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“The one you got was, what, a few hundred drachma? Whoever it is, he can’t be that good. You know that Lydian girl last week took over a thousand. Although,” Youichi said, grinning through teeth Kazuya had to assure himself weren’t pointed, “I would’ve paid double.”
Kazuya snorted, not even bother to look his friend as he shuffled through the stack of parchment in front of him. “As if you could afford that.”
Youichi made a noise of protest, but he didn’t bother to disagree. He wasn’t half as prosperous as Kazuya, but then, few people were. “Poor guy’s got another thing coming to him.”
“Hm?”
“He’s probably expecting some old patriarch from one of the big families. Instead he’s got--” Yoichi looked Kazuya up and down once. “Well... you."
Kazuya looked up this time, resting his papers on the table. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re an upstart,” Youichi said. “A foreigner, a trickster, and, if I’m not mistaken, the biggest asshole in Athens.”
“An honor I’ll accept if and when it’s bestowed on me. Until then,” Kazuya rolled his eyes and went back to his accounts. “I’d hold off on saying things like that. Narumiya might get jealous.”
Youichi let out a sharp bark of laughter just as a servant entered, a decanter of wine in her hands and a figure trailing behind her.
“Sorry, sir,” the servant girl said. “I asked him to wait for your summons but...” she trailed off hopelessly. Ducking her head in deference, she half-revealed the human thunderstorm lurking behind her, and Kazuya had to keep in a laugh.
Apparently unable to tolerate another second in the shadows, the boy leapt in front of the servant and made an overdramatic bow, his brown hair flopping down in front of him.
“Sawamura Eijun, trained in Scythia and honored to be entering your service! I’ll do my very best to keep your attention and make your investment worth every obul! I hope to leave you very satisfied!”
Youichi was snickering, but Kazuya was more controlled in his actions. He very slowly placed his papers on the table in front of him and took a grape. He bit into it, considering the boy in front of him. He looked essentially the same as he had in the agora, the marketplace where transactions-- more or less reputable, like this one-- took place.
In fact, Kazuya thought, taking in the boy’s somewhat rumpled appearance. He looked almost the exact same as he had before. Had he come here straight from the agora?
Kazuya had known from the beginning that he was getting a greenhorn, but this was something else.
Oh, this would be fun.
The seconds drew out into a minute, then two, as Miyuki nibbled at the foods laid out on the table.
Youichi cast a confused glance between Eijun and Kazuya, but he was used to this sort of thing by now. Anyone who spent enough time around Kazuya was-- Youichi’s description had been right on the mark and Kazuya knew it.
He ate another grape.
“Would you like some, Youichi?” Kazuya picked up a plate bearing dried fruits and offered it. Realizing what he was doing, Youichi let out another one of those barks of his.
“Don’t mind if I do, Kazuya.”
“Say, Youichi, how did your trial go? I heard that the defendant spoke for an hour longer than you and still managed to lose the case.”
“What can I say?” Youichi shrugged in a way that came across as not-at-all-modest. “If you can do it fast, why bother taking a long time?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Kazuya mused, his eyes drifting over to where Eijun stood still bowed, his position unchanged. “I think that drawing things out can be fun sometimes.
Eijun’s eyes flicked up.
“That’s because you’re a masochist,” Youichi replied.
Kazuya tilted his head to the side and met Eijun’s eyes as he replied. “Not a masochist,” he said. “A sadist, if anything. And besides,” Miyui continued, signaling at the servant girl to bring another cup after she’d finished refilling his and Youichi’s. “It’s more about discomfort. I rarely pass the line into pain.”
“Really? Because you’re pretty much always a pain in the ass.”
Eijun snickered. Realizing what he’d done, Eijun clamped his hands to his mouth. And when he realized that what he’d done to cover up his breach of etiquette was an even bigger breach of etiquette, he slammed his arms back to his sides and dipped even lower into his bow.
Youichi and Kazuya went on like this for some time, making quiet chit-chat and pointedly ignoring the boy still standing by the door.
Finally, Youichi stood. “I’ve got to run if I’m going to make this meeting. This guy makes me want to throw a discus at his head, but he pays well for his speeches. It’s the third time this year he’s in court you know--” he glanced out the door. “And I am beyond late.” He started towards the door. As he passed Eijun, he patted him once, reassuring, on the back. “Give him hell,” Youichi advised.
Eijun looked up.
Kazuya couldn’t see the boy’s face now, but he could see Youchi’s. A flurry of emotions flashed by. First was surprise, then confusion, then a flurry of what might have been attraction, amusement, and a twinge of awe-- but they were in such quick succession at that point that Miyuki couldn’t distinguish between them.
“I’ll do my best,” Eijun said, and gods, there it was.
Kazuya knew it would do no good to explain why he had bought Eijun in the agora today. He hadn’t even really been looking for a companion-- he’d just been wandering around, trying to figure out what he was going as the theme for his next speech, when a blur of motion had caught his eye. It was Eijun, struggling to be allowed onto the same stage as the other Hetaira, the companion-status prostitutes.
There’d been something in his voice that caught Kazuya, made him linger for longer than a momentary distraction might allow. He could hear it now. It was fire, rough and raw.
The boy was green, but Kazuya was sure that he could’ve gone for three times, no, four times as much as he had if he’d been better prepared. If someone had brushed that brown hair out of his face and let those eyes shine through, liquid as the wax from Icarus’s wings and bronze as Daedelus’s labyrinth, he would’ve been the best of them all.
Wax scalded, he had reminded himself. And Daedelus’s inventions were the reason that he’d been locked up in the first place. But those were not his stories, not his gods, and hubris meant nothing to him.
Youichi hurried out, broken from the spell of Eijun after a few loaded moments. Kazuya watched him depart with raised eyebrows. Soon after his friend had crossed the threshold, though, Kazuya’s eyes slid to Eijun. “Who told you to bow for me?”
It wasn’t, after all, the customary greeting here in Athens. Bowing was something from home, from far, far away. It was rare to come across someone who know his customs, let alone bothered to go through with them.
“No one,” Eijun replied haltingly. “Was it wrong? I assumed from your appearance--”
Kazuya was tempted to let the boy continue, but decided against it. “You were right.”
The tension slid from Eijun’s shoulders.
“But I’m still curious how you know to do it.”
“It’s just,” Eijun trailed. “Natural, I suppose. It felt like the right thing to do. I mean, back home it was just how I was taught to greet those above me and I...” he shrugged.
“You’ve got good instincts.” Kazuya leaned back in his chair. “And I had my suspicions about your name myself. You’re not from Scythia, are you?”
Mutely, Eijun shook his head.
“Interesting.” Kazuya leaned back in his seat, folding his hands across his lap. “Well, come on, then.”
Eijun’s eyebrows furrowed and he took a hesitant step forwards. “What?” He said, then his face scrunched and he corrected himself-- “Sir?”
“There’s a reason you’re here,” Kazuya reminded him. “And I’d like to see where you stand. A demonstration, if you will.”
Straightening up, Eijun’s face lit with understanding. He had an honest face, Kazuya thought, something you didn’t much see in his line of work-- really, in either of theirs. Every thought, every confusion and concern that crossed those eyes was written as clearly as the accounts he had been trying so futilely to deal with.
So when Eijun’s brow creased, when he looked away, Kazuya knew in a second that something was wrong.
Kazuya waited for Eijun to say whatever was on his mind-- that, or get over it. It wasn’t that Kazuya was impatient. In fact, he was hardly in the mood for anything beyond business right now. But he wanted to gauge where Eijun stood, so to speak, to get an idea of the boy who would be sharing his home and his bed.
“What would you like me to do?” Eijun asked, coming to a stop right in front of where Kazuya was seated.
“Show me what I bought you for,” Kazuya replied easily. “Impress me.”
“I--” Eijun started. He had a habit of not finishing his sentences. Kazuya tilted his head to the side. Eijun nodded once, firmly. “Yes.”
Kazuya didn’t know what he had expected. Maybe for Eijun to strip down then and there, reveal the toned body that his arms and legs seemed to suggest. Maybe he expected a coy smile, or a drop to his knees-- Kazuya could’ve expected a lot of things, but this-- this was not one of them.
Something had come over Eijun, a surprisingly opaque shadow over his eyes that led Kazuya to expect far more than seemed to be coming. That was not the look you gave someone as you stepped back from them; it was the kind that promised pressed bodies, swollen lips, wine red whispers, and all of it in less than a blink.
But Eijun was moving back, closer to the door now than to Kazuya himself.
With a quick exhale, Eijun spun on his heel and dropped the pins holding his peplos, the short pinned tunic that most young men wore, on his shoulders. It fell to his waist, and Kazuya took a moment to admire the clean lines of Eijun’s back. Lean and soft, but strong, Kazuya could tell. The kind of boy that sculptors loved.
Turning away before he stripped-- could it be some sort of shyness that he’d failed to indicate at the sale? It was rare to see this kind of thing among prostitutes, especially Hetaira, but Eijun was hardly the most polished stone in the quarry.
“False modesty won’t win you any points,” Kazuya drawled. “If you’re going to get naked, you might as well do without the fuss.”
Eijun’s shoulders tensed, but he gave no response. Instead, he started to-- Kazuya had never seen anything like it, but he supposed that he’d call it dancing.
The boy moved to the beat of some self-contained music. Kazuya couldn’t hear it, but part of him felt it as Eijun moved, the slow drag of strings under a percussive volley of quick turns and flicked wrists.
Eijun raised his hands high above his head and slid them down his sides, goosebumps raising at the touch. His back flexed with each movement, and his hips-- to say that they were undulating would be a capital understatement. The way they slipped from side to side, graceful as a hawk in the sky, made Kazuya’s heart beat fast as the rabbit below.
Eijun’s body slid after his hips almost as an afterthought, but Kazuya could tell that there was nothing left to chance in this strange, snakelike dance. The sheer control it must take, he thought, and then thought nothing at all as Eijun swept out a leg and turned to face him.
Surely he had that look in his eyes again. Unfortunately, Kazuya’s gaze wasn’t anywhere near the vicinity of Eijun’s face as the boy’s arms came out in front of him, like he was bracing the world against the slow, rolling languor of his body, and pulled his back into an arch of pure sex.
He paused. Kazuya bit his lip, swallowed. Wanted. And Eijun rolled his wrists once, threw back his head, and the real dance began.
Eijun took off with two feet, and from then on, it was hard to tell how many he had; it seemed he had no need of anything as mundane as hands and feet as he danced, a whirl of white cloth and wicked grin. He made the human body look like water as he shimmied his way through a piece of floorwork that bent his body at impossible angles, fluid and sure and more than Kazuya had ever imagined this boy to be.
Eijun was a siren, Kazuya thought as the boy leapt up again and vaulted backwards into a handspring. And he went up again, lifting one leg higher, higher, giving Kazuya a view as good as he ever hoped to get, and springing lightly again to his feet. And then he realized that Eijun could never be a siren, for all his whims. This boy was nothing but fire.
The dance seemed to have no end. Who had Kazuya been before Eijun had turned himself to the flicker of a flame and turned Kazuya’s willpower to ashes-- before he had grinned and turned Kazuya himself into nothing more than a heartbeat and hungry eyes? With every pulse of Eijun’s body, Kazuya felt himself disappear.
Finally-- too soon, Kazuya found himself thinking-- Eijun’s body slowed and he slid down into one last split, his muscles flexed and his chest heaving.
Kazuya searched for words. Eijun had done enough to fill the space between them-- surely Kazuya could put forth a few words, whatever meager offering he could make. He was leaving obuls at a temple, pebbles instead of diamonds.
He had to remind himself that he was the one who held the power in this situation. He was the older one-- though only by three or four years, by his guess-- the one with the money, with the influence. The way that Eijun held his chin, lifted in an act of defiant pride, it was easy to forget.
“That was something,” Kazuya said, managing to keep his voice even.
Eijun raised himself to standing again. He wiped a bead of sweat from his face and grinned wide. “Are you impressed?”
“Are you cocky?” Kazuya shot back. He couldn’t help it; he couldn’t be the only one off balance. Seeing the freeze of Eijun’s face, Kazuya amended his statement. “The answer to both is yes. You’re very good.”
Eijun’s smile lit with the praise. “Scythian belly dancing. I thought you might like it.”
“I did.”
Kazuya reclined, watching Eijun become more and more uncomfortable with every dead second that passed between them. He felt the power returning to him, pooling in his hands where it belonged.
He pursed his lips, considering.
“You’re sweaty,” Kazuya commented.
Squinting, Eijun tried to surreptitiously wipe his off stomach.
“But that’s to be expected,” Kazuya said. “The dirt, though. That’s not. Did you bother
bathing before you came?” He knew his gaze was cutting, critical. Probably too much so, but that was Kazuya. It wouldn’t do for Eijun to notice that Kazuya’s feet had gone out from under him. Much better to make Eijun think that he was falling himself.
“I didn’t think about that,” Eijun admitted.
“I see that. A shame, too,” Kazuya remarked, eyes raking over Eijun’s torso. “I would’ve liked to look at some of your other skills, but certainly not before you’ve had a chance to wash off the dirt from the road.”
Eijun started. “How did you know that I just got here?”
“Information is power, Eijun, and that’s what I deal in. You either know or notice, and in this case you’ve hardly made an effort to keep it a secret.”
Eijun pursed his lips. “I didn’t think that I had to.”
“I have a feeling forethought’s not your strong suit.”
“I guess.” A wide, sudden grin spread across Eijun’s face. “But that’s why Athens has people like you, right? I can tell that you’re clever already. Clever, intelligent, and, uh--” He struggled to come up with a word. “Smart. Very, very smart. I like your wittiness.”
Kazuya snorted. “I don’t know what they taught you, but I don’t want you to fawn. All I ask is that you stay honest, available, and interesting.”
Eijun nodded, taking the words to heart. “I can promise the first two. The third is more a matter of opinion.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that one.”
Kazuya took a drought from his wine and gestured for Sawamura to take a seat.
“You’ve heard my rules,” Kazuya said. “Now let me hear yours.”
“My...rules?” Eijun asked, eyebrows drawing together. “I don’t really have any, though I suppose I could think about them. I mean, as long as things are pretty safe and you’re satisfied, it’s all fine.”
“If you do think of any, don’t hesitate to find me. Not a servant, me.” Kazuya offered the extra cup that he’d had the serving girl bring. “Any questions?”
Eijun eyed the drink suspiciously but eventually managed to sip at it. When he concluded that it probably wasn’t either poisoned or drugged, he took a long drink.
Kazuya wondered how long he’d been on the road-- really, it had been more of guess than the assertion Eijun read it as.
“What’s your name?” Eijun asked.
“My name? My--” Kazuya stopped, realizing. “No one’s bothered to tell you my name. Gods, you put on that whole show for me-- were probably ready to do quite a bit more-- and no one’s bothered to tell you my name.” His laughter got an unimpressed look from his Hetaira.
“You’re a little sick.”
Kazuya’s eyebrow twitched.
“Most people prefer to call me Kazuya,” he said.
Eijun nodded. “And you’re a businessman?”
“Of a sort. I dabble.”
Eijun nodded again. “Okay.”
Kazuya watched as Eijun pinned his peplos up again and drained his cup. The wine, though watered, gave a pinkish tinge to his lips that Kazuya couldn’t help but admire.
“Okay?” Kazuya probed. “You’re not curious?”
Eijun shrugged. “I’ll find out eventually. You seem like the kind of person who doesn’t like giving things away until you know someone, and you don’t know me yet, right? So it makes sense that I’d have to wait anyway.”
Kazuya had to give him points there. There was something exploratory about this whole situation; Eijun was trying to figure out Kazuya as much as the opposite.
“So, would you like me to go on?” Eijun asked
“With the dance? I think I’ve seen enough of that for today. I like to keep things fresh.” Kazuya said. That was a lie. He could’ve watched Eijun dance until the oceans dried.
“I know other ones too-- I’ve been all over, so I’ve picked them up and I could show you a few if you wanted. Or,” Eijun said. “I could go find my room, or maybe take a tour around the city. I’ve heard the port at Piraeus is pretty cool and I’d love to--”
“What would you like to do?” Kazuya prompted. “I’m impartial.”
Eijun rocked back on his heels. “You know, you’re not exactly the kind of person I expected.”
“I could say the same.”
“No, but,” Eijun shook his head. “I don’t know how to-- how to deal with you. How to make you happy, or enthusiastic, or any of the things that I’ve been trained to do.”
“Are you saying that you can’t satisfy me?” Kazuya asked innocently, trying to keep the laugh out of his voice. The honest perplexity on Eijun’s face was well worth the prodding. “That’s a shame.”
Eijun ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “See, you’re supposed to be falling all over yourself trying to get me to do things, but you don’t even seem to care. How am I supposed to satisfy you when you won’t tell me what you want? The dance was supposed to get past that-- and then you’d...” Eijun trailed off again, his face flushing. “You’d tell me what you wanted.”
“I assume the answer’s supposed to be you?”
“Well,” Eijun said. “Yeah.”
Kazuya stood suddenly, and alarm played over Eijun’s face. “I can tell you what I want, if that makes things easier.” Though he was only a little taller than Eijun, Kazuya found himself looking down to make eye contact. Neither of them looked their best, Eijun, smudged with the dust of travel and Kazuya with the sweat and exhaustion of everyday life. Still, Eijun’s eyes gleamed and his smile reached to dare Kazuya’s wider. “But I have to wonder-- can you keep up? Can you let me make the calls? Can you let go?”
Eijun stood, jaw strong and eyes ablaze, and Kazuya knew the answer before he said it.
“If you lead, I will follow.”
And Kazuya couldn’t hold himself back. He surged forwards, taking Eijun’s face in his hands and bringing their mouths together in an approximation of a kiss; it was too much, too rough, too vital, but it was what he needed. Their bodies pressed together in corded lines, curve met hollow and hard edges met soft hands. Kazuya could feel Eijun’s pulse beat rapid and the thought would’ve brought a smile to his lips were they not otherwise engaged.
The kiss smoothed out into a sigh of its violence, taking a turn for the softer. Kazuya did not attack; he coaxed, his hands dipping along Eijun’s sides and eliciting a shudder from the boy. Eijun let out a quiet keen as Kazuya’s lips moved downwards, pressing a stream of kisses from the corner of his mouth to the hollow of his throat, claiming each inch of flesh.
Eijun’s skin was hot to the touch, burning under Kazuya’s hands. Judging by the reactions of his body, Eijun was enjoying this, but his hands stayed still by his sides.
“What’s the matter?” Kazuya murmured against Eijun’s neck. He cast a sly look upwards. “Shy?”
Eijun swallowed, shaking his head. “I just--” he broke off as Kazuya’s hands slid across his chest. “Some people don’t want--ah, they wouldn’t want me to touch them and--”
Notice, Eijun. ” Kazuya cupped Eijun’s face in his hands and shut him up. Eijun had asked him to lead; well, he had. Now it was just to be seen if Eijun would follow.
And he had to give the boy credit; initial hesitance aside, Eijun didn’t back down. His hands were springs, tied down but now jumping to action with obvious relish.
Hands on cloth, hands on skin, hands everywhere that they could be except for where Kazuya increasingly wanted them; it was clear that Eijun wouldn’t delve any further that Kazuya cued him. On some level, Kazuya liked the control; on another, he needed Eijun to feel comfortable, to know how badly Kazuya wanted him, to even, outside of the confines of bought and sold, want Kazuya in return.
But maybe he was getting ahead of himself.
Kazuya backed into his chair and Eijun trailed after, settling on his lap in a straddle.
“How far?” Eijun asked breathily, hands already scrabbling to unpin Kazuya’s clothes.
Kazuya grabbed Eijun’s hips and held them down as he ground up. The friction was only the barest relief, but Eijun’s pulse jumped and his eyes went wide.
Kazuya made to strip them both, but Eijun stopped him. Hands smoothing down the front of Kazuya’s tunic, Eijun leaned forwards until their noses touched. “I want to try something,” Eijun said. “Please?”
And how could Kazuya say no to that?
Eijun inhaled sharply, the same as he had before he’d started dancing. He closed his eyes, and though Kazuya missed their intensity, he noticed now how very handsome Eijun could be when his face wasn’t scrunched up. Dust or no, he looked good like this, gentle curls just brushing his cheekbones and lips pursed with concentration, skin smooth and hands kind.
Nevertheless, sweet as that was, Kazuya was forced to reconsider the image entirely as Eijun braced his hands on Kazuya’s shoulders and rolled his body down, biting his lip to keep in his groan. Eijun circled his hips from side to side deliciously, and Kazuya watched in awe as Eijun reenacted his dance straight into Kazuya’s lap.
Kazuya moaned out a curse and moved to kiss Eijun’s neck again-- because when he threw back his head like that, what did he expect? But Eijun took Kazuya’s hands and placed them firmly on his hips.
So much for following, Kazuya thought, but the thought came with a grin.
Kazuya leaned back and let Eijun take what he wanted, in dragging fingernails and harsh breaths, bare skin and soft lips, in whatever Eijun wanted and exactly what Kazuya needed. Eijun’s panted ‘ yes’, settled in the space between them and Kazuya felt himself fall a little more off the edge.
Why were they still wearing clothes? Kazuya felt Eijun’s body above him, and could see as much as feel his obvious interest. But the boy looked as if he could do this for hours, drag this out into a thousand teasing touches that would drive Kazuya absolutely mad.
Two could play at that.
“Eijun,” Kazuya breathed. “Look up.”
Having successfully distrated Eijun, Kazuya snapped to it, making short work of Eijun’s clothing and casting it to the floor. At another time, he would’ve taken a step back just to appreciate the work before him, but not any more. The feeling in his gut was too urgent for that now.
Kazuya reached and took Eijun’s cock in his hand, delighting in the way Eijun’s eyes fluttered as he did.
With smooth, purposeful movements, Kazuya repaid every bit of attention that Eijun had shown him. And for good measure, he paid each kiss as a stroke and each touch as a twisted wrist, a thumb over the slit and a pace change for every teasing gesture. And he’d made quite a couple.
Eijun gasped, his voice stringing out into a series of sharp breaths and stutters as Kazuya worked him over. Kazuya’s own cock strained against the fabric of his tunic but he ignored it. They had plenty of time. And besides, stopping would mean losing the look on Eijun’s face, the blush on his cheeks, the heave of his chest-- and that would be unforgivable.
The muscles on Eijun’s stomach clenched as Kazuya worked his hand faster. Eijun leaned into the movement with a keen, arching his back around Kazuya’s hand, creating a cavern for the space between them.
And just as Eijun neared that precipice, Kazuya’s hand slowed to just brushing Eijun, each movement slow and flirtatious. Eijun looked up with wild eyes, eyebrows drawn together in a line of need-- it almost broke Kazuya’s heart.
Almost.
“Do you want me to finish?” Kazuya asked, voice low. In time, Eijun might learn to recognize that voice, the danger, the satisfaction that lurked within it. “Or maybe I can draw this out,” he said. “I could do this for hours, you know, until you’re so sensitive that it almost hurts, but you’re so desperate that you want it anyways.” Eijun looked up with dark eyes, pupils blown wide. “I could bring you right to the edge and stop you from coming just as you’re about to go over--” he sped up his hand, “and you’d beg, wouldn’t you? I wouldn’t even have to tell you to. You’d be so needy, so good for me--”
And Eijun let out a high groan, a keen that said everything. Kazuya’s smile was wolfish.
"Yes,” Kazuya hissed. “So good. You wouldn’t try to hold in those noises of yours because you know it wouldn’t be any good, that I’d get them out of you anyway, and you’re so eager to please. You do such a good job, make me want you so bad. ” Kazuya tilted his head to lay a line of kisses along Eijun’s jawline. “Gods, Eijun, I’m so lucky, so lucky to have found you, so lucky to have you like this, all pretty and desperate for my hand, my mouth,” he let out a shaking breath. His hand came to a stop. “You want to know what you can do for me?”
Eijun met Kazuya’s gaze, eyes glazed, and breath coming in open mouthed pants.
“You can get on your knees,” Kazuya said. “And earn it.”
Eijun scrambled off of Kazuya’s lap, and in a second he was on the floor between Kazuya’s legs, looking up through dark eyelashes and grinning. Kazuya wanted to take his time, but each second he drew this out was just a bit more uncomfortable than the one before.
Kazuya got rid of his clothes and took himself in hand. A few perfunctory strokes later and Eijun’s mouth replaced his hands. Just a few kisses at first, and then licks, and then Eijun’s mouth, hot and soft and pliant, was wrapped around his cock and Kazuya couldn’t breathe.
He hissed out an affirmative and threaded his hands through Eijun’s hair. Eijun was a sight to see, the stretch of his lips practiced but sinfully sexual as he took Kazuya’s cock, further than Kazuya had ever had before.
Eijun was quiet like this, Kazuya reflected, but he had plenty of ways of making himself known. Quiet groans, humming around Kazuya’s cock, the grip of his hands on Kazuya’s thighs-- Eijun had presence no matter what.
“You look so good like this,” Kazuya remarked. He’d noticed, that Eijun reacted eagerly to notes of praise, and that was a song Kazuya was more than happy to sing. “You feel so good like this. I wonder how far you could take me down-- you’d take as much as I gave you, wouldn’t you?” Kazuya’s hand slipped down to caress Eijun’s face, to feel the taut muscles of his jaw. “Even if you were choking, you’d keep trying and trying until you could take me down all the way. You’d choose pleasure over air.”
Eijun’s eyes watered but his cock was rigid against his stomach, precome smearing obscenely as he reached to touch himself.
“Does that feel good?” Kazuya asked, eyes wandering down to Eijun’s hands. “Do they feel like mine, or are they softer, younger? You know everything that you like, where to pull and when it’s too much, but it’s not the same.” Eijun pumped faster, bobbing his head in time with his fist. “We all want someone else’s hand, someone else’s tongue, more than we want our own because we know what we’re going to do, and it’s the mystery that’s scintillating. It’s losing power-- ah,” Kazuya’s voice broke as Eijun took Kazuya deeper. “Fuck, that’s good. You’re amazing, Eijun, so hot, so wet, so ready, want to--” he broke off again.
“I’m close,” Kazuya breathed, and Eijun redoubled his efforts. In a herculean feat, Kazuya tugged gently on Eijun’s hair, signalling that he should stand again. “Together,” he said.
Eijun nodded, his fierce grin something softer now, something confidential. He tipped his forehead against Kazuya’s as he settled back into his lap and met him in a kiss.
Kazuya took both of their cocks in his hand and started an easy pace. This felt intimate, more so than anything they’d done; the press of skin on skin, Kazuya on Eijun-- it felt more than intimate; it felt natural. He would’ve sworn that they’d done this a thousand times.
His hand sped, breath stuttering as he neared the edge. Eijun was in a similar state, his skin flushed. “Is this good?” Kazuya asked, and it was a sign of how far he was gone that he didn’t care how unsure he sounded.
Eijun whimpered his response, a ‘yes yes yesss’ lost in the haze and Kazuya sped again, trying to resist thrusting into his own fist as he tried to bring them to the edge. Kazuya leaned in and tangled their tongues as the pressure in his gut built, pushing until every touch sent a ricocheting shot of pleasure through his body. Kazuya felt himself losing the thought of doing anything but the now of release, and when Eijun’s hand laid over his, that was it.
The orgasm rippled through him in hot waves, fuller and sweeter than anything he’d had for a long, long time.
Kazuya was broken out of his reverie by Eijun’s moan; he was finishing himself off without Kazuya, and that was just unacceptable. Kazuya dove forward to take Eijun’s cock into his mouth. Eijun’s hips stuttered as Kazuya hollowed his cheeks. He was no Hetaira, couldn’t take the whole thing, but his hands worked what his mouth could not. In no time at all, Eijun was coming with a sigh, and Kazuya sitting back up, wiping his mouth and his hair out of his eyes.
“Well, wasn’t that nice?” Kazuya said.
Eijun blinked slowly, still coming down from the inevitable high. In a few moments, he turned to look around the room as if gauging his options. Kazuya frowned at his reticence, but looked around for something to clean himself up.
“Are you satisfied?” Eijun asked, self-sure smile dancing on his lips, so different from the formality of his introduction, and Kazuya just laughed. Eijun reached for his wine cup to find it empty.
“If you want more of that, you’ll have to find Andromeda,” Kazuya said. The serving girl from earlier was long gone by now.
The sound of footsteps gave short warning for Andromeda’s entrance. “I heard my name, sir?” She said, and both Kazuya and Eijun scrambled to clothe themselves, and came out of it with mixed results. Eijun somehow managed to shrug on his peplos, albeit backwards and clumsily; Kazuya made do with a cloth napkin from the table.
Andromeda’s face froze when she entered, but it was a credit to her character that her service smile did not so much as chip. “Is there something you need, sir?” But her voice was strained.
To his surprise, Eijun was the one who came to the rescue. “Could you show me the baths?” He asked. “And maybe Kazuya as well? He looks like he could use some cleaning up.”
Kazuya sputtered a retort, but it was clear whose side Andromeda was on. And seeing Eijun smile like that at ease and almost at home, was well worth a little embarrassment.
Also, Kazuya thought with a grin, he’d have plenty of chances to get him back.