as hungrily as it took his virginity.
“Delicious,” Tsurumi coos between their lips. “My sweet boy. You tasted better than I expected.” His words make Edogai melt in his arms, as they stroke the tender part of his wanting heart.