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It started as it always does, innocent and gentle. As gentle as the rays of the sun cascading through the small gaps of the tree’s foliage. As innocent as the faint brush of his hands against the small of his back. It all started when their paths intertwined that quiet yet sunny morning.
They get to see each other more often nowadays, and while Kazuha likes to pretend it is all because of the red thread of fate, he knows better. They are always looking for one another, always searching for the hands they had both grown so accustomed to. He knows it’s because they desperately call for the other.
Even if their encounters start the same way, they also end the same way. At some point, they had both become addicted to the sensual clashing of their bodies, to the intermingling of their breaths, and to the stolen kisses at the nightfall’s arrival. While Kazuha has never admitted to it out loud, under the moonlight, and after the glow of his release, Scaramouche looks breathtakingly beautiful. So beautiful Kazuha would kill to see it everyday. So beautiful, and all of it only for his eyes to see.
But their fleeting meetings always end the same way: in goodbyes. Until they find each other again.
And today? Today is no different. With Scaramouche’s head resting calmly on his lap, he gazes up towards the sky, catching the soft tune of the leaves swaying at the rhythm of the winds and the stray rays of the sun gleaming past the shadows of the tree. It’s a tender point in time, so much so he dares to travel his hand all the way from his back to the back of his neck.
He had no other intentions in mind, but Scaramouche turns around anyway. His face is no longer directed towards the view, instead, his indigo eyes are redirected at him. His expression tells Kazuha he wasn’t uncomfortable with the touch, but he is deep in thought, the words struggling to break free from the prison of his mouth. He grimaces momentarily, and his pale cheeks turn a beautiful hue of pink before he shoots up from his position.
It entices Kazuha with the idea of a much needed conversation, and while Scaramouche has always been a hard book to read- full of contradictions as he is -, he has consistently worn his heart on his sleeve. What he is going to share is beyond Kazuha, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a few ideas in mind.
Scaramouche doesn’t utter any words, only shifting to face Kazuha once more and possibly sifting through the sentences in his head. Kazuha doesn’t move, he waits patiently with his head resting against the bark of the tree.
“I-” he starts, swallowing his nervousness down and clearing his throat. “I’ve been thinking.”
Kazuha only hums, nodding his head to let him know he’s listening.
“I-, well, it’s just…” he scrunches his face in fleeting mortification and says, “I think I’m ready.”
“Ready?”
“Yeah, to…” he gestures to nothing in particular. “To take things further.”
Kazuha tries to pay no mind to the erratic beating of his heart. Rather, he raises and eyebrow at him, prompting Scaramouche to elaborate.
“I just think our encounters have grown to be too, uhm,” he pauses to look for the right word. “Monotonous,” and had Kazuha been anyone else, he would’ve had to strain his ears to hear.
That was certainly not the confession he was expecting. In fact, it might be even more surprising. He had never guessed the day where Scaramouche, out of his own accord, would admit to his ever growing appetite.
Kazuha is everything but blind to his partner’s desires. He has been able to tell for quite some time now that Scaramouche has been craving for more. It’s in the way he would look at him, his eyes filled with everlasting passion; but he had yet to bring the topic out himself. In part, because he enjoys the way Scaramouche longs for his touch like a mad-man, and in part, because he had yet to find the correct words to express it in a way that would not scare him away.
This surely makes things easier for him.
“You think sex has become stale,” and while there’s no bite in his words, he relishes on the way he can see all the blood leave Scaramouche’s face due to the bluntness of his words.
“That’s not entirely what I meant,” he huffs in irritation and crosses his arms defensively on his chest. “I know we’ve been taking things slow, but I’m telling you I’m ready to try something new.”
“Something new as in?”
“Well how would I kn-” he catches himself on the cusp of his mistake, backtracking nonchalantly on his words. “Why don’t you surprise me?”
Oh, Kazuha could absolutely work with that.
“Me?” he asks innocently, tilting his head lightly to the side and laying the trap.
“Yes, I’m giving you the chance to do whatever it is that you want to do.” His eyes glow with a challenge, one that Kazuha is not about to ignore.
He pretends to mull over his response, even tapping his chin for dramatic effect. “Is there anything off the table?”
“Not at all,” Scaramouche shrugs smugly, and the smirk on the corner of his mouth makes Kazuha want to kiss it away. “You just have to blow my mind.”
Kazuha hums in understanding. It’s almost endearing how fast he can make Scaramouche take the bait. He already has a few ideas in mind, and soon enough, he’ll make sure Scaramouche kisses his confidence goodbye.
“Deal.”
They meet again hours later in their rented room for the night. It’s located in a rather desolate inn at the outskirts of the city, where seldom any traveler stays, and tonight, it seems they’re the only ones present. The innkeeper barely glances at them, more preoccupied with closing for the day to retire to his own quarters as he hands them their keys.
The room is small, with hardly any space to walk, but the bed is ample enough for what they will use it for. Either way, neither of them care to take note. As soon as the door closes, they are drawn to each other like magnets, never able to drift too far and never able to get close enough.
Kazuha finds his lips with practiced ease and he allows himself to melt on his touch. The way Scaramouche’s fingers scratch the back of his head sends pangs of electricity down his spine. It’s intoxicating, it’s addicting, and he never thought poison could taste so close to salvation.
He pins Scaramouche against the wall, pushing his knee between his legs and untangling his hands from his hair to fix at either side of his head. Kazuha trails kisses down to his jaw, and he hears Scaramouche sigh softly and sees his eyes flutter to a close to savour the sensation. His mouth keeps travelling south, where he nips and licks at his jugular with passion. It’s his first mark of the night, and most certainly not the last.
He goes back to his lips for a quick peck before guiding Scaramouche to the bed. His hands make quick work of his clothes, making sure to linger when skin makes contact with skin.
“Lay on your stomach,” he commands an almost naked Scaramouche while he moves to take his own clothes off.
“What are we doing?” Scaramouche asks. He grabs a pillow to put below him for comfort and trains his gaze on Kazuha’s every move, being specially attentive when Kazuha finally takes his pants off.
He sends Scaramouche a cheeky smile and unties his hair from the prison of his elastic. “I’m eating your ass.”
The words take a second to settle, but when they do it’s in an explosion of colour. His face and shoulders flush a pretty shade of pink and his eyes open wide in the most beautiful sparkle of purple.
“My- What?!”
Kazuha shrugs, settling next to him on the bed. “You said you wanted to try something new, and I thought this was perfect to start.”
“To start?!” He gawks at him, changing positions to be on his side. A mistake really, because now Kazuha has the perfect view of the growing bulge of his underwear. He chuckles lightly and caresses the top of Scaramouche’s thighs.
“Has the thought ever crossed your mind, dearest, that perhaps you’ve given me too much power?”
Scaramouche scoffs, rolling back to his stomach. “Don’t get too full of yourself Kazuha, that would never happen.
“I can take whatever you throw at me,” and for the first time ever, Kazuha is grateful for Scaramouche’s unyielding pride.
He pries his legs open and sits in between them. His fingers follow the curvature of his spine all the way to his neck, his entire body following suit until his breath tickles the edge of Scaramouche’s ears and whispers. “Very well then.”
He starts by peppering small kisses on his shoulders, they’re soft and he doesn’t linger for too long on a single spot, but it never did take much for Scaramouche to relax under his touch. Kazuha’s lips travel south, making sure to peck the electro symbol on his back, and leaving a trail of fluttering butterflies on his skin. His hands latch to the small of his waist, so tiny and perfect Kazuha is almost able to swallow it whole with only his hands.
His thumb toys with the hem of Scaramouche’s underwear, a hint of his own eagerness even if his movements are teasingly slow. Once he reaches his destination, he momentarily steps back and with a swift motion, he frees Scaramouche from his briefs, paying no mind to the telltale sound of ripping fabric.
Kazuha spreads him apart with the ball of his thumbs, his entire being completely exposed to him. It’s a mesmerizing view, and had Kazuha not been so turned on, he might have felt inspired to write a few proses. He wastes no time to get to work, his tongue lapping desperately at his puckered hole.
It has Scaramouche squirming on the spot. His breathing gets heavier with each stroke of his tongue, his moans getting louder whenever Kazuha sucks a particular spot. Even if he’s already decided to take his time with him, having Scaramouche a whiny mess with only a few touches sends a jolt of heat directly to his groin.
He moves away for a second, not before sucking hard enough for his lips to produce a loud pop that has Scaramouche clutching viciously at the headboard.
“Is this okay love?” And Scaramouche can only nod, burying his head into the pillow.
“Don’t stop,” his plea is muffled and barely audible, but Kazuha can hear him loud and clear.
Kazuha merely smiles to himself, and brings two digits into his own mouth. His now coated fingers press against his entrance, setting a slow rhythm before his tongue licks at his hole once more. His fingers easily find the spot that Scaramouche loves so much, his back arching instinctively to give Kazuha better access and his cries resounding loudly in the confines of the room.
And Scaramouche’s moans always did sound like music to his ears. It’s in the crescendo of his voice, growing in volume with each press to his prostate. It creates the perfect consonance in their encore when combined with the filthy sounds of their love-making. It’s vulgar and obscene and it’s Kazuha’s favourite melody.
His tongue breaks the barrier, and joins his fingers as they thrust in and out of him. The heat of his tongue makes Scaramouche go insane. It licks and toys with his rim, setting all of his nerve endings on fire, getting him closer and closer. Kazuha has him at his entire mercy, forcing him to bite down on the pillow as the tension rises. Scaramouche humps at the pillow beneath him, trying to find any sort of friction to help him achieve his release.
He inserts a third finger, stretching him as wide as he can and picking up the pace. Soon enough, he picks up on the apparent signs of his incoming climax. His hole contracts around his fingers, his knuckles turn white with the force of his grip and his moans lose their purpose. He’s left a blubbering mess until he reaches the peak, crashing down with a force that has all the tension on his shoulders dissipating.
Kazuha rides him out of his orgasm, slowing his movements until they fully come to a halt. He smiles extremely pleased with himself, and takes his fingers out of him, watching as Scaramouche catches his breath and whimpers pathetically at the loss. His mouth moves to his left glute, opening to leave a love bite that makes Scaramouche yelp around in surprise.
Kazuha maintains eye contact as he moves to his other cheek, leaving a matching mark with his teeth on his perfectly symmetric body. He laughs lightly when he sees Scaramouche roll his eyes at him as he collapses on top of the pillows.
He taps the side of his hip softly. “Change positions to your back once you’re ready.” Scaramouche grumbles in understanding but makes no move to follow his orders.
Kazuha stands up from the bed and sets to find his long lost bag forgotten somewhere by the door. Thankfully, he finds it neatly tucked into a corner, all of its contents unharmed. He picks it up and turns around to go back to the bed, and he sees Scaramouche’s curious eyes on him. He’s already moved to lay on his back, his eyebrow raised as he motions towards the bag on Kazuha’s hand.
“What’s in there?”
Kazuha smiles, and sets the bag on top of the bed. His hands find Scaramouche’s legs and pushes on them until his knees almost touch his face.
“Could you grab them for me please?” Scaramouche obeys without much complaint, gripping his legs with his own hands, but he still has a puzzled look on his face.
“Kazuha?” His voice holds no warning, only mild concern. Almost as if he knows he’s been cornered without a way to escape.
But Kazuha doesn’t dignify him with a response, instead, he takes his bottle of lube and his ovipositor out of the bag. He dangles it teasingly in Scaramouche’s field of vision.
“This,” he says simply.
“And that is…?” Scaramouche narrows his eyes, but Kazuha can see the regret forming on his face. He probably won't be ecstatic to hear the answer.
“An ovipositor,” he deadpans, moving to take a small container out of the bag. “To use with this.”
Inside there’s three small yet clear egg-shaped balls. They’re made specifically for the purpose Kazuha has in mind, all the fruits of his own labour.
“To use where exactly, Kazuha?” his tone is careful, treading slowly with his syllables as if to not onset him.
“Inside of you, of course,” he mentions casually.
Scaramouche only blinks at him in stupefaction, not being able to utter a single word. Deciding he has nothing left to add, Kazuha grabs the bottle of lube and lathers a generous amount on the double-holed dildo. Once he is satisfied, he shifts his focus to Scaramouche’s own asshole, drifting his coated fingers closer.
And he would have accomplished his goal, had Scaramouche not dropped his legs to either side of him.
“You’re kidding,” he sounds incredulous. Out of everything he might have been expecting, this was most certainly not it.
“Not at all,” Kazuha says, tapping lightly on his thighs as a sign for Scaramouche to bring them back up again. “Unless you don’t want to?”
Purple meets red in defiance, but Scaramouche has already lost this battle, and Kazuha has nothing left to lose. It had all been decided that morning, when he decided to trudge through dangerous territory, so he can only deal with the consequences of his actions now.
Predictably, he relents and carries his legs back up to grab his thighs more securely in his hands. He whispers a few non-heartful obscenities at him and pouts in his direction.
“You’re crazy.”
“Perhaps,” he moves his fingers closer to him once more. “But I’m mostly crazy about you.”
“Archons,” Kazuha only chuckles at the roll of his eyes. “And insufferable. You’re insufferable.”
He presses his digits inside of him, making sure to cover his ass with enough lube. He earns a small hiss out of Scaramouche, watching him bite his bottom lip to prevent his moans from slipping away from him.
“Where did you-” he pauses to recover the strength of his voice. “Where did you even get one of these?”
“Hmm, do you really want to know?”
“Actually, no, I don’t.”
So he doesn’t tell Scaramouche a crewmate from the Alcor gave it to him as a ‘gift’ for his birthday, saying he must be a bird for all the time his head is up in the clouds. He doesn’t tell him he never had any interest in using it, and he definitely doesn’t tell him he searched for it not long after they started their casual escapades waiting for this exact moment to happen.
Scaramouche’s only warning is Kazuha’s heated gaze as he brings the ovipositor close to his entrance. It slips in with surprising ease, his walls hugging it admirably in place as he lets out a shaky breath. Kazuha pumps the dildo in and out to get him adjusted to the sensation. His hands move slowly, dragging Scaramouche’s soft puffs of air out of him.
He keeps the motion going as he inserts the first egg into the ovipositor, pushing as deep as his fingers would allow. The second and third egg follow suit, and with a sharp thrust of his finger, the first egg nestles deep inside Scaramouche. His head hits the pillow with a thud, his mouth opens in a moan that makes no sound, and his legs shake with effort.
“Are you okay?” Kazuha asks, tracing soothing circles on his calf and plating a kiss on his inner thigh.
“It-” he hiccups. “It feels weird.”
“Do you want me to stop?” Despite everything, there’s concern in his voice.
“It’s not like that,” he says, shaking his head and sounding more like himself. “It just caught me by surprise.”
Kazuha smiles sweetly at him, as radiant as the sun, and bites the spot he had previously kissed, soothing the skin with his tongue. His hands get back to work. Taking the ovipositor out of Scaramouche slowly, he tightly grabs its base, practically squeezing the eggs out of it to deposit inside. The second egg settles without much issue, but he has trouble getting the last one in. With a little finessing, he manages to take it out of the dildo, discarding it to the side, having already completed its purpose.
He pushes the last egg dangerously peaking at him back deep inside with his middle finger. Scaramouche can do nothing but close his eyes, still getting used to the feeling of being so full. But the eggs seem to already be melting inside of him, as the fluids overflow out of him no matter how hard he tries to clench his hole to keep it all in. He’s damp and wet and practically begging Kazuha to fuck his brains out already.
So he obliges, aligning himself to enter him in one swift move. It pushes the eggs even deeper inside of him, clashing against the tip of Kazuha’s cock deliciously. It has them both seeing the stars. It has them both panting and moaning and craving for more.
Whatever self-restraint Kazuha had left gets thrown out the window as he grabs Scaramouche’s legs and ruts uncontrollably against him. The squelching mixed with Scaramouche’s moans drives him mad to the point of no return. His walls contract against him as he comes for the second time tonight, but Kazuha keeps on moving, not close to having his fill. Not even remotely enough.
He searches desperately for his release while Scaramouche claws desperately at his back. His eyes are filled with tears, yet their bodies move continuously in tandem, making the bed creak in protest.
“Kazu-” he tries, but Kazuha is long gone. His mind is hyper focused on every sensation. Focused on the man underneath him as he desperately begs for mercy, as his pretty eyes flutter to a close and tears stream down his cheeks.
He catches the way his lips tremble slightly and he moves to catch them in between his teeth until he almost draws blood. Scaramouche’s cries get drowned by his tongue, Kazuha swallowing his every noise.
He’s nowhere near done, but as he nears his edge, he feels the way the eggs melt inside of him. He can’t feel their distinct shape anymore, probably gone from Kazuha’s abuse. A shame really, since he would've enjoyed watching Scaramouche actually lay them. It’s not all a lost cause, however. In turn, it makes Scaramouche impossibly wet, allowing Kazuha to slide in and out with incredible ease. He manages to push deeper, faster, harder. His steady rhythm is no more, he can only think about reaching the hidden confines of his body.
His cock hits ruthlessly at his bundle of nerves, close to cruel in its onslaught. Their touches become electrifying, and everywhere Scaramouche’s hands travel, a path of goosebumps follows closely behind. Even with all the lube, he’s impossibly tight. He swallows Kazuha’s cock so perfectly, as if both their bodies were molded for each other, meant for each other.
His purple eyes disappear at the back of his head as he comes for the third time. His mouth, unable to form any coherent words anymore, flutters on a choked moan and his eyes appear puffy from all the crying.
This time, Kazuha follows suit, spilling his cum inside as he catches his breath. He huffs and brings his lips close to Scaramouche’s ear.
He growls, the sound guttural and almost animalistic. “Was this mind-blowing enough?”
But Scaramouche can’t speak at all, he only sobs slightly as his entire body trembles from the pleasure. His hands hold onto Kazuha’s arm in a vice grip as he recovers, effectively keeping him in place. They are both a sweaty mess, noticeable in the way his own hair sticks uncomfortably on his neck and Scaramouche’s bangs are plastered on his forehead. He reaches with his free arm to push them away, and just like that, Scaramouche goes limp on his arms. All of his strength leaves his body as he lays there, gone to the world.
He might have pushed him a little too hard, he thinks to himself as he sees his unconscious body. Yet, he sees the steady rise and fall of Scaramouche’s chest and decides not to worry. Instead, he carefully extracts himself from him, pulling out slowly. The remnants of the eggs flow out of him intermingled with Kazuha’s own cum. He stops to watch it drip down his ass towards the bedsheets, effectively defiling them with the fruits of their intimacy.
Kazuha has to hold himself from lapping him clean with his own tongue. He’s tried his luck enough today, and he has a feeling Scaramouche might get embarrassed enough to smite him on the spot if he were to ever learn the truth.
He stands up and makes way towards the small bathroom, grabbing a small towel he damps with warm water. He turns around, ready to get back to Scaramouche's side when he catches his frame curled up against the pillow. Kazuha rests his head gently against the door frame, chuckling at Scaramouche’s placid expression as he sleeps, completely spent from their activities. He moves closer to him, and starts wiping his body with care, careful to not wake him up.
And if anything, he hopes Scaramouche learns to never underestimate him.