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Thunder roared over the watchpoint, resounding through the cliffs' dips and valleys like the war drums of giants. Below, the turbulent sea crashed angrily against the rock face, waves rearing up and breaking into white foam that clawed at the stone as if trying to drag it under.
The wind howled through the buildings and hollowed caves, singing the songs of long-forgotten ghosts. It carried the rain sideways into parts of the base that should have been sheltered from the worst of the storm.
An hour ago, the sky had been clear. The sunlight had touched the cliffs like a blessing. Now thick black clouds swallowed everything whole, smothering the horizon as if it had never existed at all. Storms did not rise this quickly. Not without reason. This was a bad omen.
Lightning split the darkness again and again, each flash tearing the sky open and casting the sea in stark, blinding white. Every time the thunder exploded in its wake, Mizuki flinched where he sat on his bed, pressed into the farthest corner away from the weather-facing wall.
Realistically, he knew, thunderstorms were a weather phenomenon. However, right now his fear prevailed over his rationality. There was something in the air, besides the ozone and the salt from the sea. He could sense it. None of the people at the base had believed him when he tried to convince them of his curse, and now something terrible was about to happen.
As if to confirm his thoughts, another flash of lightning streaked past his window, and the following crack was deafening. Suddenly, the room was plunged into darkness. The hum of the air conditioning disappeared, and only Mizuiki's loud, rapid breathing remained. He pressed his palms together and prayed. He should have done this much earlier!
A moment passed, countless heartbeats for him, and then the emergency lighting came on. The light was much weaker than before and failed to dispel the shadows in the corners of his quarters. Nervously, he waited for one of them to break free from the shackles of the wall and attack him. If the curse were to strike him now, would the base be safe? He shouldn't have come here. Why had he accepted the offer to go with Overwatch? He should have stayed in Japan, even if everything had gone downhill there. Now he was putting all these agents in danger!
He could barely contain his shriek when there was banging against the door. “Mizuki?” a familiar voice called, muffled by the thick metal. For a brief moment, he was distracted by the person outside. Wuyang was one of the few people whose face he could already put a name to. Or rather, his voice.
Another crash of thunder made Mizuki flinch. “You should go back to your own room. It’s not safe outside,” he called, clutching the comforter in his fists. He should have put up some talismans; perhaps those would have helped to ward off the spirits. He would purchase some and hang them all over the base if he survived this.
The sliding door to his quarters opened with a low hiss. “What are you talking about? It’s safe outside. What the hell – is that salt?” Wuyang asked when he stepped over the threshold and right into the line of salt Mizuki had spread for protection.
Wuyang wore dark blue sweatpants and a muscle shirt, the fabric clinging to his shoulder with moisture. He carried a fresh wave of ozone into the room.
“I was just on my way back from a stroll outside, and the rain surprised me, so I–” He stopped in the middle of the room, eyes landing on Mizuki, who was sitting on his bed, arms curled around his knees. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Sick?” He rushed over to the other man, one knee already on the mattress, arm stretched outward to check on him, but Mizuki winced away.
“The spirits are angry. I shouldn’t have come to Gibraltar with you.”
“That thing about your curse again? Mizuki, that’s just a thunderstorm. It will pass in a bit, and nothing will happen.”
“But the lights–”
“Electricity cut off. One of the antennas was probably struck by lightning. I bet Winston is already on it, and everything will return to normal soon.”
Mizuki wasn’t convinced. He had told Wuyang about his curse already, but he didn’t seem to understand that it was related to the storm. Another lightning bolt flashed across the sky outside. Mizuki awaited the following crash but still shuddered when it rang out. He wanted to cover his ears. Hide under the blanket. Cut himself off from the world. If he weren’t so terrified, he would feel embarrassed that Wuyang was witnessing him in such a state of distress.
Wuyang didn’t seem to mind, though. He sat next to Mizuki, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. I can stay with you until this is over.”
No, it wasn’t okay. He shouldn’t stay in the same room. Mizuki’s proximity would only make him a greater target for the curse.
“No, you can't, the spirits–” A long, rumbling thunder reverberated throughout the base, shaking the building and making the lights flicker ominously. One moment, Mizuki tried to hide himself in the corner, the next he found himself wrapped in strong, muscular arms, his face buried in the warm crook of Wuyang’s neck.
“Ssht, it's okay. It's just a storm. You're going to be okay,” Wuyang said calmly. It didn't work. Mizuki’s breaths were coming in quick and short, panic roaring inside him like the water outside. The sea would rise and swallow them all; they’d drown just like his mother. History was doomed to repeat itself, and Mizuki was the eye of the storm pulling them in.
“Mizuki, you’re hyperventilating,” Wuyang’s voice rang from somewhere far away. He couldn’t hear him through the rushing of blood in his ears, his heartbeat too fast and drowning out the rest. Then suddenly, the world seemed to halt, his panicked breathing stopped – was forced to stop – as Wuyang’s mouth closed over Mizuki’s.
It was warm and soft, and suddenly it was all that Mizuki was aware of. He was too stunned to return the kiss, but he felt the gentle pressure of soft lips and big, grounding hands that cupped and angled his face for easier access.
Not much time could have passed before Wuyang separated from him again. Mizuki reflexively took a deep breath, and immediately the other's mouth was on his again. This time, he kissed him harder, his lips still soft but demanding, and Mizuki opened his lips just enough for the tip of his tongue to enter. Only now did he realize that he had automatically closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he found Wuyang's honey-brown eyes resting on him.
Shocked, Mizuki pushed him away. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked indignantly.
“It helped. You were hyperventilating and breathing too quickly. It was the way I could think of to stop you this quickly.”
And indeed, it had helped. His heart was still racing at a dizzying speed, but he felt like his lungs were working in the intended way again. But then thunder rumbled once more, reminding him of the curse.
“Wuyang, you have to go.”
“I'm not leaving you alone now,” Wuyang refused, still holding Mizuki's face in his hands. They had never been this close before. Even during training, they always kept a polite distance. The strange thing was, it felt good. The skin contact, the kiss, for a brief moment, Mizuki had forgotten what was happening around him. For those few seconds, his head had been empty, and he had felt… safe.
He stared at Wuyang in disbelief. “Then, can you do that again?” he asked. “Please.”
Wuyang chuckled. “What? Kiss you?”
Mizuki nodded. He tried to ignore the storm outside and focus on Wuyang. Has he always had such clear and smooth skin? Were his lips always this pink?
“I thought you wanted me to leave?” Wuyang's smile turned into a smirk. He was stirring, trying to get up, and Mizuki clasped his shoulders, keeping him seated on the mattress. He had to use his entire bodyweight to keep himself down, halfway kneeling over his lap as they rang with each other for a few seconds. He might be taller, but the other was heavier. Wuyang started laughing loudly. The sound was bright and warm, and Mizuki felt it ring through him like cleansing ripples. He liked that sound. It was so much better than the horrible thunder.
“Don’t worry, I'll protect you from the storm,” Wuyang said. “I'm not going anywhere. You don't need to be scared.” One arm wrapped around Mizuki’s back, and a hand buried itself in his soft, silver hair. He pulled him closer and then some, until the tips of their noses were touching.
“To be honest, I've been wanting to do this ever since you moved to base with us,” he whispered, and Mizuki didn't have proper time to decipher the meaning before Wuyang kissed him again. This time, he could properly focus on it and, more importantly, reciprocate. Just like before, the storm and its spirits drowned out in the feeling of lips brushing against his. Mizuki had only ever kissed one person before, a girl his own age, shortly before he had left to infiltrate the Yokai.
It felt nothing like it. Wuyang clearly knew what he was doing; his tongue slipped back into Mizuki's mouth and carefully explored it. He hummed positively when Mizuki played with him, tongues slipping and sliding against each other in a try to gain the upper hand – just like when they sparred in the training rooms.
They broke apart to catch their breath, and Mizuki opened his eyes again. Wuyang’s cheek had taken on a vibrant pink color, and his eyes were glimmering with something Mizuki couldn't name yet. He tried to shift in Wuyang's grasp and get a better look at his pretty face, but instead the movement made him aware of something else. His erection was bulging his sweatpants, pre-cum straining the gray fabric.
Kissing Wuyang had felt good, and he had distantly noticed the tingles of pleasure flickering through his body, but he hadn't thought that something as simple as a kiss was enough to get him aroused. That was embarrassing. The girl he had been with had taken so long to get him hard, and he had made a fool of himself by going soft while sleeping with her, and now here he was, rock hard after Wuyang had simply sucked on his tongue for a moment.
It wasn't the first time that he thought he might be more attracted to other men, but he couldn't dwell on it. Wuyang was already aware of the situation, and before Mizuki had a real chance to pull away, Wuyang flipped them around, now towering over him.
“Wuyang…” Mizuki whispered when he was kissed again. First on the lips, then his cheek, then again, on the corner of his mouth, all those soft touches causing butterflies to roar in his chest. The need to flee faded slowly.
“Tell me you want this. That you want me, too,” Wuyang whispered, and his usual, boisterous demeanor was gone, replaced by something more honest and vulnerable. “I want to kiss and touch you. Let me make you forget that curse. It can't hurt you, not when I'm with you.”
Mizuki felt breathless, this time for an entirely different reason. He felt Wuyang’s reassuring weight on his body, and his equally hard cock pressed against his own. Distantly, he knew it was a bad idea, as if the spirits made any exceptions. It would probably result in the opposite, and they would know that Wuyang meant something to him, which would make him a greater target, but he couldn't seem to care at that moment. Not when Wuyang was looking at him with so much want. Not when Mizuki could feel his body tremble with need instead of anxiety.
He nodded hesitantly. “I want this.”
Wuyang raised an eyebrow, which made him look a little more like his usual self. “That didn't sound very convincing.”
Mizuki rolled his eyes. His face was burning with embarrassment, but he forced himself not to look away when he repeated, “I want you.”
“You're so damn cute when you blush,” Wuyang teased before kissing Mizuki once more. It was a long, languid kiss that soon had Mizuki squirming underneath the other. Somewhere in between, Wuyang started grinding against him, slow and steadily rubbing their bulges together. His body covered Mizuki's, shielded him, as promised, from the outer world.
They broke apart to catch their breath, but Wuyang wasn't giving them much of a breather, using his mouth to explore Mizuki's neck. It felt good, especially when he was lightly sucking on his pulse point, and Mizuki let out an embarrassing, surprised moan when he felt a hint of teeth scraping over his adam's apple. His hips seemed to have a mind of their own, grinding up into Wuyang in search of more friction.
“Have you done this before?” Wuyang asked, his voice a bit deeper than usual. He placed a hand on Mizuki's stomach, petting it slowly through his clothes.
“Done what?” Mizuki wanted that hand to go lower, or slip under the fabric and touch his skin directly. He was burning up already, and only Wuyang's cool touch could extinguish the flame of need kindling inside him.
Wuyang must have read his mind, or he was feeling a similar need because his hand was slipping under the hem of Mizuki’s tight sweatshirt, shoving it up slowly to reveal inch after inch of his pale skin. “Make out with someone… or have sex with them,” he said, while tracing a pink scar that ran over Mizuki's ribs. He couldn't even remember which fight he had gotten it from; his mind was filled with an unfamiliar static and Wuyang. Wuyang, who bowed down and kissed the scar and then the few small moles on his stomach while he shoved the shirt further up, the fabric bunching under Mizuki's armpits.
He eyed Mizuki from below and spoke against his skin, “Do you understand what I'm asking?”
Permission. He was asking if Mizuki was okay with what he was doing – what they were doing – and if this would be Mizuki's first time. New thunder roared from outside, and Mizuki flinched, grabbing Wuyang by the shoulders for an anchor. “Once. With a girl. It wasn't really good,” he said, embarrassed. “Have you done this?”
“Mhm. Both girls and boys. Made me realize I only like the latter.” Wuyang’s lips graced one of Mizuki's hard nipples, eliciting a shiver from him. He was hovering over him, and his warm breath was enough that Mizuki suddenly wanted him to touch him there. Wanted him to kiss it the way he had kissed him on the mouth.
“Maybe this will be better if you want to try.”
“It's already better,” Mizuki replied honestly. He heard the other chuckle and a quiet, “I’m glad”, before that perfect set of lips wrapped around his nipple and sucked it just like he had hoped. His back arched from the bed, towards the touch.
Wuyang alternated between sucking and licking, and Mizuki hadn't known that just touching his chest like this could feel so good. Wanting to touch the other too, he fumbled with the accessory holding Wuyang’s hair in a bun and let out a frustrated noise when he couldn't get it to open. Wuyang sat up, laughing as he reached up to remove the hairpiece and untie his bun by himself.
His black hair fell in short strands over his shoulders, framing his beautiful face. Once again, he took Mizuki's breath away. "You should wear it open more often."
“Unfortunately, it's totally impractical in combat.”
“A pity. It looks good on you.”
“You're cute,” Wuyang said and leaned down once more. Neither of them seemed to get bored with the relentless kissing, but this time, Mizuki could sink his hands into long, silky hair. It smelled of the same shampoo everyone on base had been issued with, but somehow it smelled much better on Wuyang. There was something to it that made Mizuki want to bury his nose in his hair. Maybe another time, he decided, once he felt a hand sneak in between their bodies and cup Mizuki's dick through his pants. He moaned sweetly, his dick flexing in the palm that was providing some much-needed pressure.
“Yes. That feels good,” he breathed, and could feel Wuyang smile into the kiss. “Yeah? Do you mind taking these off?” He hooked a finger underneath the waistband of Mizuki's sweatpants and let it snap playfully.
“If you take yours off too…” He thought that would make it less embarrassing, but at the same time, he couldn't wait to see more of Wuyang. The man was always parading in his tight tops and shirts, his chest and arm muscles unfairly bulging. For the first time, Mizuki didn't feel like he had to hide his staring, so his eyes roamed greedily over Wuyang’s body once they both had scrambled out of their clothes.
His abs looked even better like that, fading into sharp V muscles and his cock… Mizuki had never been this close to another man’s genitals and hadn't thought he'd ever be. He had attributed his limited sexual experience to the fact that he simply didn't have time for such things, but looking at Wuyang's hard cock awoke a desire he hadn't known until now. He was stretching his hand out before the conscious thought of wanting to touch it was even formed.
Wuyang let out a soft moan when Mizuki wrapped his flesh hand around his cock, the skin of it soft and warm. They were almost the same size, yet it felt so different from touching his own. He watched with novel wonder as a drop of precum dripped from the slit and used his thumb to smear it around the glans. He liked this on himself, and by the face of Wuyang – cheeks red, eyes closed in relaxation, lips slightly parted – he seemed to enjoy it too.
Returning the favor, Wuyang jerked him too, slow and carefully, as if to test the waters. It was strange having someone touch him like this again, especially because Wuyang’s hand was a bit bigger than his own.
“Is that alright? Tell me if I should change the pace or pressure.”
“No, it's good.”
“Hah, I'm glad. Can I, mmmh–” Wuyang made a lewd sound that went straight to Mizuki's cock. Why was this so good? Why was Wuyang turning him so on?
“Can I suck you off? Please, I want to.”
Nobody had ever done this for Mizuki. Today seemed to be full of firsts. He was too curious and aroused to say no, but the thought that Wuyang might expect him to reciprocate was making him a little uneasy.
“Just relax,” Wuyang said, feeling that Mizuki was tensing up. He kissed him again, eagerly and pleadingly, before his lips trailed down Mizuki’s lean body. He scooted too far down the bed for Mizuki to keep touching his dick, his hand feeling strangely empty without it.
His head slumped back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling as he felt soft lips kiss his navel and then lower. He was too embarrassed to watch, instead concentrating on the feelings. Wuyang thankfully didn't tease him for long, only pressing a few kisses around Mizuki's cock before he used his flat tongue to lick over the underside.
Mizuki made a surprised Oh sound before he bit his lower lip, hoping to stifle any other noises he might make. He felt a hand drag his foreskin down to reveal the head, the smooth, skillful tongue swiping experimentally over it, but it wasn't enough to prepare him for the velvety, hot mouth that engulfed him a second later. His mouth fell open with a surprised moan – so much for staying quiet.
He pushed himself up just enough to catch a glimpse of Wuyang, who was swallowing him down to the root, and then let out a satisfied sound. Mizuki had hoped he would show him mercy, give him a chance to get used to the feeling, but instead, he was overwhelmed by the sensation of his tight throat closing around him. Then, as if Wuyang wanted to take it up a notch, he suddenly looked at him with lidded eyes, and Mizuki fell back against the pillow in defeat, throwing an arm over his eyes as his hips twitched involuntarily.
“Wuyang, hnngh, too much, oh fuck!” He’d barely gotten down on him, but Mizuki felt himself teetering on the edge of his orgasm. “I’m going to– You–”
Wuyang popped off his cock with a wet sound. “Sorry, I might have been a little overeager. Everything alright?” Mizuki nodded, still hiding his face behind his arm.
“I want to make you feel good.” Wuyang’s strong hands massaged Mizuki's thighs, calming and reassuring. “You’re so pretty like this.”
Maybe the spirits had sent Wuyang to torment Mizuki with his sweet words and maddening touches. The wind outside subsided, the clouds moved on, and the sea began to calm down, but the storm inside Mizuki continued to rage.
“Can we do something else? Maybe something that could make us come together?” Mizuki asked. “I don’t think I’m ready for going all the way… but if you lie next to me so I can touch you again?” Wuyang met his eyes for a moment, clearly in thought. Maybe he was reconsidering this. Maybe he had expected to fuck Mizuki the whole way – a scary yet somehow arousing thought that he’d had to reconsider when his mind wasn’t foggy with an almost orgasm.
“I got an even better idea. Do you trust me?”
That was something Mizuki didn’t need to think about. They had already fought alongside each other against the Hashimoto Clan, and each team meeting had shown Mizuki that the other man was someone who cared about others. Someone who only had good intentions in mind. Even today, he had insisted on staying with Mizuki when he was in distress. He trusted him.
“I do. What do you have in mind?”
“This,” said Wuyang, who was now kneeling between Mizuki’s legs. He spat lewdly into his left hand and wrapped it around his own cock. Mizuki’s eyes went wide as he watched him stroke himself at a leisurely pace. Misinterpreting the situation, he was about to take his cock into his own hand as well, but Wuyang caught his hand before he could touch himself. With a chuckle, he shifted his hips until their length rubbed briefly against each other. Then he guided Mizuki to touch them both at the time. He closed the part where Miszuki’s fingers couldn’t reach around their combined girth with his own hand, and then Mizuki understood.
Together they shallowly thrusted into their joined hands, and Mizuki could feel every throb of Wuyang’s cock against his own.
“Feels good?” Wuyang asked with a knowing smirk. He knew damn right it did. “Come on, Mizuki-Chan. Talk to me.”
Mizuki made a spluttering sound at the nickname. Nobody had ever called him that. He didn't know where to look. Wuyang's blushing face with his intense gaze was making him embarrassed, and watching their cocks fuck into their tight fists would make him come in no time.
“It feels good,” he said breathily. “I'm not going last if we keep doing this.”
“A quick shot, hm?” Wuyang teased.
“No. Just– ah! I'm not used to–” Words were too hard with his mind positively frying away through pleasure. It was mostly his own hand, but there was Wuyang's cock, hot and hard yet soft, and their precum slicking them up, making the glide effortlessly smooth.
“It's okay. I want you to feel good, don't hold back.”
He wouldn't even know how to hold back, not with those relentless ruts against each other. “Wuyang. Wuyang,” he cried out, feeling the pressure build inside his lower stomach. There was no going back. His prosthetic hand clawed aimlessly at Wuyang's thigh as he bucked underneath him, hips stuttering, a string of moans falling from his lips as he reached the point of no return. His cum splattered over his stomach, and Wuyang let out a low, appreciative whistle.
“There we go.”
Mizuki's hand fell away, all the strength in his body leaving him as the aftershocks of his orgasm rippled through him. Distantly, he noticed Wuyang's fingers dragging through the mess on his stomach before he wrapped them back around his own aching cock, fucking quickly into his tight fist. His shimmering eyes raked over Mitsuki’s relaxed body, lips falling open in a soundless moan. He came in long, hot spurs all over Mitsuki’s torso, a few droplets even hitting his chin. It was hot to watch and even hotter when Wuyang leaned over him. He expected a kiss and already stretched to welcome his lips, but instead, he felt his slick tongue lick over his chin and neck before he moved to kiss him.
A brief moment of shock made his chest ache when he could taste something bitter as Wuyang licked into his mouth, but getting his first taste of cum like this wasn't as bad as he had expected. They kissed for a while longer, until their hearts were beating at a normal pace again, and then Wuyang rolled off of him.
It was quiet in the room. The air conditioner was still out. The sky was gray, but the clouds seemed to break up, showing small slivers of blue. The crash of waves had gone back to its muted, regular splashing against the rock.
“The storm is gone,” Mizuki observed.
“Yeah. See, nothing happened.”
Mizuki wouldn't say nothing happened, considering their collective cum was drying on his stomach, but it wasn't bad. He hadn't felt this relaxed in weeks. Months maybe. He smiled. “Thank you for the distraction. I’d probably gone mad without you.”
“You were already having a panic attack. Sorry, this approach was pretty unprofessional.” Wuyang laughed.
“It has helped… and it felt good. Maybe you were my lucky charm today.” He watched Wuyang get up from the bed and offer him a hand.
“Let's get cleaned up. And… if you ever need a charm again, you know where I am.”
Mizuki chuckled as he let the other pull him up. “Was that a bad joke about fooling around again?”
“Maybe?” Wuyang replied with a cheeky grin. “I'll be there for you, one way or another.”
And for the first time, Mizuki thought maybe he was allowed a speck of luck in his life.