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Mitsunari knows his duties to the letter. He is to help Lord Hideyoshi from his armor, bring him sake and fresh water and leave, inconspicuous, that he and Lord Hanbei might confer in the privacy of his chambers. Even this much is an honor, of which he is thrillingly aware each time he is admitted to his lord’s presence. He would never willingly deviate from it. And even something so small as a spill of sake in the outer chamber is an error he can scarcely bear to tolerate.
“How very clumsy of me,” says Lord Hanbei, though it could hardly be his fault when it was Mitsunari, in his foolishness, who failed to notice his approach. Not a drop has touched him, of course, and still he smiles warmly at Mitsunari as he continues past the shoji into Lord Hideyoshi’s private room. “Do stay and clean that up, now.”
“My humblest apologies!” Mitsunari bows until his forehead brushes the ground, doesn’t move until he hears their muffled voices from the room beyond. Even their presence is a comfort. He’s constantly reminded of his place by their side, held by the low hum of their voices. So he completes his task with warm gratitude, quick and quiet so as not to disturb them.
He’s just gathering up the soiled rags to take his leave when he hears Lord Hanbei’s voice rise above the quiet murmurs. “Let me be of service to you, Hideyoshi.”
Mitsunari freezes. Lord Hanbei always seeks to serve, of course, as any man of half his wisdom would be glad to for Lord Hideyoshi’s sake. But he speaks the words like a prayer, the longing in his voice rushing through Mitsunari down to his fingertips, and all of a sudden his chest is pounding with longing of his own for even a taste of what could affect Lord Hanbei so.
He hears the slithering of fabric before Lord Hideyoshi murmurs his reply; soft sounds of motion - and then Lord Hanbei moans, half under his breath but a wilder, more indulgent sound than Mitsunari has ever heard from him. Not in his wildest fantasies should he be privy to such a thing. But instead he’s creeping towards the shoji until he hears their voices clearly, his duties forgotten in sheer desperate fascination.
“I want to taste you first,” Lord Hanbei murmurs. “I’ve wanted to all day, Hideyoshi.” It’s skin on skin he hears now, and through the tiny crack Lord Hanbei has left in the shoji all he can see is the lavender of his robe, tossed aside and forgotten. That he even thinks of crawling closer makes him sick with the magnitude of his sin. It’s not enough to stop the pounding in his veins, or the insistent ache growing deep in his loins at the inviting note of his lord’s voice.
“You know I welcome your efforts,” says Lord Hideyoshi, and then, simply, “Hanbei.” The sound of breath, heavy and slow, for a long tense minute - and then Lord Hideyoshi moans, so deep and strong Mitsunari imagines he feels it in the floorboards digging into his knees. He presses his face to the opening without a thought, even his own trespass forgotten next to the thought of his lord’s pleasure.
Lord Hanbei lies curled between Lord Hideyoshi’s legs, his body nearly smothered by the massive thighs and his rouged lips spread around the head of Lord Hideyoshi’s cock. It’s as mighty as the rest of him, and Lord Hanbei’s lips must be stretched painfully wide just to accommodate it, but despite Lord Hideyoshi’s fingers buried in his hair it’s he who bends his head to take it further, his own moans of need muffled in Lord Hideyoshi’s flesh.
It’s too much for any man to take. Lord Hanbei must be as skilled at this as he is at any of his duties, and still he chokes as Lord Hideyoshi’s hips buck forward. It doesn’t stop him for more than a moment; his hands come up at once to see to what his lips can’t reach, and he allows himself only the time for one gasping breath before bending his head once more, his throat working ever more to take it in. Mitsunari fists his hands in his coat to keep still, quaking in stunned desire at the sheer rigor with which Lord Hanbei gives himself to his lord.
If only Mitsunari could offer his own body in Lord Hanbei’s stead. Not to take his place - but Lord Hanbei’s fingers threading through his hair, guiding him ever down so it’s his throat forced open around Lord Hideyoshi’s cock, he who chokes and coughs and whines while Lord Hideyoshi takes his pleasure. Lord Hanbei’s skill and Mitsunari’s body all placed at Lord Hideyoshi’s disposal, as was right and proper. And when he’s at last permitted to raise his head Lord Hanbei will kiss him, before he has room even to breathe, share in the heavy taste of Lord Hideyoshi that lingers in his mouth…
“That’s enough.” Lord Hanbei’s lips linger as they slide from Lord Hideyoshi’s cock, but he looks up at him with pure promise in his eyes. “Come here, Hanbei. I’m more than ready.”
Every one of Lord Hanbei’s movements is entrancing. Mitsunari could never hope to match the grace with which he settles himself atop his lord’s massive hips, runs his fingers through the wiry hair of his chest. But still he could spread his legs just so painfully wide around his body, spread oil on his fingers as reverently as though it were still his lord’s cock he were attending to. And if Lord Hideyoshi would condescend to delay while Mitsunari bends his head to that hand, as Lord Hanbei does, Mitsunari would count it an honor beyond what he could hope to deserve.
Even just one of Lord Hideyoshi’s fingers seems enormous as he works it into Lord Hanbei’s ass. It must be a terrible strain to accommodate him at all - one suited to his grandeur. But before long Lord Hanbei’s flesh parts before him as surely as any opposing army, and the sighs on his lips are sounds of pure pleasure. He buries his face in Lord Hideyoshi’s shoulder, whispers rapturous things that Mitsunari can’t make out, and Lord Hideyoshi gives him a smile of sheer brilliance and opens him still further, slow and careful and inexorable.
But oh, he would need to take no such care with Mitsunari. Mitsunari would gladly subject himself to all the strength his lord holds in those brutal hands, let himself be spread apart for his lord’s taking with all the ruthless efficiency Lord Hanbei could demand of him, and nothing but a plea of devotion on his lips. His pain, his hardship of no import at all, not next to Lord Hideyoshi’s will. And when Lord Hideyoshi beckoned him further onto his lap those hands would be just as massive wrapped around his own hips, but the fingers would dig in with bruising strength, forcing him mercilessly down into place--
Lord Hanbei smiles. Tosses his head, and just for a moment, Mitsunari imagines he meets his eyes. That his lord’s judgment is brought down upon him for his trespass, for his presumption in daring to indulge such fantasies when Lord Hideyoshi has all the service he could ever need at his disposal. He ought to fling open the shoji right now, throw himself at his lords’ feet and beg -- if not their forgiveness, at least their swift and utter justice. Every moment he lingers in his own pleasure is yet another sin that he cannot expiate.
But Lord Hanbei merely shuts his eyes, lips parted in a sigh, and even in his shame Mitsunari can’t bring himself to look away as Lord Hideyoshi’s cock spreads him wider than even his fingers had. He can see his lord’s fingertips tremble where they grip Lord Hideyoshi’s arm, and before long his breaths are coming in hard gasps with the effort of driving himself on. But he only smiles wider, and moans with a lasciviousness that send thrills through Mitsunari’s body, and rides his lord without hesitation. And he serves, beautiful and resolute as Mitsunari could ever wish to be.
Mitsunari knows he hasn’t Lord Hanbei’s strength. To serve Lord Hideyoshi so would be overwhelming, a constant struggle against the frailty of his own recreant body. But Lord Hanbei would be there, and he would not hesitate to chastise Mitsunari if his weakness made him falter, rain sharp blows all across his skin in punishment for his recalcitrance. To fail to serve him as he ought would be even more grievous than to submit, and Mitsunari would be pinned between the unsparing demands of his lords, no option left him but to offer everything he had and more, all that Lord Hideyoshi’s grasp might reach.
And -- Lord Hideyoshi would reach between Lord Hanbei’s legs, just as he does now, Lord Hanbei’s fine fingers tangling in his own. Mitsunari could never hope to come in between them, couldn’t even hope for permission to beg to serve Lord Hanbei as well, though his mouth already waters for the taste of his cock. Lord Hanbei would merely reprimand him for his inattention, force him into a still more relentless rhythm. It would be enough for him, so much more than enough, to hear Lord Hanbei’s cries of gratification beside him. And maybe, maybe if he were good enough, Lord Hanbei would see fit to reach around his body, wring his pleasure from him even as he suffered the worst of Lord Hideyoshi’s use. Or even if he might be permitted the indulgence of wrapping his own hand around his cock - just for a moment, just to relieve the ache of his need…
Mitsunari startles to hear his own cry mingling among his lords’ as he thrusts desperately into his hand. But the sound is swallowed in Lord Hideyoshi’s ever stronger groans, and Lord Hanbei runs his hands through his hair and tangles them in his whiskers and looks nowhere at all but his lord’s face. “Hideyoshi,” he whispers, all his wantonness turned into simple pleading; then he bucks in Lord Hideyoshi’s hands and comes with only a ragged sigh, curling in on himself as though to hide the almost stunned exultation on his face.
He never stops moving. He rises up to take Lord Hideyoshi inside again and again, his legs still quaking with the force of his completion, and Mitsunari is transfixed by the sight. By the perfection of Lord Hanbei’s service, almost as painful to watch as it is beautiful. And Lord Hideyoshi roars as he takes him, loud and harsh and utterly sublime, and Mitsunari longs for his lord’s pleasure with every movement he can’t hold back, longs for Lord Hanbei to offer him up as surely as he offers his own body and let him be torn apart.
Mitsunari hears himself scream as he comes, wrung from his body as though his lord’s own power had overcome him.
Before his hips even stop jerking he realizes what he’s done, and the shame that chokes him is as overwhelming as the pleasure had been. For his lords to find him like this, without permission to remain in their presence or even to entertain such thoughts - it’s as good as betrayal. They would never do him the injustice of showing mercy for such a crime. And Mitsunari has brought it upon himself, with his own willful licentiousness.
Lord Hanbei slips from Lord Hideyoshi’s lap with a sigh, throws his robe just barely over one shoulder as he straightens. He leans down, whispers into Lord Hideyoshi’s ear, and Lord Hideyoshi allows him the shadow of a smile, but when Lord Hanbei turns around his face is hard and grim. By the time he’s reached the door Mitsunari has thrown himself into a bow, forehead pressed to the floor and nerves still ringing with unrightful pleasure.
“Why, Mitsunari-kun. I had wondered if I might find you here.” There’s amusement in his voice, but from Lord Hanbei that’s no less dangerous than open anger. “Tell me, what punishment would you deem fit for a man who gratifies himself on his lord’s private affairs? I’m sure you must have given it thought.”
Mitsunari can’t speak. Can’t even breathe through the tears building behind his face. He deserves the worst that Lord Hideyoshi can visit upon him, to be broken like the meanest of prisoners - doesn’t even deserve to offer his service, if all he brings with it is treachery. “Kill me!” he manages, his shout muffled by the ground. “My lord, I beg you! Let no man live who has committed such crimes against you!”
“Don’t be ridiculous, dear,” says Lord Hanbei dismissively. “What matters here is the good of the Toyotomi, as well you know. There’s no call for that sort of waste. Look at me.”
Mitsunari’s eyes travel slowly up Lord Hanbei’s fine white legs, across the traces of his seed that still streak his hip. He wishes Lord Hanbei might use him to clean himself, that he might be allowed to taste even that much of his lord’s flesh. He knows himself to be unworthy. He can’t meet Lord Hanbei’s eyes.
“Well, well.” Lord Hanbei’s foot nudges his legs apart to expose the mess he’s made of his clothes, toes digging into the skin of his thigh. “You certainly have enjoyed yourself.”
“My lord...please, I don’t understand! Are you saying you mean to allow me to beg forgiveness?”
“Oh, you’ll do a good deal more than beg.” Those toes press down on his oversensitized cock, and he chokes on his own breath. Fixes his eyes on the pitiless smile playing across his lord’s face, and tries desperately not to squirm away. “Forgiveness will have to come later, I’m afraid. If it pleases Hideyoshi, of course.”
Mitsunari dares raise his eyes, and feels the weight of Lord Hideyoshi’s gaze lying over him in judgment. “This is your undertaking, Hanbei,” he says. “Do as you see fit.”
He can hope for no mercy there, would never do him the offense of expecting it. If he is to be given even the chance to redeem himself, it must be because he still owes Lord Hideyoshi his service. He must be sure to earn it with every breath yet permitted him. “Thank you, Lord Hideyoshi!” he cries. “I’ll bear any labor, endure any punishment required of me!”
“That you will,” Lord Hanbei agrees, glancing up at Lord Hideyoshi with smile unflagging. Lord Hideyoshi nods, and Mitsunari knows how privileged he is even to witness the bond that they share. And then the shoji slam shut as Lord Hanbei steps forth, and he tugs Mitsunari up sharply by the hair and Mitsunari realizes he welcomes this punishment as much as he fears it, if only Lord Hanbei will grace him with his touch. He must confess that, too, when Lord Hanbei gives him leave to speak.
“Bring me my whip,” Lord Hanbei commands, and Mitsunari shivers. “But first, you’re going to tell me everything that went through your mind while you had your little indulgence.”