Work Text:
Inspired by Choso’s identity struggle in the manga, with a lot of smuttiness added. Mild manga spoilers since this takes place around chapter 205ish, but they’re so low key that ppl not caught up are honestly probably good to read this. Kept as many details out as possible.
Also, as a note: I do refer to Yuki with her surname in this despite the familiarity of the moment bc that’s how Choso addresses her when she tags him out of the fight.
***
He lay on the flat roof of the building where Tengen resided, knowing it was a risk and not caring, staring at the stars because they were beautiful, and because most of his brothers didn’t have the same luxury.
His motivations had always been clear in life. Get revenge on his father, honor his mother, protect his brothers. And tomorrow...tomorrow he would very likely die at the hands of his father in a last, cruel twist of fate.
It would be a strangely honorable death for a curse like him. Better than he could’ve asked for. Better than he deserved.
The stars twinkled brightly above him, illuminating the world in a silvery glow. They made him feel pure, almost. Clean. Even though he could bathe the world in blood, even though he’d murdered and lied and caused so much pain. It almost made him leave the roof, too ashamed of the sins he’d borne for well over a century.
But his brothers couldn’t see the stars anymore, so Choso stayed where he was, wishing that they could feel their beauty through him, wishing that they lay beside him as they once had.
***
Choso smelled Tsukumo before he saw her, the tang of human blood filling his nostrils as she came to sit beside him, leaning back onto her elbows. She had a nice scent, he thought, humor and impetuousness and stubbornness rolled into one. Simpler than most other humans, more straightforward. He supposed that straightforwardness was why she’d volunteered to stay behind with him on this death mission—she was rooted in her own ideals, unburdened by the opinions of others.
Such a contrast to himself.
“I haven’t asked you,” she said, looking up at the stars with him, a shared solitude.
“Asked me what?” Choso replied.
He thought it felt rather nice to have her company, even if he wasn’t sure he liked her all that much. He tilted his head over to her, regarding her.
“I ask everyone when I first meet them,” she explained, her voice louder than it was wise to be. Choso didn’t bother to shush her, their fates being sealed as they were. “It’s a good judge of character, I’ve found.”
“Are humans so simple that one question reveals their character?”
He didn’t think they were. Humans were…confusing. Their scents were muddled, not as dark and steady as curses, their blood flowing too rapidly through their veins.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I always thought so. Or at least—it's served me well in the past.”
“Must be a good one,” Choso murmured, faintly curious.
He’d never tried to personally define himself before. He’d always been whatever his brothers had needed him to be, a curse to the bitter end.
“All right, Curse,” she said, using the name she’d taken to calling him. It bothered him a little, but not so much for him to say anything about it. “What kind of woman is your type?”
Choso felt a breathless laugh ease out of him, caught entirely off guard.
Straightforward, indeed. He considered for a moment.
“I don’t think gender has ever mattered so much, as long as they wanted me.”
He wondered if he sounded pathetic. Probably. But Choso liked it, being desired, feeling wanted. It was the only thing he could ask for, cursed spirit that he was. He understood now, why she’d said the question had never failed her in the past—it was more revealing than it seemed, telling someone what you liked.
“A friend of mine would say that your answer was a boring one,” Tsukumo said, flicking a lock of her golden hair over her shoulders. Choso tracked the movement, watching as the starlight glinted off of her. “But I have a softer heart than he does.”
“And what about you?” Choso asked, ignoring the slight jab in her words. “What shit are you into?”
Tsukumo tipped her head back and laughed, the sound echoing across the rooftop.
“That isn’t what I asked you, Curse.”
“Isn’t it?”
He began to suspect why she’d come up here to find him as he caught a new scent twining through the air. It came from her, sweet and musky and mildly addictive. It caused his blood to thrum faster in his body, as if he were more human than curse.
“You aren’t going to change your mind about facing him alone, are you?” she said softly, shifting to face him.
“No,” Choso said, breathing in that scent, letting it fill him, soothe him, enjoying the feeling of being more human than curse.
“Then I’ll tell you.”
He got the impression that she’d rarely told anyone her answer to her own question. He wondered if he should feel privileged that she was going to tell him, one last secret revealed to a doomed being.
“It’s the hard-working type,” she said, and Choso blinked, having expected something shallower, a physical preference. “A man who isn’t afraid to get his hands a little dirty.”
Choso looked at his own hands, thinking of how many times they’d been covered in the blood of good and bad people alike.
“The morals behind it don’t matter,” Tsukumo continued, as if she could see the imagined blood on his skin. “Just some…roughness around the edges. Usually means I don’t have to do all the work in the bedroom.”
For the second time in one night, Choso laughed, such a ridiculously human thing to do. He tilted his head over to her, pulling his gaze from his hands.
“And here I thought you had given a soft answer like I did. You aren’t a giver, I take it?”
That scent grew stronger as she smiled at him, sly and knowing. Choso inhaled deeply, letting himself get drunk on the smell of her arousal, wishing he could taste it on his tongue. He felt sure she’d let him, if he asked.
“I can be," Tsukumo answered, her eyes glinting. "Once I’ve taken my fill. And you?”
“A giver to the core,” he murmured. “But I think you’ve already guessed that.”
Her smile grew sharp, her eyes frank.
“It’s obvious enough. A spirit who longs to be human, who loves his brothers. Tell me, Curse. When was the last time you ever did something for yourself?”
Choso closed his eyes as her voice washed over him, low and sultry.
“Right now, if you’ll let me,” he said quietly, driven to boldness by her.
“There’s the answer I was looking for,” she said, and Choso heard her clothes rustle as she stood. “Come on, Curse. One last romp before the morning comes.”
“Up here,” Choso whispered, unwilling to leave the freedom of the night air for the constricted indoors that made him think of a prison.
Tsukumo laughed, and the sound echoed. But Choso heard her sit back down, closer to him this time. He could nearly feel the heat of her, warming him, soothing him.
“I didn’t know curses could be so sentimental,” she teased softly, scooting slightly closer.
Choso felt the tickle of hair on his face, and her warm breath ghosted across his cheeks as she leaned over him. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he jolted, startled by her warmth, solid and complete. He blinked his eyes open, and saw that her face hovering inches above his, her eyes twinkling silver with merriment.
“Must be the human in me,” he muttered.
He looked at her for a moment, considering, feeling a deep, dark tug of arousal low in his gut. Tsukumo smiled again, her teeth catching the light of the stars, and Choso very nearly smiled back before he leaned upwards to close the gap in between them, capturing her lips with his own. His breath caught in his throat at the taste of her, the feel of her, salt on her lips and heat in her body, so simply human, so simply pure.
Choso opened his mouth to hers, sighing as she slid her fingers into his hair, which he’d left unbound for once. Such a pleasurable thing, being wanted, abomination that he was. He placed his hand on her back, pressing her gently forward onto him, smiling against her lips when she eased her body atop his. He pushed some of her hair behind her ears, feeling her shoulders, the cords of muscle that wound down her arms. She gasped against his mouth, and he felt another human reaction in her body—goosebumps, little chills, springing up in the wake of his touch as he moved his hands over her.
Choso groaned softly, feeling her again, and wedged a thigh between hers, another groan lodging in his throat when she ground against him.
Fuck, he loved it. The desire, the wanting, the arousal.
Choso deepened the kiss, gripping her hips tightly as she moved on him, grinding again. He hissed a little when she wrapped a hand around his cock through his pants, already hard, already aching. Tsukumo stroked him, and he bit her lip, nearly chuckling again at her straightforwardness.
This was what it felt like to be human, he thought. Touching someone, being touched, his blood hot and heavy as it raced through him. She made a soft sound, low and gentle against his mouth, and Choso pulled his lips from hers, his blood popping. He met her gaze, still faintly twinkling, even though her pupils were wide now, wide and filled out.
He could still smell her arousal, sweet and addictive. He wondered again what she would taste like, his thoughts pushing words out of his mouth.
“Use me to get off,” Choso rasped, gritting his teeth. “Use my face.”
Tsukumo's eyes widened further, and she breathed out a moan, free and uninhibited. She nodded, and rolled off him, tugging her shirt over her head as she went. Choso watched her, his eyes following the motion of her hands as she undressed, slim fingers undoing the ties of her pants, pushing her underwear off. He felt his own hands tug at his clothes, the layers of them, shucking them away, lifting his hips to pull off his pants. He slid his eyes over her, and wondered if he was petty for finding her attractive. He liked it, the way her hair curled down the length of her back. He wanted to tangle his hands in it, pull at it while he fucked her. He liked the scars that littered her body, because they were the marks of a fighter. He liked the pale pink of her nipples, and thought he wanted to taste those too. He felt a little guilty for it, his pettiness—his brothers had never been considered beautiful, and so Choso had never found such a thing important.
But the human side of him, the side of him that felt hot and aching and deeply aroused, enjoyed the sight of her.
And so, looking at her still, Choso lay flat on the roof, uncaring of the roughness of the concrete against his skin. Tsukumo watched him, her twinkling eyes trailing down his body. He thought again of the imagined blood on his hands, and wondered if she could see it. But she smiled, and rolled her shoulders, her eyes on his cock.
“Shit, Curse,” she said, grinning still, and Choso felt another very human emotion roll through him: pride.
He shifted his shoulders, the pride feeling heavy, and rested his hands behind his head. He let a smirk settle onto his face, something else that felt slightly heavy.
“Well, human?”
Choso felt his eyebrows knit together in quick confusion, his jaw a little tight. He’d made—he’d made a joke. His very first, in all his years of life.
Tsukumo’s lips quirked upwards, evidently pleased by his joke, and she knelt beside him, not hesitating before she swung a leg over his shoulders. The smirk slipped from his face as the scent of her arousal crashed into him once more, and he thought he saw her close her eyes as she situated herself, her knees bending, carefully balancing. She grinned again, and then moaned, not bothering to be quiet as she lowered her cunt to his mouth. Choso groaned, pleased at the taste of her, the headiness, and wrapped his arms around each of her thighs to pull her closer.
Choso wondered, distantly musing, whether or not it was possible for him to be addicted to something. He thought, as Tsukumo rocked slightly against his mouth, that this might be it.
She braced her palms on either side of his head, squirming a little against his hold on her thighs. Choso looked at up at her, and again rocked her slowly over his mouth, her eyes glittering now with a frank sort of desire that seared him to his bones. She laughed, low and husky, and her head fell back as she tipped her hips forward, gasping. She did it once more, his tongue sliding over her clit, circling. He leaned further up into her, his grunt muffled, his arms around her thighs urging her into a rhythm. Tsukumo fell into it, jumping forward, uninhibited.
“Fuck,” Tsukumo breathed, losing herself, her hips rolling against his mouth, his tongue.
Choso’s hunger for her ratcheted up several notches, the taste of her shifting, the smell of her. She was close, he realized. She would come on him, from his touch. He swore, and lifted her slightly, his breath heavy.
"Harder," he said raggedly, running his tongue over his teeth. "I told you to use me."
Tsukumo closed her eyes, and Choso felt her shudder against him. He felt more pride, a weighty prickle articulating somewhere in his stomach, at the effect he was having on her. And looking at her, lowering her back down onto his mouth, Choso realized something.
He wanted—he wanted to know what it felt like to be human, just once before the end of it all. A last gift to himself, perhaps. His greatest shame, the one thing he’d never told his brothers, the thing that Tsukumo had mentioned so casually.
He did long to be human.
So he released the damper on himself, and enjoyed the feeling of his blood flowing as freely and hotly through his body as a human’s would, and he pushed away the side of him that was cold, sluggish, vengeful.
Human.
He kept his eyes fixed on Tsukumo, letting her rest her weight on him, nearly smothering him as he licked into her. He felt like he was burning as he watched her, helping her move on him. He squeezed her thighs, feeling her tremble, and saw her head fall back again, her mouth opening. She cried out, and he groaned into her, feeling her pleasure as it unfolded in her, hot and wild.
That was it, Choso thought, seeing her. That was what it looked like to be human. No fucking wonder it felt addictive to him.
Tsukumo shifted her weight from him on shaking legs, collapsing beside him as she panted. Choso turned his head to the side to look at her, noting the flush in her cheeks. She smiled, small and satisfied, and he felt another unfamiliar wash of humor rise in him, another joke.
“Did I get my hands dirty enough for you?” he asked slowly.
Tsukumo chuckled, her thumb by the corner of her lips.
“I don’t think your hands had much to do with it.
Banter. So simple, so strange. But Choso realized he’d been doing it all night, unintentionally teasing her.
“That’s next,” he murmured, shivering a little at the thought of making her come again.
His fingers, his cock, his mouth—anything she wanted.
Tsukumo looked at him thoughtfully, her eyes on his cock again, hard and leaking against his stomach.
“Can curses come?”
Choso laughed shortly.
“I can.”
“Good,” she said, her eyes turning heavy-lidded. “It’s your turn, Curse.”
“Choso,” he corrected quietly.
Tsukumo grinned, and cocked an eyebrow, conceding. She pushed herself up, leaning over him again, brushing her thumb across his lips, slick with her own arousal.
“You liked it, didn’t you?”
Choso felt himself smirk again, and a curious heat rose in his cheeks as he nodded. He was…flushed. How strange.
“Let me do it again,” he said, a little roughly, staring up at her. “Let me make you come again.”
Tsukumo muttered a quiet curse as she hitched her leg over him once more, rubbing herself against his cock. Choso arched into her, his eyes squeezing shut at the pleasure that bolted through him, at being so very nearly inside her. His hands shot forward, gripping her hips tightly. She eased up onto her knees, and he flinched, his breath catching as she curled her fingers around him, lining herself up.
"You can do it again," she said, her voice strangely soft.
She slid her eyes to him, and kept them there as she sank down onto him, slick and tight and enveloping, a slow glide.
“ Fuck ,” Choso whispered, easing her slowly down by his hold on her hips until he filled her completely.
Tsukumo’s mouth had fallen open, her pupils dilated so much now that her eyes were nearly wholly black.
“Choso," she breathed. "Holy shit.”
Choso groaned at the sound of his name said in such tones, her voice low with desire, and felt almost delirious in his arousal. He slid his hands up her back, pushing her body flush to his, grinning at the feel of her soft tits against his chest. He pulled her into a kiss that was rough with urgency, and thrust up into her once, kissing her again before he eased slightly out. He felt a little wild, knowing she could taste herself on his tongue, a forbidden sweetness. She tangled her fingers into his hair, and rolled her hips against him once, encouraging.
“Show me how you like it," Choso said, and thrust up into her a little harder, watching her reaction, feeling her clutch at him. "I need to see it again."
He gasped, because she clutched at him once more as he slid into a rhythm, fucking into her hard. His fingers finding the ends of her hair and he tugged a little, watching a gasp move through her throat as she tipped her head back.
“Don’t stop,” Tsukumo gasped, sinking her nails into his chest. “Choso, don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” Choso promised, his voice a harsh whisper.
He surged forward, tipping her onto her back, her legs hooking over his shoulders. He grasped the backs of her thighs, fucking deeper, harder, entranced by that bold, unflinching look of hers.
“Let me see you come again,” he said, desperate, a pleading note in his voice.
He could smell it on her, everything deepening again, her arousal shifting. He slid a hand between her legs, his thumb finding her clit, and rubbed a slick circle over it, his gut tightening.
“Tsukumo. Please let me see it.”
“Choso—“
“There you go,” he said fiercely, triumph flaring in him as he felt her start to tip over the edge, as he saw it in her eyes and smelled it in her body.
He clutched a handful of her hair, forcing her eyes to meet his, and groaned with her as she came, fucking her through it, her moment of pure humanity. It pushed him, the sight of her, her cunt squeezing him, her hips fitting to his. His gut tightened further, his thighs beginning to shake. Tsukumo looked at him, taking him, and her grin slid across her face again.
“Inside me,” she said, her voice steady through her breathlessness, the tremors of her orgasm still shaking her.
Choso shuddered, and fucked into her harder still, gritting his teeth at the idea of it. A liberty, something forbidden, a being like him spilling into a human like her. But Tsukumo grinned again, sharp and unflinching, and Choso felt himself give in, pleasure beginning to steal his rationality. Everything broke suddenly, unexpectedly, his focus still on her grin. Choso made a sound low in his throat, and gasped out as he filled her, his orgasm sharp, his cock deep inside her.
He fell forward against her, and everything seemed hazy, slightly unbelievable. Some part of his mind that could still form thoughts recognized that he should move, because he was likely crushing her. So Choso shifted, moving away, and then laughed unsteadily when Tsukumo wrapped her arms firmly around him, dragging him back into place atop her.
That was right, he thought, something clicking. Humans liked to hold each other after sex.
So Choso let her hold him, rolling them so she was over him rather than the other way around. He felt some of his cum leak out of her, dripping, and a tremor shot through him like a star making its way through the sky.
They didn't move for awhile, his blood cooling again, and Tsukumo was silent for so long that Choso began to suspect that she’d fallen asleep. He thought there was something oddly pleasing about the idea, ridiculous as it was. Nobody had ever felt comfortable enough with him to sleep beside him before. His body was too cold for that, the aura of the curse that made up half of him too disturbing.
But she spoke after a while, and her voice was sated and sleepy.
“I was right about you, Choso.”
He really did like it, the way his name sounded coming from her. It was like she’d said it a hundred times, so often that it had become routine.
“Right about what?” he murmured, daring to stroke a hand through her hair, knowing he’d done something right when she leaned into his touch.
He felt her smile against his chest.
“You’d be my type, if we were long for this world.”
Choso blinked, a little stunned.
“The things that could’ve been,” he whispered to her, wondering at the new, more complicated emotion fluttering through him.
Affection? Regret?
He couldn’t figure out if any of it mattered as he stared at the stars that shone overhead, feeling confident now that wherever they were, his brothers could see them.
***
I hated to end it there, but it’s the only place it could’ve stopped to fit with the manga! Ahhh. I hope we all enjoyed thirsty Choso lol.