Chapter Text
“That infuriating, sweet, handsome, son of a BITCH!”
The words rang through the Wind estate, echoing off the walls and striking fear into all the poor staff stationed there.
Sanemi gnashed his teeth, thundering down the hallway as he swore like a sailor under his breath. Tension radiated from his body like water from a river and sent a warning to anyone who dared get close. The Kakushi that were cleaning up in the background nervously tittered around, trying not to cross paths with the angry Hashira.
He stomped around, walking briskly around the halls to get to his private room. His hands clenched and unclenched constantly, eager to punch or maim something. Preferably someone. He slammed open the sliding door to his room and walked in, angrily toeing off his shoes and practically ripping the door in half behind him when he closed it.
He flopped down onto his unmade futon from that morning, when he was too preoccupied by Gyoumei’s sudden visit to clean up after himself. He clenched his teeth and threw his pillow at the wall, making an obnoxiously loud 'thud'. Sadly, this was a common occurrence at the Wind Estate, mainly because of Sanemi’s hotheadedness.
He let out a soft groan and buried his face into the blankets. He burrowed deep into the soft fabric, determined to isolate himself from the rest of the world. If he didn't move from his cocoon, he wouldn't have to deal with anyone else for the rest of his life, and that sounded like a good idea to him. He lay there for who-knows how long, seething into his futon and punching the tatami floor next to him occasionally.
His crow jumped down from its perch on his windowsill and hopped around nervously, squawking quietly and ruffling its feathers. It was a young crow, always nervous around its aggressive owner.
Sanemi peeked out from underneath the pile of blankets and self-pity he smothered himself in. He let out a tiny breath and removed the pillow from his face.
“Sorry Sorai, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He mumbled, reaching out a finger and gently rubbing its feathers. It cooed softly and nuzzled closer before flying away to wherever they went. Perhaps it went to bother the staff for food. At least Sanemi didn't have any missions right then, so he could stew in his misery for a little longer.
He sighed and curled into himself, not pouting (he was definitely pouting). He had just said goodbye to Gyoumei at the front gates. The stone Hashira had just got back from a long mission, one where Sanemi couldn’t see the other for almost 4 weeks. Their meetings were always too short, but in this case it was minuscule. They had been interrupted not once, but twice by some random fuckers, asking stupid questions. He had barely stopped himself from beating their asses, and even then he only held back because Gyoumei would be disappointed.
Still, it was amazing to finally be able to call this gentle giant his and his alone. Call him possessive, but after almost six months of pining, this was heaven. Not matter how small the meetings were, he loved Gyoumei so much and was so happy. He was happy. A very nice change to his normal aggressive self for his and for everyone else’s sake.
But even so, the two of them haven't done anything. No matter how many times Sanemi threw around innuendos, showed off his body, flirted, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Hell, they haven't even kissed yet! The monk was so stubborn with his self control and all, that he had only given Sanemi kisses on the forehead and cheek. It was as endearing as it was infuriating.
Sanemi scowled and shoved his face into his pillow. It wasn't fair. He was at his wit’s end. He had already come to terms with his sexuality, the fact that he found men to be the hottest thing since he tried ohagi, and the fact that he wanted to be pinned down and brutally fucked by-
Nope.
He was not finishing that thought.
He sat up on his knees, blanket around him with his face flushing. Since when did he want that? He brought a cold hand to touch his rapidly heating face. He had considered the idea before, and even asked Shinobu how to prepare for that sort of stuff, but that was an embarrassing and humiliating conversation he was not prepared to remember.
He laid down again, face red as he thought about it. What would Gyoumei do? Would it be gentle? Would it be ruthless as the Stone Hashira finally let himself go? He thought about Gyoumei touching him with those huge, calloused hands. Hands that were rough from training and use. The hands that were almost 2 sizes bigger than his own and could cradle both of Sanemi’s hands in one palm. How gentle the other would be, holding him like he was fragile, when they both damn well knew he wasn’t.
He stifled a shiver and turned over. He stared up at the ceiling rafters for a few moments and let out a shaky breath. He breathed for a bit while he tried to calm his burning face.
No. He wasn’t going to think about this. He wasn’t going to think about Gyoumei’s strong arms, or his fucking chiseled body, or his deep voice, or his sculpted abs. His deep voice, praising Sanemi and telling him how good he he was being and-
Fuck. He was already hard.
He looked down and sighed. He was sporting an obvious boner. This was pathetic, the idea of getting hard over literally nothing. He ran over his choices in his head. One, he could ignore it and just sleep it off. Or two…
He could, ahem, get rid of the problem.
He thought for a second before clicking his tongue and getting up. He was weak to pleasure, sue him.
He padded across the room to the wooden chest he kept in the corner. He opened it and rifled through the contents before he grabbed a bottle and went back to his futon. He laid back down on his back and placed the bottle by his head. He let out a sigh and tried to relax. Just how pent up was he that something so simple was getting him hot and bothered?
He let his hands dance across his skin, pretending that they were bigger, that they weren’t his own and instead Gyoumei’s. He ran his hands gently up his sides and across his pecs. His finger brushed against his nipple and he shifted. He let out another breath as he continued to tease at his chest.
He shook his arms out of their sleeves and slid out of his haori and uniform top, tossing them somewhere in the room. His chest was now fully exposed, making him shiver as the colder air hit his sensitive skin. His window was still open and the faint smell of wisteria tickled his nose. He played with his chest again, tracing his scars and running his hands everywhere. He lightly pulled at one of his nipples, causing him to twitch and muffle a small breathe that slipped out of him.
“Fuck…” He whispered, enough self-awareness to at least try to be quiet. He was really going to do this? Touch himself at the thought of his partner?
His hips humped the air as he teased his chest again, his body answering that question for him. Yes. Yes he is going to do this. He looked down at his crotch and saw that he was unbearingly hard, the fabric straining against his uniform pants.
He moved a hand slowly down towards his belt and fumbled with it until it came free. He loosened the belt and slid his pants down and off his body. He undid his fundoshi with a sigh of relief as his dick sprung free. He threw his clothes in the direction where his shirt was, before settling back down.
He never cared about how big he was, because that didn’t matter to him at all. But as he wrapped a hand around his dick, he wondered how big Gyoumei was. He could speculate, based on the others size, and that thought alone made him moan. How big would he be? Would it hurt?
God, Gyoumei was just too much. He made Sanemi’s head spin and made it hard to think straight. He was just so damn enticing, even when he was doing something innocent.
He squeezed slightly, catching a bead of precum with his thumb and teasing his tip. He clasped his hand over his mouth to quiet his sounds, biting softly into his skin. He brought his hand up and down, jerking himself off quickly and quietly.
He pretended that Gyoumei was touching him, that he was creating this fast pace and making him arch his back. He twisted his hand and closed his eyes to the increasing pleasure. Letting himself feel as he traced his slit with his finger. He leaked more precum and would be embarrassed at how wet he was getting if he wasn't so fucking turned on. He urged his hand to move fast, the soft sounds of his pleasure barely noticeable but echoing around in his head. He was getting closer, could feel the tension in his stomache, burning hot as he thought about Gyoumei's body pressing against him and trapping him in that embrace.
But then an idea came to him and he grabbed the base of his dick just as he was about to come. An mortifying whine slipped between his fingers at the loss of stimulation. His eyes grew wide as his face flushed even further. Thank God that no one was around to hear it. If he had been heard, Sanemi was sure his reputation would be over. (But not before murdering whoever had heard)
He was panting, chest rising and falling as he let go of his dick. It looked red and was weeping pre, aching for more stimulation.
Sanemi turned around and shakily got on his knees, pressing his face into his pillow and lifting his hips. He blushed furiously, feeling utterly shameless. This was so stupid.
But he still couldn’t deny this overwhelming strong need he had. It was in the pit of his stomach, gnawing at his bones and lighting a fire within him. He wanted this. He wanted to be fucked by Gyoumei.
His face flushed a whole new shade of red. This was embarrassing to admit, even in the confines of his own head. He grabbed the bottle next to his head as a distraction and poured a generous amount of gel on his hand. He warmed it up slightly, rubbing his fingers together. He shifted his hips again, and brought a shaky hand to his entrance.
He circled his rim, shivering, as his bit his lip. Thoughts of Gyoumei filled his head, more vivid than before. Gyoumei, grabbing his hip, using his fingers to trace his entrance before slipping in and teasing Sanemi. Murmuring praises, telling Sanemi how good he was being, how open and warm he was. Gyoumei would finger him open until he was crying and begging to be fucked, and he would be so gentle about it to. He'd bully Sanemi with that gentle smile on his face all the while Sanemi would shake and beg for more, but would be denied because of Gyoumei's stupid self control.
Sanemi let out a louder moan and slipped a finger into him. He bit the blanket in front of him, in a desperate attempt to stay silent. He curled his finger, gently playing with and exploring his insides. It felt strange, but with the amount of lubricant on his finger, not unpleasant.
He searched for his prostate, trying to follow Shinobu's humiliating instructions.
"If you're looking for pleasurable intercourse between men, I would recommend using your prostate. When stimulated, it creates the same euphoric feeling as a woman’s g-spot. Your prostate is located about 5-6 inches from your entrance, right at the base of your peni-"
"I GOT IT!"
He had stormed out of the Butterfly Mansion with a red face and a giggling Shinobu behind him(the witch), and had vowed to never return. He scowled at the memory. He had only gone out of curiosity and now would not be going back anytime soon.
He angled his finger slightly, still searching for it. He angled it downwards and slightly curled his finger.
He jerked forward, his moan caught in his throat as he brushed against that spot. He did it again, causing his back to arch into his finger.
An electric feeling shot through his body, making his toes curl and his back arch. His mouth fell open in a silent gasp, releasing the spit soaked fabric, eyes wide and body reeling.
He did it again, and again, fucking himself onto his finger and pressing into his prostate. His blanket was soaked with drool as he bit down to supress his groans of pleasure. His breathing quickened and his eyes were threatening to roll back into his head. He quickly added another finger, a lewd squelch filing the room as he did so, relishing in the slight burn.
He was losing his goddamn mind. How the hell could something feel this good? He let out another needy noise, muffled through the cloth, as he brushed against that spot again.
He was going crazy, desperately fucking himself on his fingers as his poor dick leaked precum like a fucking facuet. He was so turned on it hurt, his dick was red and begging for release.
He slipped another finger in, barely lubing it up and easily spreading himself open. Excess lube dripped down his thighs and created a wet mess, making his three fingers slide in easily.
He was mumbling random strings of words, begging and whining as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Gyoumei, Gyoumei, please, please, nnNGH—" He slurred, saying his boyfriend's name like it was a prayer.
His hand moved towards his dick and he jerked himself off as he fucked himself with his fingers, begging and red in the face. He was sure he was quite the sight, one of the strongest Hashira reduced to a puddle of need and want.
He was so close, racing towards his finish at lightning speed as he twisted his wrist and cried out. He was torn between thrusting into his fist and grinding back into his fingers, the stimulation deliciously painful as he gripped his dick tighter.
His eyes rolled back as he came, ropes of cum landing on his futon. The intensity of his climax shook him to his core. His legs grew shaky and his vison whited out for a second before he relaxed. He slipped his fingers out of him, wincing at how empty he suddenly felt. He collapsed in a sweaty pile of limbs, too tired to clean up.
He lay there panting, relishing in the cold breeze from outside coming in from the window. The cool air felt like heaven on his hot and sweaty skin. It ruffled his hair slightly and Sanemi closed his eyes.
He slowly sat up, and opened his eyes, arms feeling like jelly. He looked down at his chest, his scarred skin covered in cum.
"Ew, that's fucking disgusting…" He mumbled, cringing when he felt lube slowly slide out of his ass. He needed to bathe before he went on patrol, but he had half a mind to forgoe it and just sleep. But he just shook his head and steeled himself for another night fighting weak demons and without Gyoumei. That though sobered him up enough to move. He groaned while standing up on only slightly shaky legs and grabbing a random cloth that was lying around. He walked over to the basin in his room and slowly started to clean himself up.
He gazed outside the window as he mindlessly wiped himself down. The sun had started to set while he was… preoccupied.
He wondered what Gyoumei would be up to at this time. Probably training, the crazy bastard only slept for a few hours before going off to train and hunt. Sanemi didn't even know if that dumb giant even knew what breaks were.
Sanemi smiled softly as he thought about Gyoumei. He changed back into his uniform and let himself trace the kanji carved into his blade. Destroyer of Demons. It helped clear his head of all lingering arousal and focus his mind. He went outside with his crow flying above, and breathed in the smell of wisteria. Yet another night on patrol.