Archive of Our Own

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The night was calm. Crickets sung to the stars as a spring breeze blew gently through an open window. The cool air flitted over Wuyang’s bare torso as he dozed. He shivered and emitted a rough, sleep-soaked groan as he tugged the blankets tighter around himself and curled closer to Mizuki for warmth. There wasn't all that much to spare, given the two men both slept in nothing but their underwear on nice nights like this, but it was more than enough for Wuyang.

He threw an arm over Mizuki and snored lightly, creating a rather discordant harmonization with the nocturnal insects outside. He had always been a lighter sleeper than Mizuki, oddly enough. When they first started sleeping together Wuyang had assumed it would be the other way around. But when Wuyang asked one morning how Mizuki put up with his own tossing and turning and trips to the bathroom, Mizuki had shrugged and said he never noticed. 

Even now, as Wuyang snored into his ear and drooled against his back, Mizuki didn't budge. As the night stretched deeper, Wuyang drifted deeper into sleep. He cuddled up to his boyfriend, lulled by the symphony of the night and Mizuki’s rhythmic breathing. Fast asleep, he was unaware that there was in fact something that was indeed capable of waking Mizuki prematurely.

The older man’s breaths had begun to quicken. Erratically at first, a little huff escaping his lips every few moments. Out… Out. Then his breaths evened out. In, out, in, out. Then, in-out-in-out-in-out. Wuyang's arm rose and fell limply where it lay draped against Mizuki, but he didn't yet notice that Mizuki had begun to hyperventilate in his sleep. Not until Mizuki’s hurried breaths turned to fearful gasps — it was then that Wuyang’s coal-colored eyelashes began to part groggily. 

“Mizuki?” Wuyang muttered barely audibly as he began the climb out of sleep. He stared, half-lidded, at the back of Mizuki’s neck as his brain slowly processed what was going on. “Mizuki? Are you okay?” Wuyang sat up and rubbed his eyes before getting a good look at the distraught figure beside him, little more than a shadow in the dark. Mizuki didn't answer — or at least he didn't answer Wuyang.

“No,” Mizuki groaned, “no…” Wuyang frowned, concern welling within him as he sleepily put the pieces together: Mizuki was having a nightmare. He watched as Mizuki began to thrash, sort of; he didn't wear his prosthetic arm to bed, and his legs appeared to be tangled in the sheets. 

Determined to end this plight and soothe his woes, Wuyang flicked the lamp beside him on and placed a steadying hand on Mizuki's scarred shoulder. He opened his mouth to try and gently call his name again. But somehow, this move only made the situation escalate. Wuyang’s eyes widened in surprise as Mizuki shot upright. He was sweating bullets and white knuckling the blankets in his hand as he shouted into the night. 

“Anything but the shirikodama!” Mizuki cried out. Wuyang blinked in confusion, but pulled Mizuki into his arms protectively.

“Shhh, it's only a nightmare.” The muscles in Wuyang's arms rippled as he held Mizuki tightly and ran his fingers along the clammy skin on his back. Mizuki shivered. His heart raced in his chest, dizzying him as he came fully back into the waking world.

“Wuyang…” Mizuki's hand snaked up to cling to one of Wuyang's arms. His slender fingers gripped like a vice, afraid to let go. “Fuck… Sorry about that.” He cleared his throat as he fought to catch his breath and his composure.

“Sorry?” Wuyang repeated, pulling Mizuki closer into a lean so he could rest his chin on the top of his head. If he could, he would envelop Mizuki fully and protect him from his thoughts forever. Mizuki dealt with his demons enough during the day; Wuyang wished wistfully that there was a way he could keep them from tormenting Mizuki at night, too.

“Sorry,” Mizuki affirmed. “Don't really know what came over me.” Wuyang wilted a bit as Mizuki cloaked himself in that trademark nonchalant demeanor that he wielded like a shield against all his insecurities.

“Mizuki, you don't have to apologize. It was a nightmare. You can’t really control that.” 

“I didn't mean to shout and wake you up so late.” Mizuki wriggled back into a sitting position and threw a long glance at the bedside clock. It was obvious that he was embarrassed, and purposely avoiding eye contact. 

“I know. It's whatever,” Wuyang insisted, feeling bad that Mizuki felt bad. “Seriously. Wasn’t like I was having the best dream ever either.” 

“Yeah,” Mizuki muttered noncommittally, his mind clearly elsewhere. “It’s whatever. Let’s just get back to sleep.” He began to untangle himself from the sheets, and Wuyang quickly moved to help him. 

“Do you need anything?” Wuyang gently prodded. “Did you want to talk about it at all?”

Mizuki sighed. He planted his palm into the mattress and scooted off the bed before suddenly becoming very invested in getting up and fixing his entire side of the bed. Wuyang watched as Mizuki adjusted the sheet repeatedly, clearly stalling, or at least trying to distract Wuyang. “Well…” He stretched out the word, scarcely louder than the tune of the crickets outside. 

“If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to,” Wuyang reminded him, “but it might make you feel better if you do.” 

Mizuki sat back down. The mattress squeaked lightly under him as he weighed his options. Slowly, he inched closer to Wuyang again, looking much like a pathetic stray cat trying to gauge whether or not to trust a stranger. Eventually that mop of silvery hair rested on Wuyang's shoulder, and Wuyang released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Mizuki was not known to be an outwardly trusting person to anyone but his boyfriend — but even then, there were still various moments where it was hard for even Wuyang to get through to him. Like now. Wuyang would take the little victories.

“It’s okay, Mizuki,” Wuyang whispered, leaning his cheek against the top of Mizuki's head. “Whatever it was, it was just a dream. It's over now. I’m here.”

Mizuki remained silent, but Wuyang could feel him finally begin to relax. The weight of his body became more prominent as Mizuki melted into the sweet, protective wall of muscle that made up Wuyang.

“It was the spirits…” Mizuki slowly began.

“Mhm…?” Wuyang prompted meagerly, leaving space for Mizuki to continue opening up. It didn't surprise him in the slightest that Mizuki believed his predicament to be the doing of ‘the spirits’. 

“They… well… it…” Mizuki breathed, before pausing to peer up at Wuyang. “You know the lore around the kappa, right?”

“Uhh…” Wuyang wracked his mind, mentally brushing the last remnants of sleepiness aside to better access his memory. “Yeah. That water spirit that looks like a cross between a man and a turtle, right?” 

“Uh-huh.” Mizuki's tone deepened into something much more serious. He sucked in a breath. “Yeah. I was kinda terrified of them, growing up. My dad liked to tell me growing up that they’re the reason my mom drowned. In some stories, the kappa are okay. But in others they're total dickheads and they’ll drown unknowing bystanders if they come too close to the waters the kappa inhabit…” Wuyang blinked again as Mizuki struggled to employ more casual language in spite of the severity of his tone. This dream really had rattled him, huh?

“Your dad kinda sounded like a dickhead too, no offense,” Wuyang supplied offhandedly. 

“Yeah, but we all knew that. Now lemme get to the point…” Mizuki continued, knowing that if he kept stalling he would never make it there. Wuyang shut his mouth and nodded dutifully. 

“There's more to the kappa. Now, this next part might sound ridiculous at first, and you might not believe me, but it's a very important part of the legends.” Mizuki began to pick at the sheets anxiously. “They say that the human soul takes the form of a small ball… thing. The kappa want to steal this ball — nobody can really agree on why the kappa want it so bad, but that's not important. The thing about it is, the ball…” 

Mizuki trailed off again, distant. At this point Wuyang had to wonder if he was doing this for dramatic effect. Wuyang raised an eyebrow and repeated, “The ball?” He wished he could see Mizuki's expression, but his head still rested on Wuyang's shoulder, his face downturned.

“Ugh, sorry. The dream is still so fresh in my mind, and it’s weirding me out.” Mizuki anxiously ran his tongue across his lips. “In the dream, there was a kappa trying to steal my shirikodama and drown me. It felt so real…”

“Um, what was the thing you were going to say about the ball?” Wuyang nudged, doing his best to maintain his patience.

“Oh, right. That’s the shirikodama. It's said to be located in the very, very lowest end of your digestive tract. Uh, like way up in your ass, pretty much. And the kappa are not shy about taking it, so…” Wuyang felt Mizuki wince. “They’ll just wait until you’ve invaded their river or pond and just, uh, stick their arm straight up your ass. That's how they take the shirikodama. Then you die, obviously, because they just repo’d that shit from the inside out with their bare hands and you can't live without a soul, anyway.” Now that Mizuki had gotten to the point, the words came pouring out. “In the dream, this kappa was really trying his best to get mine, but you woke me up right as he was about to take it. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Silence fell between the two of them again. Mizuki gradually began to get antsy. “Sorry,” he apologized once again. “I didn't mean to make it weird.”

Wuyang rubbed his cheek against the top of Mizuki's head reassuringly. It was never a dull moment with this guy. Wuyang couldn't help but let his lips twitch upward into a pitying smile. “So… you had a nightmare about a kappa trying to stick his hand in your ass and grab your soul?”

Mizuki couldn't see Wuyang's smile, but he could feel the way his lips twitched against his hair. Mizuki, in turn, pursed his lips into a flat line. “Yeah. Listen, I know it sounds dumb. But it's really not all that funny.”

“No, no, I agree. It’s not funny. Also, it's not dumb at all,” Wuyang said. He leaned away from Mizuki, and began to scoot toward the edge of the bed. Mizuki’s pout deepened as Wuyang’s warmth left his side. “I’d be freaked out too if I dreamed a water monster was trying to just… fist me like that.”

“Wuyang,” Mizuki said flatly, in almost a warning tone. He was getting the feeling he wasn't being taken seriously. 

Wuyang continued to go about… whatever it was he was doing. He stood and took a few gulps of the water bottle that sat on the bedside table. Then he picked up his phone, checked the time despite not needing to, and swiped a few notifications aside. 

Mizuki’s brows pulled together at the sudden odd and seemingly random behavior. “Wuyang?”

Wuyang looked at him from the corner of his eye, and grinned. Mizuki glared back at him before flopping back down on the bed. He was quick to roll back onto his side and face away from Wuyang. 

“Mizuki,” Wuyang said, drawing his love’s name out in a subtly sing-song tone. He reached over to place a hand on Mizuki's side. Mizuki's shoulder jerked — instinctively trying to brush Wuyang's hand away with his absent arm. His face reddened as he realized, and then he returned to pouting.

“You definitely think it's dumb,” Mizuki muttered. Now it was Wuyang's turn to pout. “You think the spirits are dumb. You think I’m dumb.” 

“No, I don't. I could never,” Wuyang crooned before draping himself across the bed behind Mizuki. 

“I know you wanted to laugh,” Mizuki accused. He felt Wuyang's hands creep over his side, then up to his shoulder, dancing across his tender scars. Mizuki did his best to suppress a shiver, but Wuyang could feel his muscles tensing under his touch, which didn't falter.

“No, I would never laugh at your distress, Mizuki,” Wuyang promised, drawing closer to Mizuki in order to fit his abdomen along the contour of Mizuki's back. Wuyang nearly melted at this extensive skin-to-skin contact as Mizuki begrudgingly allowed Wuyang to spoon him. But even in a sour mood, Mizuki found himself unable to keep from appreciating his boyfriend’s touch.

“It’s just that I had an idea…” Wuyang’s voice drew closer, low and still very slightly raspy with sleep, next to Mizuki’s ear. “When you told me all of that stuff about the kappa, I did some quick thinking and came up with a new ritual for us to do together. To protect your shiro- uh, shiroka… damori…” 

“Shirikodama,” Mizuki corrected, deadpan.

“That thing. Your ass ball.” Wuyang sported a cheeky grin. Mizuki looked over his shoulder with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, did you now?” Mizuki’s brows were no longer furrowed in annoyance, but raised in curiosity. “What kind of ritual did you come up with in such a short amount of time?”

“I think it's a no brainer, really. It's pretty simple, too. Dare I say you’ll enjoy it, even.” Wuyang wore what could only be described as a shit-eating grin, one that only fueled Mizuki's inquisitiveness further. Finally he relented to Wuyang's prompting, undoing his spooning position as Mizuki turned over to meet those impish brown eyes.

“Fine.” Mizuki lifted a finger to idly trace the pearly pink scars that accented Wuyang's pecs, still avoiding eye contact. “I’ll bite. What kind of ritual against kappa could you possibly plan to perform in our bedroom?” 

Wuyang was smirking so hard it was almost painful. Mizuki watched suspiciously as Wuyang detangled their embrace and sat up. He leaned over, reaching for the nightstand, and began to rummage through a drawer without another word. Mizuki leaned over as well, peering over Wuyang’s shoulder. It was easy to see what the younger man was doing — not only was Mizuki taller than him but Wuyang really made no effort to hide it.

Heat slowly crept across Mizuki's cheeks as he watched Wuyang shove aside some junk and a notebook to reveal a bottle and a small, oblong object. Wuyang turned to meet a deer-in-headlights stare from his boyfriend.

“You can't be serio-”

“If I plug you up, they can't reach up there and take your soul ball, can they?” Wuyang inspected the bottle of lube he clutched in his right hand, looking pleased as he noted how full it still was. Then he looked back to Mizuki, who was simply staring at him, mouth agape.

“This is your solution?” Mizuki asked, blinking down at the glass butt plug that lay casually on display in Wuyang's left palm. Wuyang himself had never seen Mizuki so dumbfounded. His heart was racing, but everything was going according to plan. Whether Mizuki decided to go along with Wuyang's nonsense or not, at least this was an absurd enough idea to keep him distracted from the more disturbing details of his nightmare. 

“You know a kappa would just rip that out and have its way anyway,” Mizuki pointed out, matter-of-factly.

Wuyang shrugged. “Nuh-uh. I’d intervene.” Another eyeroll from Mizuki. “Also, my dearest Mizu, I would like to remind you that we are currently nowhere near a body of water right now. And that kappas aren't the only ones with an aquatic advantage.” He shifted to sit up on his knees, still sizing Mizuki up with an inviting but mischievous smile. Mizuki swallowed hard. That smile, paired with those eyes — aside from the spirits, those were his ultimate weaknesses. 

“So you want to… plug me up… to protect my shirikodama…” Mizuki tested out the rather bizarre idea in his own words. He watched Wuyang fill every pause with an eager nod. “And then what?”

“And then,” Wuyang started. He inched closer until he was invading the taller man’s personal space once more. Mizuki felt the heat in his cheeks intensify as Wuyang's breaths danced across his neck, then his jaw, then his ear. “I’ll make it all up to you for hurting your feelings earlier.”

Wuyang pulled back just enough to relocate his lips from Mizuki's ear to Mizuki's own lips, locking them together in a passionate and encouraging kiss. Mizuki easily folded, his shoulders slumping as he leaned into the heat that their mouths generated. Wuyang's tongue was pushing against his lips before long and Mizuki readily accepted it, tilting his head to deepen the contact. Mizuki found himself bracing his hand against Wuyang's chest, dizzied, and Wuyang grunted as Mizuki's fingertips greedily kneaded into his pectoral muscles.

Eventually they were forced to pull apart to gulp down air. The pair locked eyes again, watching each other intently as they panted wantonly into each other's reddened faces. Mizuki watched as a string of saliva broke between them and dripped into Wuyang's lap. Green eyes traveled down that way instinctively, but Wuyang was quick to catch him staring.

“Not yet,” Wuyang said, his words light and airy as he gathered himself. “I’m going to take care of you first, remember?” 

“...Okay.” With that one word, Mizuki felt his inhibitions begin to slip through his fingers. Wuyang set the bottle of lube and the plug on the bed for now, giving his full attention to Mizuki. He extended a hand and reached for Mizuki's, while his other hand rested on Mizuki's waist to keep him steady. Gently Wuyang locked their fingers together and guided Mizuki to lay back against the pillows. Mizuki tilted his head back as he exhaled, relaxing at last into the soft bedding. Above him, Wuyang began to explore his lover’s body. He started with Mizuki's lips before trailing kisses down his neck to his shoulder, giving attention to the sensitive scars that marked where his arm once was. Then he continued downward over Mizuki's abdomen, past his navel and over the soft blonde hairs that disappeared below the waistband of his underwear. 

Mizuki held his breath as Wuyang moved even lower, to let his mouth linger above the growing outline of Mizuki's cock in his boxers. Wuyang's breaths were just close enough to contribute to the heat that was already building there, and Mizuki squirmed needily. “Tease…”

Wuyang didn't say anything, instead going back to showering his boyfriend with kisses, this time across the sensitive inner flesh of his thighs. As he did so, Mizuki could feel Wuyang straddling one of his shins, where he began a slow, erratic rhythm of his hips, grinding hungrily. Wuyang paused the kisses and closed his teeth around Mizuki's skin, sucking and kneading. It took great willpower for Mizuki to not jerk instinctively and risk injuring himself on Wuyang's teeth. The man was driving him crazy.

He focused on Wuyang, who in turn was focused on executing his plan. Once he was satisfied he had left a mark on Mizuki, he let go and sat up to admire his work. Sure enough, his boyfriend had already begun to bruise beautifully, red and purple blooming within pale skin like petals. Wuyang brushed his thumb over it gingerly; it slid easily with the help of his saliva. Mizuki shivered and moaned deeply.

“What are you doing?” Mizuki tilted his head back in exasperation. His cock throbbed, fully hard now but bound by the oppressive fabric of his boxers. 

“Marking you,” Wuyang stated breathlessly, “so they know you’re mine.”

“I thought you were going to do a ritual. Stop teasing me already, I need…” But in place of words Mizuki gave a shaking sigh. 

“You need what?” Wuyang quit his lazy dry humping of Mizuki's leg and leaned forward. He tilted his head at Mizuki, curiosity clearly piqued. Mizuki bit his lip as he felt the cool night air hit the unmistakable slick spot Wuyang had left behind on his bare leg.

“I need…” There were a million things Mizuki needed. He needed Wuyang to follow through with his stupid ‘ritual’ and stop teasing Mizuki already. He needed attention on his cock, urgently. He needed to fuck Wuyang so badly he could hardly stand it. And yet, Mizuki couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, the words burning up in his overheating mind before they could make it to his tongue.

“I know you need, love.” Wuyang smirked, moving a hand to trace Mizuki’s bulge. “This is all part of the ritual, don’t worry. Can’t you handle a little foreplay? Maybe you’re more into my genius idea than I thought.” 

Mizuki groaned in exasperation, bucking his hips towards Wuyang’s hand as he lifted it away to grab the lube. Wuyang smirked as Mizuki muttered a phrase in Japanese he had come to recognize over time as ‘shut up’. For now he decided to indulge Mizuki and let the sound of the lube bottle clicking open fill the space between them instead of more banal conversation. Mizuki watched as Wuyang tipped it upside down and shook a generous amount into his palm. It glistened in the warm glow of the lamp that illuminated the pair. With a free hand Wuyang found Mizuki’s hand once more and kissed it. Mizuki could only watch, drowning in his impatience.

Wuyang let go of Mizuki’s hand then in favor of finally, finally moving to tug at his waistband. His fingers ghosted through the trail of pale hairs below Mizuki’s navel, eliciting another shudder from him. In one swift motion he tugged the fabric down, and Mizuki’s cock was freed. Wuyang licked his lips as his hard length twitched, and for a moment Mizuki watched his demeanor crack. Briefly, he was just as needy and desperate as Mizuki, nearly forgetting everything about what he was doing other than the fact that he needed Mizuki as badly as Mizuki needed him. 

“Stop staring…” Mizuki protested quietly, throwing his arm over his blushing face and snapping Wuyang out of his lustful daze. Wuyang decided that he had stretched this on long enough, and he snaked a hand between Mizuki’s thighs. Mizuki flinched as the cold lube made contact with his most vulnerable of regions, but between his elevated body temperature and the roving of Wuyang’s fingers, the fluid was quick to become warm and comfortable. 

Wuyang’s touch danced along the rim of his hole, slicking him up before gently beginning to prod. Mizuki grit his teeth at the anticipation, his cock twitching with every pass over his asshole until Wuyang eventually allowed his middle finger to slip inside. Wuyang watched Mizuki bite down on his moans, half of his face still obscured by his arm. 

“Mizuki,” Wuyang said, “look at me.”

Hesitantly Mizuki peeked out from under his arm, then let it fall unceremoniously to the side as Wuyang’s eyes caught his.

“How does it feel?” Wuyang worked his finger against Mizuki’s warm, tight walls. “Relax. Don’t touch anything, let me touch you. I’ll keep you safe, remember?”

“Y-yeah,” Mizuki finally managed words, though they were little more than moans. “I’m just a little overwhelmed…” He lifted his hand to his mouth and closed his eyes again, flushed from his ears down to his shoulders. His next words were muffled by his palm, but Wuyang caught them easily, fixated on Mizuki. “You’re way too fucking sexy, I’m so hard. Just… just wanna fuck you already.” If Mizuki wasn’t already so red, he would have blushed again out of embarrassment for his mindless babble.

“If it’s too much I can stop,” Wuyang teased.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Mizuki snapped. 

“Mmkay,” Wuyang replied. The next thing Mizuki knew, Wuyang’s ring finger began to join the one inside of him. Mizuki allowed himself a smirk as Wuyang allowed him to indulge in thinking he had his way for a few moments. The taller man’s smirk was quick to fade, however, as his mouth fell open in pleasure. The sounds of lube squishing obscenely punctuated Wuyang’s motions as he diligently, but carefully, worked Mizuki’s hole open wider, gliding along his soft insides easily. Wuyang cursed under his breath at the tight warmth sliding around his fingertips. He watched Mizuki’s cock jump as each deep thrust of his fingers worked him deeper and brought him closer and closer to hitting the man’s prostate. 

Once he found it, Wuyang watched with satisfaction as Mizuki yelped. His cock wept precum onto his happy trail while his fist dug into the sheets. “Fuck! Right there-”

Wuyang couldn’t help himself. “Your shirikodama?”

“Shut the fuck up already,” Mizuki groaned back without missing a beat. Wuyang could only laugh; there was nothing that tickled him more than breaking Mizuki’s counterfeit composure.

Wuyang dragged his fingertips along Mizuki’s insides as he slowly made to withdraw them. Mizuki hissed at the cold emptiness left behind, but then he heard the click of a bottle cap again, followed by the wet sound of flowing lube. His eyes were hazy as he lay sprawled on the mattress, aching and needy and once again anxiously anticipating what was coming next.

Wuyang smeared the lube generously over the surface of the glass plug until it was practically dripping with the stuff. He nudged Mizuki’s thighs open wider — more for his own indulgence than anything else — as he shifted his position between them, and paused to pull his boxers the rest of the way down his legs. The tapered tip of the plug kissed Mizuki’s asshole as Wuyang readied it, locking eyes again. Wuyang’s eyes glimmered hungrily as he took in the sight of Mizuki bared to him; from his desperate leaking cock to his pulsing, waiting rim. 

Wuyang applied pressure to the plug, and Mizuki keened as his body responded readily. His muscles gave easily thanks to Wuyang’s deft and attentive preparation, allowing the cool, smooth surface to stretch him easily and deliciously. Mizuki’s back arched as Wuyang coaxed the plug fully into him until all that was visible was the clear flared base. Wuyang felt dizzy as he watched Mizuki’s hole throb around the intrusion, able to get an idea of just how much it was stretching him as he eyed the opaque glass. 

“How is that?” Wuyang couldn’t help but ask. Not only to check on Mizuki, but to hear his delicious moans as he tried to speak through the pleasure.

“It’s sitting…” Mizuki breathed as he trembled against the pillows. Already he looked as though he was moments from cumming. “Right up against my...”

Wuyang tilted his head, and gave a light tap on the base of the plug with his fingers. Just like that, Mizuki gasped.

“Perfect. It’s safe.” Wuyang sat back on the bed opposite Mizuki, admiring his work. The hand that wasn’t still coated in lube drifted to his own crotch. Wuyang let out a quiet moan as he remembered he was still wearing underwear, which had soaked through by now and begun to slicken his thighs. Stroking himself through his underwear, he directed a sheepish laugh at Mizuki, who was suddenly silent and watching him intently, cock now in hand. 

“I kinda neglected myself,” Wuyang admitted. “But now that that tight little hole of yours is good and plugged, we can worry about other things.” Mizuki’s heart pounded in his chest as Wuyang discarded his briefs and spread his thighs for his boyfriend, revealing the full extent of his arousal - hard, and soaked, and blushing with heat. He could only wait, splayed out against the pillows, as Wuyang then crawled closer to him. Their faces met, and Mizuki tilted his head upward in a kiss, but Wuyang didn’t meet it. Mizuki pouted — until Wuyang rose up on his knees and scooted forward, planting them against the pillows on either side of Mizuki’s head.

Mizuki stared up at Wuyang’s pussy above him, immediately feeling himself salivate. Wuyang didn’t allow him a chance to speak before he lowered his hips, pressing his wet hole to Mizuki’s lips. By now Wuyang was shaking as well, his resolve clearly crumbling now that he didn’t have to continue the shirikodama bit for the time being. A heady moan spilled from Wuyang’s lips; Mizuki made no hesitation in putting his tongue to work, eager to indulge in the fact that his boyfriend was feeling just as insane as he was by now.

“This is how you thank me for taking care of you,” Wuyang purred out as he rolled his hips, muffling Mizuki’s own moans and soaking his chin. “Lick me out like you’re grateful, yeah? Don’t forget to suck my dick while you’re at it.”

A symphony of moans poured from between Wuyang’s thighs as Mizuki obediently lapped at his slick and sucked on his clit. Wuyang filled his senses, from the heated skin contact to the warm, sweet fluid that he eagerly swallowed down. In this moment, there was nothing but Wuyang. Wuyang, who tangled locks of silver hair in his fingers as he passionately made love with Mizuki’s lips and tongue. Wuyang, who tilted his head back and poured erotic moans and gasps from the depths of the chiseled chest that Mizuki couldn’t sleep most nights without resting against. Wuyang, who didn’t take much longer riding Mizuki’s face before he began to lose himself in the throes of an orgasm, crying out and shaking as he dug his fingers into Mizuki’s scalp and drenched his face in his pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, Mizuki,” Wuyang breathed out. He gave a couple more good firm rolls of his hips before lifting them and allowing Mizuki to breathe properly. His cheeks flushed darkly as he watched his slit drip steadily onto Mizuki’s neck. 

“You taste so good…” was all Mizuki could say in his deliriously horny state, much to Wuyang’s amusement.

Wuyang backed up, and leaned down to kiss Mizuki briefly but sloppily. “Mmm. I do.”

“Wuyang.” Mizuki was breathless and he looked absolutely beautiful. White knuckling the sheets in his hand for the second time that night, Mizuki’s whole body twitched as his unbearable lust sent sparks through his system. He could swear he had never felt so horny in his life. His whole body was flushed by now, his cock red and aching and leaking hopelessly as Mizuki continued, painstakingly but obediently, to ignore it. His hair was ruined, his eyes half lidded and his mouth partway open, all aglow with sweat, Wuyang’s cum, and the fresh tracks of overwhelmed tears.

Wuyang stopped to stare indulgently again at him, taking in the fact that he had been the one to bring Mizuki into such a state. Mizuki tried his name again, lilting with a whine this time. “Wuyang…”

“Mhm?” Wuyang said, leaning forward and suddenly taking hold of Mizuki’s needy dick. He gave it a squeeze, feeling how tense and hard Mizuki was, all for him and only for him. Wuyang’s hole ached in response as Mizuki bucked into his grasp.

“Ngh,” Mizuki groaned rather lewdly, fully beside himself with need by now. “I can’t do this anymore. Please let me fuck you.”

“I think this is the first time you’ve said please all evening. And you said it so pretty, too,” Wuyang mused aloud. As he spoke, let go of Mizuki’s cock, and then he was shifting his hips again. This time he faced away from Mizuki, giving him a delicious view of his rippling back muscles and his perfectly round ass as Wuyang straddled Mizuki’s hips. Wuyang leaned forward, balancing himself with one hand on the bed as he reached below himself to take Mizuki’s cock in hand. Mizuki held his breath as Wuyang dipped his hips again, missing Mizuki’s tip in favor of grinding along his length. Mizuki grabbed Wuyang’s ass, gripping tightly and pulling an impish chuckle from Wuyang. He knew Wuyang was simply using his pussy to lube his cock, but every movement felt tantamount to torture by this point. 

“Wuyang, if you don’t put me inside you right the fuck now-”

“I can’t take it anymore either,” Wuyang gasped. Suddenly, Mizuki felt something soft and hot press up to his tip, and then his eyes rolled back in his head as Wuyang dropped his hips, taking Mizuki completely by surprise as he impaled himself all at once on Mizuki’s hard, waiting length.

It took everything in Mizuki to not cum immediately. Their voices blended together melodically as they moaned in unison. Wuyang looked downward to the space where they were joined, taking in Mizuki’s sweating, aching balls, as well as the space where Mizuki’s thick cock disappeared inside of him. As Wuyang started a slow circular grind of his hips, he closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of every inch of Mizuki inside of him. The way Mizuki stretched the depths of his tight walls and filled him out made his head spin. His own moans, as well as the sound of his plump ass smacking against Mizuki’s lower abdomen, began to fill the bedroom and drown out the night as he rode his boyfriend into the mattress.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck~” Every bounce was guided by Mizuki’s hand on Wuyang’s ass. Mizuki watched, panting and nearly drooling through his gritted teeth, as his cock disappeared in and out of that wet hole, each a perfect fit for the other. Wuyang glided over him smoothly, while still gripping and squeezing him in all the ways that only he knew could drive Mizuki insane. Their tandem moans grew louder and their movements more desperate; Mizuki began to thrust upward into Wuyang as Wuyang came down on him, heightening the pleasure for both of them. As they both raced together towards release, Mizuki watched as Wuyang pitched forward.

A hand found his asshole again — or rather, the glass plug keeping him stretched and filled and obedient for Wuyang. As Mizuki fucked up into Wuyang, Wuyang applied pressure to the plug repeatedly, more or less fucking it into him as much as the flared base would allow. Mizuki tossed his head back, pouring out cries of please and oh fuck and Wuyang. He was so close to cumming — he could feel his heavy balls seize in that telltale clench that told him he had mere moments. He tried to warn Wuyang, adding in a couple of urgent waits and a stop to his symphony of pleas. But Wuyang fully hilted himself, spun himself around on his cock, and looked Mizuki dead in the eyes. Mizuki lost himself then, eyes rolling back as his entire body tensed violently. Sheathed within the love of his life, he came hard, emptying his balls of a thick, healthy load that saturated Wuyang’s insides with warmth.

Wuyang caressed Mizuki’s cheek and shuddered as his own body was overcome by pleasure for the second time that night. Wuyang jerked his hips, milking the cum from Mizuki’s cock greedily as the older man fucked it into him, unable to stop himself from working his seed into Wuyang’s hole. As he did so, his own pleasure gushed forth again, spilling over Mizuki’s skin and soaking the bedsheets beneath them. 

“Ahh, Mizuki,” Wuyang gasped, riding out his orgasm until it subsided and his hips stuttered to a stop. Once it was over, Wuyang couldn’t help but fall forward atop Mizuki, panting gently.

“Fuck, Wucchan…” Mizuki slurred out the pet name, feeling drunk as Wuyang’s weight and heat suddenly overwhelmed him all over again, alongside the buzz of waning pleasure. His cock twitched, still seated deep inside of his thoroughly fucked boyfriend. “Felt so good to cum inside you…” Mizuki’s eyes drifted shut, then popped open. “Shit, was it okay for me to cum inside you?”

“Mizuki…” Wuyang sighed, muffled by the pillow his face had landed in. “You’re gonna ruin the moment. Would it kill you to just sit and breathe for once?” Wuyang ended his sentence with a blissful sigh, and gave a teasing clench around Mizuki’s cock. Oddly enough, this worked to ground Mizuki, and he mirrored Wuyang’s sigh as he wrapped his arm around him.

“I love you,” Mizuki murmured. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

“What do you mean?” Basking in the afterglow, Wuyang sounded sleepy all over again. “Why wouldn’t I? I love you too, y’know.”

Mizuki idly dragged a hand through Wuyang’s hair. He listened to the ever-present hum of the crickets outside. The breeze blew in through the window again, shifting sweaty locks of hair and cooling the room once more. A long silence passed before Mizuki muttered out, “Maybe we should try that ritual again sometime.”

Wuyang gave a groggy chuckle, drifting somewhere between states of consciousness. He was content where he lay draped over Mizuki's frame, his love still sheathed within him. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

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End