Chapter Text
As kids, Naoya doesn’t understand why his older cousin doesn’t talk to anyone, why he sulks under the sakura tree in the garden of the Zen’in estate instead of hanging out with him. They’re only five years apart; close enough to the same age that Toji can still play with him, right?
“Toji-kun,” Naoya says, walking up to him. He puts his hands on his hips and puffs his cheeks out in a frown. “Come play with me.”
Toji picks up a seed from the dirt and flicks it at Naoya, snickering when it nails him in the face. “Go play by yourself, brat.”
“Come on!” Naoya whines, scrubbing at his cheek in irritation. “We’re cousins! You’re supposed to hang out with me!”
“Why would I want to hang out with you? You’re practically a baby.”
“I am not!”
Toji brushes him off, waving his words away. “Go play somewhere else.”
Naoya growls, hands fisted at his sides. He stomps over to Toji and plops down next to him, folding his arms with a hmph. “No one says no to me!”
“Spoiled,” Toji snorts. “Your old man doesn’t hit you for saying shit like that?”
“Of course not,” he says indignantly. “I can say whatever—” he pauses, uncertain for a split second, “—shit I want!”
“Do you even know what that word means?”
Naoya opens his mouth, then closes it. No, he doesn’t, but he doesn’t want to prove Toji’s point about being a baby. He scowls when Toji ruffles his hair and chuckles. How dare he laugh at him!
“It’s alright, I won’t tell.” He mutters, “Even if you probably wouldn’t get in trouble anyway.”
“Why would I be in trouble?”
“Because it’s a grown up word.”
Naoya grins, eagerly shifting onto his knees to face his cousin. “Then it’s fine, I’m basically a grown up already!” Toji tries to bite back his smile, but Naoya sees it, his heart skipping in his chest as he grabs onto Toji’s sleeve. “See, I’m not a baby! So you can hang out with me now, right?”
Toji rubs his chin like he’s thinking about it, and Naoya holds his breath. “Fine, I guess.”
Naoya beams, scrabbling to his feet. He tugs at Toji’s shirt, fingers twisted in the fabric. Toji rolls his eyes and stands up, brushing himself off as he lets Naoya drag him back inside.
-
Naoya thinks he understands a little more the night he manages to convince his father to let him and Toji go to a movie theater. He’d never be allowed to go on his own, but with Toji it’s safe, and Naoya is brimming with excitement to go out of the house and do something fun with his cool older cousin.
“Why do I have to take him?” Toji sniffs, folding his arms when Naobito informs him he’s taking Naoya out.
“Because that’s all you’re good for,” Naobito tells him, sneering down his nose at the older boy. “That, and being a hole.”
Toji stiffens, and Naoya looks between the two of them in confusion. He doesn't know what that means.
“Was that supposed to hurt my feelings?” Toji spits back. Naoya doesn’t like either of their tones—why are they arguing?
“Toji-kun, let’s go,” Naoya says, grabbing his cousin’s wrist and tugging.
Toji narrows his eyes at Naobito one more time before walking out with Naoya, jerking his wrist out of his grasp and shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Why did you guys say those things?” He struggles to keep up with Toji’s pace, running to stay at his side as they make their way into town.
“It’s nothing,” Toji says, his voice clipped. “None of your business.”
Naoya scrunches up his nose. “It wasn’t very nice.”
Toji laughs, but it sounds all wrong. Not joyous—bitter. “Yeah, well, your old man ain’t exactly a nice guy, alright?” He stops at the crosswalk and turns, leaning down towards Naoya when he finally catches up. “Don’t fall behind, or he’ll beat my ass for losing you. Wouldn’t want that precious technique of yours to go to waste on a dead heir, right?”
Naoya’s brow furrows. “What does that mean?”
Toji purses his lips and straightens up. “Nevermind. Let’s just go.” He pivots and takes a step into the street, and Naoya makes a strangled sound of protest.
“Wait!”
Toji stops again, looking back. “What now?”
Naoya twists his hands in front of him, suddenly feeling nervous. “Not s’posed to cross the street alone.”
Toji drags a hand down his face. “I’m right here, brat. It’s fine, come on.”
Naoya sticks his hand out expectantly. Toji stares before grabbing it, yanking Naoya into the street. He hurries to catch up with the older boy’s strides, Toji’s larger hand wrapped around his as he mutters under his breath. Naoya barely has time to think, let alone register the warmth of Toji’s skin spreading up his arm and collecting in his cheeks.
They reach the other side all too soon and Toji drops his hand, glaring at him. “Happy?”
Naoya nods, his face flushed. Strangely, he kind of wishes Toji would have held on a little longer.
Toji lets Naoya pick out whatever snacks he wants at the counter, his excitement bubbling over as he looks at the colorful displays of candies and popcorn and sugary drinks. His father would never do this with him, nor any of the other clan members. Toji rolls his eyes, but he waits for Naoya to buy an armful of candy before steering him into the showroom.
“Are you really going to eat all that?” Toji asks, looking doubtfully at Naoya’s stash of treats.
“Yes,” he insists, offering Toji a small box of chocolates. “Do you want some?”
“Chocolate, huh?” Toji accepts the box as they take their seats, ripping open the top of the package and popping a handful in his mouth. “You know you’re only supposed to give chocolates to people you like, Nao.”
“I like you,” Naoya announces, and Toji almost chokes laughing.
“Not like that.” He gestures vaguely in the air. “You know, a crush. When you like like someone.”
Naoya frowns, opening a package of sour candy. “I don’t know what that means.”
Toji shrugs. “Yeah, I guess you’re too young for that.”
Naoya bristles. He hates when Toji says stuff—shit—like that. “Am not! Explain it to me!”
Toji chews thoughtfully. “It’s when you get butterflies and shit in your stomach, and you hold hands and kiss and whatever.”
Naoya frowns. Is that not what happens when he sees Toji? They don’t kiss, but they could. Would that mean he likes Toji then? “So if we kiss, does that mean—hey!” He squeals when Toji shoves his face away, chuckling under his breath. Naoya throws a candy at him, grinning triumphantly when it hits Toji in the eye. “Why can’t we kiss?” he demands, eyes wide, shoving another candy in his mouth.
Toji rubs his eye with the heel of his palm. “Well for one, we’re cousins.”
“So?”
“You really want your first kiss to be with your family?”
“Yes,” Naoya says without hesitation. If it's Toji, the answer is yes.
Toji grunts around another mouthful of chocolate. “Yeah, whatever. Pay attention, the movie is about to start.”
Naoya pouts, but does as he’s told.
The movie is scarier than Naoya expected, and at one point he squeaks and hides his face in his hands. “Toji, it’s scary!” he whispers. “Why is it scary?”
“Naoya, you’re a sorcerer,” Toji whispers back. “You’re gonna have to kill curses scarier than that.”
“I don’t want to!” he cries.
“Shhh!” Toji hisses, clapping his hand over his mouth. A few people turn to look at them and Toji lowers his head closer to Naoya’s face. “Shut up and be quiet, or I’ll leave you in the theater by yourself.”
Naoya gasps, muffled by Toji’s hand. “You wouldn’t!”
“I definitely would,” Toji says dryly. “Now stop talking. You’re bothering everyone.”
Naoya grumbles, settling back into his seat when Toji lets him go. The movie sucks him back in, bright lights flashing over his face as the scenes grow progressively scarier. He keeps his hands over his mouth to hold in his gasps, finally squeezing his eyes shut when someone gets decapitated on screen. A hiccupping sob rolls through him, tears streaming down his face. He doesn’t want to do this anymore, it’s too awful, he doesn’t like it—
A hand grabs his wrist and suddenly he’s being dragged out of the theater and pulled into the brightly lit bathroom. “Are you crying?” Toji demands.
“N-no,” Naoya sniffles, wiping his snot with his sleeve. He looks up at Toji with watery eyes, his cousin blurred by the tears matting his lashes. “Only b-babies cry.”
Toji sighs. “Okay, okay—you’re not a baby, alright? Will you stop crying? I don’t want to get hit because of you.”
That only makes Naoya cry harder, and Toji makes a sound of exasperation. Finally he stiffly wraps his arms around Naoya’s trembling shoulders, hugging him close to his chest. Naoya sniffles again, fisting his hands in Toji’s shirt, burying his face in the fabric. He doesn’t understand why Toji keeps saying stuff like that, Naobito has never done anything like that to Naoya.
“Are you done now?” Toji grumbles.
Naoya nods and Toji pulls away. There’s a wet spot where Naoya’s face was, snot and tears soaked into his cousin’s shirt. “Will you h-hold my hand on the way home?”
“Fine, whatever.”
Naoya leaves the theater much happier, his hand nestled into Toji’s larger one.
-
The movie gives him nightmares, and after weeks of waking up in a cold and fearful sweat, Naoya has had enough. He sneaks off to Toji’s room, sliding the door open and slipping inside. Toji is asleep and Naoya wriggles onto the futon with him, latching onto his cousin and burying his face in his chest.
“What the…” Toji mumbles, blearily opening his eyes. “Nao? What are you doing?”
“I can’t sleep,” Naoya whispers.
“So go somewhere else and not sleep,” Toji mumbles. “I’m sleeping.”
“You’re awake now!”
“Because you woke me up.”
Naoya bites his lip. “Can I please stay?”
Toji rubs his eyes and sighs. “Fine. But only if you’re quiet, I’m going back to sleep.”
Naoya tightens his grip as Toji rolls over and ignores him. It’s fine, though; just being in the same bed with him is infinitely more comforting than being alone, and Naoya falls asleep almost immediately.
They do this for some time, until the balmy summer nights stretch into the cool evenings of autumn. Naoya sneaks into Toji’s room and Toji grumpily scoots over to make room for him, telling him to shut up and go to sleep as his fingers reluctantly thread into blond hair. Naoya often thinks of kissing Toji as he cuddles up to him, of what Toji said to him at the theater. They've already held hands and Naoya frequently gets lightheaded and fuzzy inside whenever Toji is around, but he's never kissed anyone before. He wants to kiss Toji, he doesn't care if they're cousins. Why does it matter? Naoya likes him, and Toji says that's what people who like each other do.
Their nights always end with Toji waking first and kicking Naoya out of his bed before anyone finds them, but one morning he wakes before Toji, curled up on top of his favorite cousin. Naoya sighs contentedly, wiggling in closer, only for his eyes to flutter open at something hard poking at him. Toji is still passed out, and Naoya tries to get comfortable again, only for it to poke at him even more. What is that? Why is it so uncomfortable? He sticks his hand in between them and feels something under Toji’s pants, something warm that moves in his hand when he touches it.
Green eyes blink open and Naoya gives him a curious look. “Why are you sleeping with something in your pants?”
“I’m not,” Toji says dryly. “You should...probably not do that.”
“Do what?” Naoya asks. He sits up and looks down, frowning at the bulge in his hand. He squeezes it and Toji makes a breathy sound that makes Naoya’s head snap up. “Why’d you make that sound? Are you okay?”
“No reason,” Toji says, watching Naoya through a curtain of dark lashes. “I’m fine.”
Naoya pouts. “What is it?”
“Grown up stuff,” Toji smirks.
Naoya narrows his eyes. “I’m sick of you saying that! I want to do grown up stuff too!”
“You do, huh?” Toji asks, tapping his chin. “You haven’t even kissed anyone yet, though.”
“What does that have to do with—?" Naoya's eyes widen. He wants to kiss Toji, has thought about it almost obsessively every night they've slept together. "Wait, does this mean we can kiss now?”
Toji shrugs. “I guess.”
Naoya scoots closer to him, straddling Toji’s waist with his legs. He looks at Toji’s lips, at how soft they look, and his chest flutters lightly. Determined, he leans down and gives him a quick peck, sitting up again immediately. “How was that?”
Toji grunts. “Pathetic.”
Naoya’s mouth drops open. Pathetic? “What!” he sputters. “How are you supposed to do it, then?”
“Are you asking me to teach you?” Toji drawls. “While I’m…” he gestures below his waist, and Naoya cocks his head.
“While you’re what?”
Toji shakes his head. “Nothing. Come here.” Naoya leans down closer again, blinking owlishly at him. “Close your eyes, Nao. You’re supposed to keep them closed.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Toji says, without offering any further explanation.
Naoya huffs, but obediently closes his eyes. “Like this?”
“Mhm.”
“What do I do now?”
“Just keep your eyes closed.”
Toji draws him closer and Naoya's heart speeds up, the warmth of Toji’s breath ghosting over his skin. The press of their lips is soft—so soft, just like he'd imagined, the gentle pressure on his mouth making him dizzy. It’s much nicer than the kiss Naoya gave him, the sensation of Toji’s lips on his turning his insides to jelly, an unexplained warmth fluttering in his lower belly.
“Is it s’posed to feel like that?” he mumbles against Toji’s mouth, eyes popping open again.
Toji cracks one eye to look at him. “Feel like what?”
“Funny,” Naoya says. “In my…” he trails off, unsure how to explain.
Toji exhales a quiet laugh. “What, is your dick getting hard already?”
“Why would my…” he frowns, pulling back and looking over his shoulder. “Is yours? What does that mean?”
“Your old man doesn't…?” Naoya stares. What does his father have to do with this? “Nevermind. Do you even know what sex is, Nao? Have you ever jerked off before?”
Naoya feels his ears burn hot. He doesn’t know what those things are, but he wishes he did so Toji wouldn’t treat him like a kid. He folds his arms and turns up his nose, giving Toji the best haughty look he can muster up. “So why don’t you show me, since you’re so grown up?”
Toji laughs—not bitter this time, pretty green eyes full of amusement. “You asked. Scoot back a little.”
Naoya shifts between Toji’s thighs, watching curiously as Toji pushes his pants low on his hips. His eyes go moon round when he sees how big he is under his clothes, how he’s flushed and full and not like Naoya at all. “Oh,” he says softly, eyes locked onto the hard flesh laying against Toji’s hip. “Why does it...look like that?”
“Because you were touching it,” Toji says, like that explains everything.
“Can I touch it again?” he asks, unable to tear his gaze away. Looking at it makes his stomach flip and his ears burn hotter, something stirring inside him as he worries his lip between his teeth.
“Go for it,” Toji says, folding his hands behind his head. Naoya hesitantly reaches forward, tracing his finger along a vein on the underside. It twitches and Naoya’s stomach somersaults, his whole body flushing hot. He gingerly wraps his fingers around it and looks up at Toji, admiring the weight in his hand and how his cousin’s cheeks suddenly tint pink.
“Oh!” Naoya says, blinking when a drop of fluid appears at the tip. He dabs at it with his finger, looking up again when Toji makes a sound close to a groan.
“Should lick it off,” Toji tells him, and Naoya doesn’t understand why but does it anyway. He wants to hear Toji make that sound again, that soft groan that makes Naoya’s legs clamp together and his skin warm all over. His tongue dips just over the slit, lapping up the little bead of moisture over velvety skin. It tastes a little salty, but he’s rewarded with another pretty sound from Toji and Naoya thinks he would probably do anything to hear him make that sound forever.
“Can I do it again?” he asks, licking his lips. Kissing was good, but this is even better.
Toji nods, voice rough as he says, “Like an ice cream.”
Naoya extends his tongue again, dragging it over Toji’s skin, shivering when more fluid comes out. He does just like Toji says, licking as if it were an ice cream, his insides squirming the more he listens to the sounds Toji makes. A hand threads into Naoya’s hair and pulls, sharp and heavy on the top of his head. It hurts but Naoya doesn’t mind, as long as Toji lets him stay right here, as long as Naoya is the front and center of his attention.
“Nao,” Toji says breathlessly. He glances up, thighs clenching again when he sees green eyes blazing with heat. “Something's gonna come out if you keep going.”
Naoya’s eyes light up. He likes the fluid that comes out of the tip, likes smearing his fingers through it and licking it up with his tongue, and now Toji says there’s more?
“Fuck,” Toji mutters, his hips stuttering up into Naoya’s hand. Naoya gives the tip one long lick and suddenly it gushes in his mouth, catching him off guard. He almost reels back but Toji holds his head firmly in place, warm liquid shooting out all over Naoya’s cheek and nose. He watches as Toji shudders, eyes screwing shut as his hips rock back and forth, the hot flesh in Naoya's hand twitching and pulsing with every spurt.
“What is…?” he asks, wiping his cheek off when Toji finally stills. It’s white and sort of thick, and he promptly sticks his fingers in his mouth to suck it off. It tastes a bit weird but Naoya likes it, likes that it came from Toji.
“It’s cum,” Toji informs him, watching with heady interest as Naoya licks his hand clean.
“Oh,” Naoya says, nodding like he already knew that. “Can I do that, too?”
Toji exhales a laugh. “Yeah, maybe another time.”
“Tonight?”
Toji sits up and peels off his shirt, grabbing Naoya’s face and forcibly wiping the rest of his mess from his skin. “Maybe. Can’t let you go back to your room like this, though. Your old man will kill me.”
Naoya almost protests, but decides against it. He’s seen the way they argue, the way Naobito yells at Toji and throws his gourd at him. He’s seen the way his uncles and cousins are too, the way Ogi smacks Toji across the face when he dares to disagree with him, the way Nobuaki threatens him any time Toji kicks his chin up in defiance. He doesn’t want those things for Toji, and he doesn’t want to cause more trouble for him.
-
Naoya has never had a crush but he thinks Toji might be his first, his heart beating uncontrollably and his stomach twisting in knots in the rare moments Toji lets him lace their fingers together or sit in his lap.
“Do you like me?” Naoya asks him one day, his head on Toji’s thigh under the tree in the garden. They often sit outside together in the sun, insects buzzing and birds chirping the daylight hours away as they wait for night to fall.
“Barely,” Toji jibes, and Naoya swats at him.
“I’m serious!”
Toji shrugs without answering. “Why?”
“I like you,” Naoya says simply, staring up at him, wide eyed and innocent. Toji’s mouth quirks in a half smile, the one he sometimes lets Naoya see when no one else is around, and Naoya’s heart squeezes. “So, do you like me or not?”
Toji snorts. “I thought you said no one says no to you?”
“Is that a yes?”
Toji leans back against the tree, folding his arms. “I didn’t say it was a no.”
Naoya’s face falls at the indirect answer, a growl bubbling up from his throat. “Yes or no, Toji!”
“Damn, calm down,” Toji says, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. “You’re so impatient.” His lopsided smile is irritatingly smug as he adds, “Brat.”
Naoya punches him in the thigh. “Come on, tell me!”
One eye opens to reveal a sliver of green. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Naoya shifts onto his knees, resting his hands on the tree trunk on either side of Toji’s head. He leans forward to steal a kiss, the sunlight pooling around them in scattered patches of warmth. Toji's mouth is soft as ever, his dark lashes brushing Naoya's nose, tilting his head to the side to delve his tongue between his lips. Of course he would like to know; he wants it so bad he can practically taste it.
Voices float through the garden and Toji pushes his face away, knocking him into the grass again. “Someone’s gonna see, Naoya,” Toji reminds him, and Naoya folds his arms and hmphs.
“What if I don’t care who sees,” he grumbles.
“You really want your old man to know?”
Naoya stares at the sunlight peeking through the cherry blossoms, trying to imagine a life where they don’t have to sneak around to be together, where they can kiss and hold hands without fear of their family’s disapproval. “Would it be so bad?”
Toji shrugs. “For you? Probably not.”
“What about you?”
Toji is silent and Naoya looks at him, his brows pinching at the suddenly blank expression on his cousin’s face. He stands abruptly, leaving Naoya alone in the grass as he disappears inside the estate.
-
It’s not long before Naoya learns how to suck Toji off properly, licking him all over until Toji’s breath stutters in his chest before suckling at the head, eagerly hollowing his cheeks as his mouth fills with cum. He could spend hours getting Toji off and sometimes he does, sighing contentedly when Toji plays with his hair or scratches his nails against his scalp. It makes Naoya feel strange between his thighs, makes him writhe and pant and long for Toji to touch him, too.
“Toji,” Naoya whispers one night, after he’s sucked his cousin off twice and Toji is half asleep. Naoya squirms, an uncomfortable stiffness between his legs; unfulfilled, unsatisfied, hungry.
“Go to sleep, Nao.”
“But…” Naoya shifts, wriggling, restless. He grabs Toji’s hand and presses it there, a silent plea for more. Naoya doesn’t know how to come, how to make himself release the same way Toji does when Naoya touches him. “I want to come like you do,” Naoya begs. “Show me how.”
“Needy little brat.” Toji withdraws his hand to ruffle his hair, much to Naoya’s disappointment.
“Come on,” he whines. Naoya wants it so bad and he always gets what he wants, why won’t Toji give it to him?
“You really want it that bad, huh?”
Naoya vigorously nods. He can’t think of anything he wants more.
“Mm...I guess,” Toji acquiesces. “Fine. Take off your clothes.”
Naoya scrambles to sit up, kicking off his clothes and climbing into Toji’s lap. His length isn’t quite like Toji’s, but it still sits hard and wanting between his legs as he looks down at his cousin. “How do I…?” he starts, unsure of himself. “What do I do?”
Toji sticks one of his fingers in his own mouth. It’s wet and slick when he pulls it away, and he motions Naoya closer. “C’mere.”
Naoya leans forward and happily accepts the kiss tilted up to meet him, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek when he feels Toji’s finger brush someplace completely new. Naoya sits bolt upright, staring down at him warily. That’s not somewhere he’s touched Toji before, why is Toji touching him there?
“Why…?”
Toji snorts softly. “You like it in your mouth, right?”
Naoya nods. He likes that a lot, likes the way Toji grows hard against his tongue and fills his belly with hot cum, rewarding Naoya with those pretty sounds and soft hands gripping his blond hair. Toji coaxes him forward and Naoya follows, closing his eyes and breathing against Toji’s lips as he brushes over Naoya’s hole again. It’s wet and feels strange, Naoya’s brows pinching when Toji starts to rub over his rim and strange becomes good. He pushes inside and Naoya audibly gasps, Toji’s other hand clamping hard over his mouth to silence him.
“Be quiet,” Toji tells him, voice low as he slowly removes his hand. “How am I supposed to get my dick in you if you can’t handle a finger?”
“Sorry,” Naoya whispers. His eyes widen as Toji’s words click into place. “Wait—you can…? In my…?”
“Yeah, that’s what sex is,” Toji explains.
Naoya shivers. “I want that.”
Toji smirks. “I know you do.”
Toji slowly works him open and Naoya’s face flushes so red he hides it in his cousin’s neck, mouthing and biting at his skin as Toji’s finger slides in and out of him. The sensation is utterly foreign but Toji's kisses are achingly familiar, his other hand pressed against the small of Naoya's back to hold him in place. His legs feel loose and wobbly the more Toji touches him, and he whimpers softly as he grinds his smaller dick against Toji’s stomach. Something warm pools in his abdomen, a pressure in his lower belly, and Naoya panics. It feels like he has to pee, like he might pee all over himself at any moment. “Toji—wait,” he whispers frantically. “Feels like—I gotta—”
“Naoya,” Toji murmurs. “You’re fine.”
“What if I—” Naoya starts, screwing his eyes shut. What if he pees on Toji and makes a mess all over his bed? What if he can’t come? What if—
Toji presses firmly into one spot, rubbing Naoya’s insides until he mewls. Is this what coming feels like? It’s almost too much for him, the nape of his neck sticky with sweat and his body trembling harder than ever before. He bites at Toji’s shoulder to muffle his sob, the pressure sharp and unbearable before suddenly turning liquid, his eyes fluttering as warmth gushes from his cock. Hot tears streak down his face as he moans, hips rutting helplessly into his own mess.
If this is the precursor to sex, Naoya has never wanted anything more in his entire life.
-
He’s determined to learn how to have sex after that, begging Toji to stretch him more and more every night. They grind and frot against one another, the sexual tension nearly unbearable now that Naoya knows there’s so much more he’s missing out on. He wants—no, not want, it’s so much deeper than that—he needs Toji inside him, needs to be marked by his cousin in a way he hardly understands, and can’t possibly try to explain. Toji explained crushes to him once but that doesn’t quite cover it, doesn’t properly describe the deep seated yearning festering inside his chest. He doesn’t know the word for it, only that his adoration for his cousin flows freely from every cell in his body, that Toji is special in a way no one else is.
If he knew what love was, he thinks this would be it.
The first time they have sex is just after dawn. They’ve been up all night and the sun has started to bleed into Toji’s room, hues of pink and orange heralding their night together coming to an end.
“Please, I can take it this time,” Naoya pants, hands tangled in black hair. “Please, please…”
Green eyes flick up from between Naoya’s legs. They’ve tried a few times before; unsuccessfully, since Naoya has never had anything larger than a few fingers inside him and he seizes up in pain anytime Toji gets more than just the head in. But Toji has been teasing him for what seems like an eternity, Naoya’s hips propped up on a pillow, alternating between fingering Naoya’s hole until he cries and licking him until he’s sweating and red in the face, all without ever letting him come—and Naoya is dead set on finally getting all of Toji inside him, even if it tears him in half. “You sure?”
Naoya nods, biting his lip. Sometimes Toji comes on his hole and teases it around his rim, murmuring in Naoya’s ear how badly he wants to fill his pretty hole with his cock, how good he would look with Toji buried deep inside him. Naoya craves those times, starved for the sound of Toji’s voice in his ear, for the whisper of the things he wants to do to Naoya because it means Toji wants him, that it’s real, that however stoic and distant Toji may act during the day, at night he belongs to Naoya.
Toji parts his legs, the anticipation twisting his stomach until he’s sure he might vomit, lungs straining so hard he’s sure he’s going to pass out. He wants Toji so badly it hurts, and it hurts even more as a blunt cockhead presses against his eager hole. He’s soaking wet from Toji’s mouth and like their previous attempts, he breaches the resistance easily at first.
“Shit,” Toji groans, head hanging loose off his shoulders, caging Naoya in with his arms. “Naoya—”
Naoya squeezes his eyes shut, grimacing as Toji tries to rock into him. Despite how wet and ready he is, Toji is still too big, splitting Naoya in half, his organs pushed to the side to make room for Toji's girth. It steals his breath away, his heart beating rabbit quick, choking on the hot tears at the corners of his eyes. All he knows is Toji—beautiful and perfect Toji, his favorite cousin, his Toji, Toji, Toji. On top of him, spearing him impossibly further on his cock, groaning softly for Naoya and no one else as he slides further inside him.
Naoya hiccups when their hips meet, finally, finally, and Toji kisses the salty tears from his lips so sweetly that more roll down the sides of his face. Naoya comes on the first thrust, clinging to his cousin, lips trembling against the soft mouth on his.
If this isn’t love, Naoya doesn’t know what is.
-
The grand piano that sits in the main portion of the house has been a part of the family for years, and every Zen’in is expected to have an appreciation for it.
Naoya’s appreciation comes in the form of getting railed over its lid on a late afternoon, his nails scratching uselessly over the sleek surface as Toji thrusts into him from behind. They’ve grown progressively bolder over the course of a few months; Naoya sneaks off from his private tutor to see Toji, stealing heated kisses during the day that quickly progress into sex anywhere they can get away with. It’s kind of thrilling knowing their family could catch them at any point in time, that they’re doing something no one in the family would ever approve of.
Toji thrusts faster as Naobito’s voice echoes down the hall, and panic stabs Naoya in the chest. His knuckles turn white as he grips the sides of the piano, the fear of getting caught slicing sharp as a knife along the edge of his orgasm. Toji’s fingers dig into his hips as he uses Naoya like a ragdoll, chasing his own pleasure, their skin clapping together far too loudly—they’re going to get caught and Naoya’s face burns, his heart racing as his father’s voice draws closer.
“Hurry up,” he hisses.
“Thought you wanted to get caught,” Toji breathes. “Now you don’t want everyone to know?”
“Not like this!” Naoya squeaks, his grip on the lid slipping, fingers accidentally hitting a cluster of keys. “Shit!”
Naobito’s voice grows louder, practically right outside the room, and Naoya thinks he might just die of shame if he gets caught with his cousin buried balls deep inside him. He bites his cheek when Toji comes, heat splashing against Naoya’s walls, forcing another dribble of cum from the head of his cock at the sudden fullness. Toji’s final thrusts have him going cross eyed, drool sliding from the corner of his mouth, his legs struggling to hold himself upright.
“Sure you don’t want your old man to know you like it up the ass?” Toji breathes right in his ear. “Don’t want him to see how well you take cock, Nao?”
“N-no,” Naoya stammers, his hips quivering. He doesn’t want that at all, but it makes him weak in the knees to think about how utterly humiliating it would be if he did.
When Toji pulls out his knees finally buckle, smashing another handful of piano keys as he collapses in an embarrassed heap on the floor. He doesn’t want to unpack why being humiliated like that makes him feel dizzy and hot all over.
“He’s coming,” Toji reminds him. “I mean, unless you want him to find you with your dick out. He might like it a little too much, though.”
Naoya gives him a scathing look and barely manages to pull his hakama up before his father appears, gaze heavy with disapproval as he looks down at both of them.
“Naoya,” he barks. “Get off your ass, you’re supposed to be in a lesson right now.”
Naoya tries to will the flush from his cheeks, desperately hoping he doesn’t look like he just had sex on the family piano. “Yeah—I’m going, I’m going.”
“The hell are you two doing?”
Naoya scoffs and rolls his eyes, hoping he sounds more annoyed than wrecked. “Does it matter, old man? At least I don’t spend the majority of my day at the bottom of a gourd.”
Toji snorts and Naobito glowers, taking another swig that proves Naoya’s point. He must be in a good mood or too drunk to care, because he disappears with only a mumble about Naoya’s shitty attitude.
As soon as he’s gone Toji whistles under his breath. “Some balls you got, Nao. If I said that, he’d crack me in the face.”
“He won’t hit me,” Naoya shrugs. “He never does.”
“Must be nice.”
“I guess.”
That sobers Toji up, his amusement quickly turning to stony indifference, face carefully blank as he steps around Naoya. “Better get back to your lesson. Wouldn’t want you to miss something important.”
Naoya opens his mouth to protest, to say that the most important thing in his life is right here, the boy he loves more than anything in the world—
But Toji is already gone.
-
He’s bouncing on Toji’s cock when Naoya finally confesses his love. It’s been sitting on the tip of his tongue for some time now, blossoming in his chest, invading his every waking thought for months. Toji is his first crush, his first love, but he’s so much more than that, he’s Naoya’s first everything.
“I love you,” he says breathlessly. “I want you to love me back—”
Toji swallows his words with a kiss and Naoya can’t help but moan, soft lips and teeth biting and nibbling and sucking at Naoya’s mouth until he’s whining and panting. “You’re drooling everywhere,” Toji says, a thick string of saliva connecting their lips as he pulls back. “It’s gross.”
“I can’t—aah—help it,” Naoya whines, digging his nails into Toji’s arms, his legs trembling hard as a shaky orgasm rolls through him. He closes his eyes, their foreheads pressed together, a whispered string of please please please and I love you I love you I love you falling from his lips. He loves Toji so much, can’t he see it? Doesn’t Toji love him too?
“Nao,” Toji says, voice rough. Naoya opens his eyes and Toji looks at him with something close to uncertainty, thin brows furrowed in a way that makes Naoya’s breath catch in his chest. Is this it? Is this the moment Toji finally tells Naoya how he feels? “I...”
A light flicks on down the hall and spills under Toji’s door, both of them freezing and turning to look. Naoya's body still tingles from the aftershocks, the weight of his confession heavy on his tongue. “What was that?” he whispers.
Toji shrugs, turning Naoya’s chin to face him again. “Probably nothing, they’re drunk—”
Ogi rips the door open and Naoya yelps, startled out of Toji’s lap. Toji’s cock slips painfully from his hole and Naoya scrambles to yank his clothes on as his uncle lunges for him, a hand coming straight for his neck. Naoya shrieks, ducking under him and tearing off to his room before Ogi can catch him. Naobito’s light flicks on just as Naoya slams his sliding door shut, his heart hammering hard against his chest.
“Are you fucking Naoya?” Ogi bellows. “You good for nothing, pathetic monkey!”
Naoya doesn’t hear the answer but he hears the stinging slap of Ogi’s hand, and then the sound of his father shouting at Toji too. Naoya covers his ears and leans against the door, whimpering when he hears another loud crack and a soft thump against the tatami. He throws himself onto his futon and cries, trying to block out the terrible sounds and flinching every time he hears another crash. Finally the screaming stops and the house is eerily silent, the quiet seeping in like a rolling fog. Naoya sniffles and changes out of his soiled clothes, shoving the evidence of his night in the bottom of a drawer where he doesn’t have to be reminded of it anymore.
Just when he thought it was over, he hears another sound. It’s much softer, and Naoya presses his ear to the wall to hear it properly. He hears a loud smack, and then another, and another...repetitive, rhythmic, punctuated by labored puffs of breath and heavy grunts that can only mean one thing.
Naoya rips his ear away from the wall, horrified when it dawns on him: he isn’t the only one in the family having sex with Toji.
The knowledge that Toji is Naoya's one and only but Naoya isn't his hurts, but he shouldn't be surprised. Suddenly the little comments Toji has been making for the past year make sense, the ever present distant look in green eyes a sickening revelation. He’s been telling Naoya about it the entire time, and Naoya was just too naive to listen.
Naobito comes to his room later, a dark but triumphant look on his face. “He won't bother you anymore,” he says, drunkenly weaving on his feet.
“He wasn't bothering me,” Naoya says, sitting up and rubbing his puffy eyes. He feels sick, betrayed, and he tries to block out the memory of the disgusting, animalistic sounds made by both his father and uncle over the course of the night.
Naobito scoffs, but doesn't say anything else. He closes Naoya's door and stumbles off, going back down the hall and to his room. Naoya waits with bated breath until he's sure everyone is asleep, quietly running back to Toji's room, pushing the door open a crack. He hears a soft groan, not at all like the ones he makes with Naoya—one of pain, not of pleasure. He slips in and softly slides the door shut, padding over to his cousin's bed. "Toji-kun...?"
Toji lifts his head and Naoya gasps. His eye is black and blue, swollen shut and bleeding, and his cheek and lip are busted open too. He tries to smirk and it only splits his lip further, blood dripping down his chin as he swipes it off with the back of his hand. “Piss off,” he says, voice strained. His head falls back to his pillow and he curls in on himself. “I said get out.”
Naoya ignores that and crawls onto the futon, brushing his fingers lightly over Toji's pretty face, the memory of skin slapping together through the walls ringing painfully in his ears. He cradles his jaw and presses a gentle kiss to bleeding lips. “Does it hurt?”
Toji slaps him away and Naoya tries not to let the disappointment show on his face, withdrawing his hands. “Of course it hurts, dumbass.” More bitterly he adds, “Not like you would know.”
Naoya licks the taste of fire and copper from the corner of his mouth, twisting his hands in his lap. “What did they do to y—”
“Nothing.”
“But I heard—”
Toji’s good eye glares, frigid with warning. “You didn’t hear anything.”
Naoya bites his lip. He heard everything. “They…” he looks away, choking on the lump in his throat. They hurt Toji—they’ve been hurting Toji, his Toji, probably for a long time.
“Get out, Naoya.” He rolls onto his side before Naoya can protest, facing away from him. “I said piss off.”
-
Naoya doesn’t see him for a while after that, dragged into the busy schedule of training as a sorcerer. He often wonders what his older cousin is doing, if he thinks about Naoya as often as Naoya thinks of him. He didn’t say the words back and it hurts to not have a real answer; he loves Toji so much that it pains him, the longing in his chest so great it feels like an actual physical weight. He misses being able to sleep in Toji’s bed, the feel of his soft lips and the warmth of his arms, but when he sneaks into his room after a few days to see him, Toji isn’t there.
Where did he go? Did Naobito move him to a different part of the estate? Did he kick Toji out? Naoya doesn’t know, and he doesn’t try to ask. He knows he wouldn’t tell him even if he did.
Naoya grows restless without Toji around. He was just barely discovering a whole realm of new sensations, and now it’s been ripped out of his hands before he can fully explore it. He wants that feeling again, the rush of heat and adrenaline when Toji makes him come, the hard beating of his heart when Toji wrecks him so hard he can’t feel his legs. Naoya is too inexperienced to know how to do it himself and ends up helplessly grinding into one of his pillows, crying in frustration when he can’t recreate the feeling he gets with Toji. It’s just not the same.
Neither his father nor Ogi speak of what they caught the two of them doing, or of what they did to Toji afterwards. Naoya isn’t sure why Toji is in trouble and he isn’t, but he thinks it has something to do with the way Naobito crows with laughter whenever Ogi passes by, bragging that since his son has inherited one of the family techniques, Ogi will never be head of the clan. Ogi watches with beady eyes as Naoya struggles to use his Projection technique, clapping an angry Naobito on the back when Naoya yelps in fear at trying to exorcise his first curse. Toji was right, they are much scarier than any movie could have possibly prepared him for, and Naobito harshly slaps him afterwards for acting like such a weakling.
It’s the first time his father has ever hit him, and Naoya’s jaw drops. “You can’t hit me!”
Naobito looks down at him and takes a swig from his gourd, his lips glistening with moisture. “I can do whatever I want to you, boy.”
Naoya grinds his teeth, fuming. Before he can think better of it he marches up to his father and slaps the gourd out of his hand, knocking it to the floor. “Piss off!”
Naobito grabs him harshly by the face, and Naoya squeaks. His breath is hot on Naoya’s face, the stink of alcohol making his eyes water. “Did your cousin teach you to talk back like that?”
“No,” Naoya lies. He wrestles out of his father’s grip, folding his arms and stomping his foot. “I haven’t seen Toji in weeks.”
“Good, you don’t need him,” Naobito says. “He’s busy right now, anyway.”
“Busy?” Naoya repeats, his anger snuffed out by his curiosity. “Doing what?”
Naobito smiles, all teeth and vitriol. “If he can’t be a sorcerer or pass on a technique, then he’ll have to learn how to behave the hard way.”
Naoya frowns. “Toji isn’t a sorcerer?”
Naobito chuckles, low and ominous. Naoya doesn’t like the way it sounds. “Heavenly Restriction. The boy is a dud, only good for one thing, I get more uses out of a cursed tool. Can’t even see curses properly, what good is he?” He shakes his head. “He brings shame to the bloodline.”
Naoya recoils, horrified by his words. Toji, a shame to the family?
“It’s alright, he’ll be gone soon enough.”
“What does that mean?” Naoya demands.
Naobito lifts a wiry eyebrow, and Naoya’s cheeks flush. “Dead. It’s what he deserves.”
“Dead?” Naoya cries. “Why?”
Naobito stands and retrieves his gourd, placing it back on the holster on his hip. “No place for a monkey like him here.”
Naoya feels his eyes burn hot with angry tears as his father walks away, leaving him alone in the training hall. For weeks he’s been wondering what happened to Toji, and now he’s not so sure he wants to know after all.
-
Days later Naoya is training again when there’s a commotion outside, several people hurrying past the hall and towards the disciplinary pit. Naoya only needs to see the incensed look on his father’s face as he passes by to know that it has something to do with Toji, and much to his instructor’s chagrin, he abandons his lesson to streak down the hall after them.
“Where is he?” Naoya demands over the hushed conversation between the elder Zen’ins, pushing past his brothers to get to his father. He pounds his fists against Naobito’s side, grunting when he’s batted away as nothing more than a pest and knocked flat on the ground.
“He can’t have actually killed those curses,” Ogi mutters to his father, ignoring Naoya entirely as he scrambles to his feet.
“Where’s Toji!” Naoya shouts, and finally Ogi looks at him.
“In the pit,” he grunts. “He—”
Everyone looks as the door to the pit creaks, the lock shifting from the inside. Naoya feels like his heart might stop, his breath caught in his lungs. The disciplinary pit is full of curses, awful and terrifying things the elder Zen’ins have dragged back to the compound and thrown into the dark void at the bottom of the stairs. If Toji can’t see the curses lurking in the shadows, how could he have possibly survived? Even if he was born into one of the most powerful clans, without cursed energy to defend himself, Naoya knows his chances of survival are slim to none.
The door pushes open and Toji stumbles out, covered in blood and grime, green eyes wild as he looks at the rest of their family. Naoya’s hands fly to his face to cover his gasp, but his feet stay rooted to the ground; Toji’s presence is as void as a black hole, his lack of cursed energy creating a vacuum in front of the doors, the sight of him effectively silencing everyone around them. He spits a mouthful of blood on the ground and steadies himself on his feet, swiping some of the grime from his face with his arm.
“You…” Ogi starts, his shrewd face screwing up in anger. “You should be dead!”
Toji rolls his head on his shoulders, loudly popping a bone in his neck that makes Naoya wince. “Too bad, huh?” he drawls. “Guess that would have worked out better for you.” He takes a step and Ogi stiffens, the entire family staring as Toji slowly walks forward. He stops in front of him and a manic smile turns up his face, green eyes alight with fire as he leans into his uncle’s space. “Should have killed me yourself, coward.”
Ogi sputters as Toji shoulders past him, blood trailing on the ground as he limps through the estate. Naoya is the first one to recover from the shock, barreling past his stunned family and going after his cousin.
“Toji,” he calls, running to catch up with him. “Toji, wait!”
Toji stops. Naoya feels like the air is stolen straight from his lungs when emerald eyes land on him, hardened well beyond Toji’s teenage years. The cold anger that seeps out of him is like a blast of icy wind, nailing Naoya to the spot where he stands—this isn’t the same Toji, his Toji, the boy Naoya is head over heels in love with. This Toji is different, emptier, some physical part forcibly carved out of him and left behind in the pit. His heart drops out of his chest and somewhere into his fluttering stomach as Toji wordlessly turns away, leaving Naoya biting down on his lip until he tastes the copper of Zen’in blood, his hands clamped between his thighs from how quickly it all rushes to his dick.
Toji disappears around a corner and Naoya swallows, eyes flicking down to the red ribbons of their shared blood streaked along the ground. He crouches low and swipes a trembling finger through it, extending his tongue and licking it from his skin. The shiver that rolls through him wracks him so hard that he stumbles to his feet again, hurrying off to his room before anyone sees.
Naoya kicks off his clothes and falls into his bed, grabbing his pillow and mindlessly rutting into it. He can still taste Toji on his tongue, still see that flash of green if he squeezes his eyes shut hard enough. He wants to come, it’s been building for weeks and he’s never managed to get there by himself, but now he imagines Toji’s tongue in his mouth and his bloodied hands on his hips, those hard eyes focused on him as Naoya whimpers his cousin’s name. He comes all over the pillow, covering his mouth with his hand to hold in his pitiful moan as he shakes and shudders through it all alone.
-
Things are different after that. Toji has always kept to himself but now the clan avoids him, and for good reason; he lashes out whenever anyone comes too close, some inner switch flipped when anyone tries to approach him. He was never exactly friendly, but he was never volatile before, either. Even Naoya isn’t spared from his hostility; the first time he tries to touch Toji after his return from the pit, the older boy nearly breaks his wrist.
“Let go!” Naoya gasps, trying to tug out of Toji’s grip. “It hurts!”
“Don’t fucking touch me, then,” Toji says, dropping Naoya on his back like a helpless insect.
Naoya rubs his wrist, lips puckered in a pout. “I just wanna hang out with you.”
Toji laughs—empty, hollow. “Yeah, well I don’t want to hang out with you.”
“Why are you being mean?” Naoya whines. “You never hang out with me anymore! Ever since you got back you’ve been avoiding me!”
Toji shrugs. “Maybe you’re just not worth my time.”
His words sting Naoya hard, a sucker punch right to the gut, tearing at his heartstrings until Naoya feels them nearly snap. “I hate you,” he says bitterly, spitting out the most hurtful thing he can think of.
“No, you don’t.” Toji presses his foot against Naoya’s cheek and smashes his face into the floor with an oof, black hair hanging forward as he leans over him. “I hear the staff talk about the messes you leave for them, you filthy slut. Who do you think cleans that shit up, huh?”
“What!” Naoya hisses, scandalized. His cheeks burn with humiliation; the staff are ceaseless gossips and if it’s true, then everyone in the family has to know by now. So much for their relationship staying a secret. Toji grinds his foot down harder and Naoya kicks at him, grabbing Toji’s ankle and unsuccessfully trying to shove him away. “Get off!”
Toji slips his hands into his pockets, leering over him. “Maybe I would, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Naoya growls. His entire being aches for something that slipped through his fingers that night; he wants that back, wants Toji back, and he doesn’t care what he has to do to get it. “What, and you don't?” he taunts breathlessly, grasping at straws.
Toji lifts his foot and for a single triumphant moment, Naoya thinks he has him.
That is, until Toji kicks him in the gut instead.
Naoya rolls over, gagging and retching, clutching at his stomach as Toji walks away. He coughs and sputters, Toji’s rejection rising like bile in the back of his throat. His eyes and heart sting, tears of shame and anger blurring his vision. He punches the floor and lets out a strangled cry, unable to accept that Toji doesn’t love him, doesn’t even want to fuck him anymore.
He pushes himself to his feet and slinks to his room to lick his wounds, a dog forsaken by its master. His entire torso hurts, throbbing with pain where Toji kicked him, though his heart is what hurts most of all. Why did Toji teach him all those things, just to toss him to the side? Why did he ever kiss Naoya so sweetly, hold his hand and sleep beside him if he’s just going to throw it all away?
It doesn’t make any sense.
Naoya lifts his shirt in the mirror, tracing his fingers over the bruise forming on his otherwise unmarred skin. It's already turning a sickly violet, stretching up his stomach and over his chest, blossoming outward like a flower reaching towards the sun. Vaguely he remembers their last kiss in the garden, when his heart had beat for Toji and he foolishly thought that Toji had felt the same.
But he did feel the same, Naoya is sure of it. Something changed over those few weeks Toji was locked in the pit, some vital part of him left to rot while Naoya was left alone to wonder what happened to him. He knows Toji isn’t the same, but is he really that different? Does he really not love Naoya anymore?
Did he ever love Naoya at all?
-
Naoya wakes to a horrible cough in the middle of the night, an awful hacking that has him clawing at his own throat and his eyes watering uncontrollably. It feels like he can’t breathe, like something is caught in his lungs and is trying to crawl its way out of his mouth. His throat burns when something finally comes up and he spits into his hand, his shoulders shaking from the effort of dispelling the little wet clump. He looks at it strangely; it’s yellow, soft, almost like a flower petal.
It is a flower petal.
Naoya throws it away, wiping his hand off in disgust. That was weird.
