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The fire burned brightly in the quiet night of the camp; the sounds of skittering wildlife whispered at the edges of joyous shouts. The smoke from the fire rose and masked his view of the others, not that it mattered much. The wine poured freely after a day well fought, the war with the Seijoh kingdom was nearing the end of a decade of bloodshed, a decade since he’d seen his home, and a decade since his best friend had slept soundly.
The memories from back home almost seemed like a dream at this point, a story told to them as children rather than an actual part of their lives. At some point the war had been all they’d known; all they could remember in between moments of peace were cries of victory and the sight of blood-soaked cloth and stitches. It wasn’t all bad, being at was as horrible yes, but there were moments in between the chaos that he let swallow him whole, like tonight.
Atsumu smiled and laughed loudly as the edges of his senses burned with the licks of wine. One of his comrades donned a skirt and drunkenly danced far too close to the fire, but still it sent the encampment howling in laughter as he swayed this way and that. Unconsciously, Atsumu’s golden eyes searched the small groups of chatter, searching for one particular head of hair. It was the person who pushed him forward simply by standing by his side, his best friend that went to war with him and fought alongside him for just about a decade of their lives.
Kiyoomi was a few seats away, laughing with a few of the archers as the unmatched war brides tried their best to get his attention. He never paid them much mind, entertaining them in the public eye but never once inviting them back to his tent. Still, it was amusing to see them drape themselves along his arms, giggling at whatever he said although it was obvious they weren’t listening to a single word.
His golden eyes slid over to Atsumu and shared a small smile of acknowledgement, the smile only growing when his friend grinned in response. A secret conversation traversed between the two with a single glance, a raised brow in question, a light blush and a shake of the head, it was all the same. The two of men only existed in a world with the two of them for a moment, oblivious to the eyes that watched them and the knowing looks that their comrades shared.
They had been friends since they were young children, Kiyoomi being disowned by his father who was a horrible king, but he ended up being taken in as a ward in Atsumu’s kingdom. They lived for a year or so without ever acknowledging one another, one palace being large enough for them to have completely separate lives until they weren’t. Kiyoomi was a bitter child, never wanting to take his lessons and never wanting to dine with the others. After a while Atsumu started to sit with him outside with plates of food, soon dinner turned to talking, and then private lessons with Prince Atsumu.
When they became best friends neither of them felt as alone as they once did, the void in the life they had been living now filled with a blossoming companionship that flourished on the grounds of the palace. When Atsumu was sent away to apprentice with the warrior of the mountains, Kiyoomi went with him. When they were dragged away at the call of the war, Kiyoomi was right by his side.
Now here they were, sharing a glance with a thousand words attached, neither of them missed what was said and neither looked away. The moment was broken when the boisterous drunken laughter sounded from the other side of the fire. There were a few of the outer guardsmen that always had far too much fun with their brides, their breaths constantly reeking of wine and eggs. Honestly it was a miracle that they had survived this long. The thought was fleeting, as a body was pushed into Atsumu’s lap.
“Here we are Bryseis!” The man wasn’t someone that Atsumu knew personally, but he knew he was a member of the Greek encampment. “Your new warrior, since you are now on your own.” He said it so matter of factly, like him saying so made the act law. Still the woman didn’t protest, she didn’t try, nor did she push herself from Atsumu’s lap. If anything she giggled as if it was the most normal thing in the world, snuggling up in Atsumu’s lap as the warrior went rigid.
What the hell are they talking about? Atsumu’s thoughts ran wild as he tried to sober up his wine laced mind, dragging the cogs of his brain into a working rhythm as he gently pushed her off of him. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass her by rejecting her publicly, but he also didn’t want to make it look like something he wasn’t.
Bryseis was a cold woman, eyes like a viper, always looking for new prey within the camps. She always managed to crawl her way into a strong warrior's bed, her curvaceous figure and charming smile seemed to help her get away with that. Atsumu smiled politely, waving off the whistles and taunts of his comrades, hoping beyond hope that this would all be forgotten in the morning.
What he didn’t notice was the narrowed golden eyes that watched him, the wans that glared dagger at the woman that had allowed herself to be manhandled into his lap. Kiyoomi didn’t like the way Atsumu was so nonchalant about such things, allowing the Greek encampment to come in and cause a ruckus whenever they wished. The blissful fun that had blanketed the aura of the party was ruined for him, the fire feeling too hot and the wine too bitter. This wasn’t a feeling that was unfamiliar to him, but it still wasn’t something he could name. The deep green beast that hissed and coiled in his belly, although nameless, still remained a mystery to him most days.
Knowing of the woman didn’t help him, knowing what her plan was and what the other men were trying to do only made the beast angrier. That was enough for one night, a whispered goodbye to the others he’d been conversing with and a quick glance back at Atsumu to let him know he was leaving. That was when he caught the look in his friends' eyes, the concerned lace politeness that sat delicately in his eyes and in the tightness of his smile.
It was small, but it made the muscles in Kiyoomi’s body relax just the smallest bit. It was alright, the moment just being that of men and women in a drunken stupor. Nothing underlying or nefarious was at hand, but still the reaction was curious. Why do I care? Kiyoomi asked himself as he walked back to his tent. The question wasn’t new to him, becoming somewhat like a silent mantra over the last few months as things in his heart had shifted.
Atsumu on the other hand suddenly wished Kiyoomi didn’t leave, small whispers in the back of his mind asking if the woman was to blame. It was something he could ask in the morning. Bryseis stayed attached to his side for the rest of the night, she laughed at every unfunny thing he spouted, joked as if they’d known each other far longer than a fortnight, and annoyed the daylights out of him. She was nice when she wanted to be but having her so near made his skin burn as if he’d been in the sun training for too long in the midst of summer, so he called it a night.
That would be the end of that, no longer having to watch her play into the falsehood of her claiming to belong to him anymore. In the morning the other men would soon forget the tired joke and leave it all to rest where it should have stayed. Atsumu had no intention of taking on a warbride, the idea of a person in his bed that he didn’t know was too strange to him.
A secret resided in his heart, one that he was sure no one had an inkling of and he would rather keep it that way. Still, the looming buzz of the wine that rushed through his blood had other ideas. He knew anyone could pop into his tent as easily as a leaf whipping in the wind, but that almost added to the taboo of it all. The secret slithered like a viper over his body, whispering sweet nothings that would never come to fruition, and painting a fantasy that would only ever reside in his dreams.
Closing his eyes, the image that came to him was that of Kiyoomi, bathing in the rivers at dusk. His skin glowed with the setting sun, streams of yellows, oranges and pinks littered across his skin like a dream as water poured over him. This wasn’t that far off from reality, many of the men bathed in the river, but when Kiyoomi looked at him…that was when it became pure lust-filled fantasy.
A small knowing smile lilted at his lips, a hand reaching out in a silent question. In this world where only the two of them existed, no war and no army, just them enjoying the warm waters of the river against their naked bodies. Atsumu imagined how soft Kiyoomi’s lips would be, how gentle his touch was, and before he knew it he was hardening in his own pants.
The ones he wore to sleep were already loose, the waistband hanging so desperately low on his hips that the women of the camp thought it should be a crime. Atsumu allowed himself to lay back in his pallet, the blankets and pillows doing nothing to pull him away from the carnal passion that enveloped his mind right then. His hand was already palming himself, the blissful sense of friction making a small whimper spill from his lips.
This wasn’t the first time his best friend had been the subject of his late-night fantasies, but that was the secret he would carry within his heart alone. He wouldn’t dare pick at what this could possibly mean, how this would change their friendship forward, and so it must never be spoken aloud.
In the river Kiyoomi pressed his naked body against Atsumu. Time was mixing, bleeding together to paint a mirage of passion filled desire. Between the warmth of the sun kissed water, and the heat of Kiyoomi’s touch, Atsumu felt overwhelmed, but he did not dare pull away. Instead, he gripped Kiyoomi’s small waist and pulled them close enough that the cocks languidly slid against one another. Mirrored sighs of pleasure escaped them, allowing themselves to cascade over the waterfall of lust instead of asking too many questions.
Then the scene changed again, Kiyoomi’s back pressed down in the grass that decorated the riverbank, his legs wrapped around Atsumu’s waist as if they belonged there. In his bed the air was too hot, the image in his mind too good, it overtook his senses as he thoughtlessly freed himself from the confines of his clothing. His cock was hard and reddened with neglect when he touched it, swiftly giving it a few gentle strokes before reaching over for the bottle of oil by his pallet.
The oil was quick to warm in his hands, creating a graceful glide as he stroked himself through the rest of his vision. He imagined what Kiyoomi would sound like, what his beautiful face would look like in the throes of pleasure. Atsumu’s pace quickened as moan after moan fell from his lips like warm honey, he couldn’t stop his chase of ecstasy if he’d wanted to. The euphoric fall coming quicker than he’d intended, but still ropes of pleasure decorated his chest as his breaths fell loud and heavy in his tent.
A small voice in the back of his mind thought he heard someone walk away from the opening of his tent, but his hearing was obsolete, his vision blurred in a post orgasm bliss. What he wouldn’t give for the fantasies to bleed into reality, for his Kiyoomi to look at him with desire embedded in his eyes, but that was only a dream. A wish that would never come to pass and that was something Atsumu had already come to terms with.
He had no knowledge of his blushing best friend that had walked away from his tent just moments before, the one that had come to talk to him before calling it a night. Atsumu didn’t know how hard Kiyoomi’s cock was as he quickly walked back to his own tent, only lasting moments inside before he was touching himself.
Instead Atsumu cleaned himself up and quickly drifted off to sleep just as he always did.
When Atsumu’s bed began to rustle he assumed the tent had been opened and the wind had kicked up. He didn’t even bother to open his eyes until he felt soft hand on his body, smaller ones than his or Kiyoomi’s. As if the gods themselves had screamed him awake, Atsumu bloated upright only to come face to face with Bryseis.
The widowed war bride’s skin was flushed with the remnants of wine that still kissed her blood, her eyes low and hazy as she walked further into his tent. His mind still a bit groggy with sleep, Atsumu couldn’t seem to string together a single sentence as she inched her way closer to his bed pallet. It took a few more moments for him to realize the thundering sound in his ears was his own heartbeat racing as he still did nothing.
Were this a warrior or an assassin he would have already been a lifeless heap on the floor of his tent. This was Bryseis, a woman he didn’t know well, nor did he care too, but it was obvious she was not in her right of mind. Her steps didn’t falter and her lips never opened to speak before she was climbing into his bed as if she were invited. Atsumu wished he could move, wished he could fathom what line of thinking within the drunken mind led her to his tent and ultimately to his bed.
She didn’t stop moving until she was straddling his hips, her dress lifting on its own and his hands automatically raised in the air so as to not come into contact with her flesh. It was curious, the way his body instinctively recoiled from her advances, the way every drop of blood in his veins screamed at him to get her off.
“Come on, you don’t have to pretend to be a respectful gentleman. It’s just us here, y’know.” Her words were slurred only slightly, but the weight of her eyes never changed. They dripped with venomous lust, the air growing with it.
Atsumu tried to reason with her, his hands attempting to find a home between the blankets or under his legs, anywhere that wasn’t her body. It wasn’t for Bryseis, his lack of interest and initiation was to tame the guilt-ridden beast that clawed at his chest. It felt wrong to have her this close to him, this intimate and even in his bed. The thought of someone seeing her here…of Kiyoomi seeing her here…
Wait what?
Kiyoomi wouldn’t care, the knowledge of Atsumu’s affection was as far away from him as the stars were to the earth. Always watching and all knowing but never within grasping distance. The truth of it still caused an ache in the warrior's chest, but that ache was worth more to him than the half naked bride attempting to seduce her way into his bed.
Pushing her off of him was effortless, his muscle mass being about four times her body weight, a little more and she would have flown to the floor. Instead she fell over with a hard thump on the bed pallet as he stood. Putting as much distance between them as he could, Atsumu squared his shoulders and listened for any movement outside of the tent.
“Tonight, wasn’t an invitation. You had no business coming here.” He kept his voice low and menacing, a sound that made the woman still seated in his bed tremble with a small sliver of fear. Gone was the wine induced lust that had lived within her eyes when she came inside the tent, instead they were wide in shock.
Atsumu wondered if this woman had ever known the bitter taste of rejection, had it ever rolled over the wounds of her heart or was she always on the other end? That wasn’t something he cared to find out, but he still wasn’t sure of what to do.
“My lord…so you don’t want me?’ It was a ghost of a question, spoken into the silence that had befallen the tent in the moment following his words. She looked crestfallen, the corner of her plump lips downturned in anger as her body continued to tremble. This truly was the sight of a child being told no for the very first time, the edges of a tantrum licking at her mind as he stood and watched.
Atsumu wasn’t the type to entertain foolery, least of all in his own tent. “No. I do not want you.”
The morning was hot as always, a thin slick of sweat clinging to Kiyoomis skin as he gathered his things to go wash himself in the river. It was then that he heard someone talking just outside his tent, the thin layers of fabric doing barely anything to conceal who was speaking.
Bryseis.
“You have no idea Aetna. Atsumu is a god on the battlefield as well as between the furs. I made sure to pay him a little visit last night to solidify my place as his bride.”
Kiyoomi wasn’t sure exactly what it was, the alluring tone in her voice, the way it almost felt like she was teasing the story in front of the other bride…or was it the fact that she claimed to have slept with Atsumu last night. It didn’t matter, the seething rage that now licked at his heart was a forge too hot to stay within the confines of his tent. Instead he gathered his things quickly, making sure to grab some food from the borning tables as he left.
He didn’t plan on coming back anytime soon. Was he sulking? Maybe. Was all of this a bit childish? Possibly. But none of that mattered, not when the images of Bryseis naked body still seared its way across his vision like a living nightmare. It played on repeat as if he were in the depths of Tartarus being tortured for the secrets of his soul, and this was the weapon of choice.
A small part of him knew Atsumu would come looking for him, and an even smaller part of him wanted it. The other part of him wished he wouldn’t, it wished that he would stay with his new war bride and leave him to drown his sorrows in the morning platters of meats and cheeses the camp had set out. Kiyoomi didn’t want to have to face the truth of his anger head on, not when it was something that would change everything in the blink of an eye.
Still, that was impossible. “There you are, Kiyoomi.” His voice was as sweet as honey, as always. It was infuriating as Kiyoomi did his best to pretend he didn’t hear him and instead continued munching away at his platter with his back flat on the ground.
The shade under the olive trees saved him from the burning of his skin, so after he finished bathing in the river he didn't bother getting dressed again. It was nice to just exist in one's skin, but now that was a decision he woefully regretted. He may be irritated with Atsumu but his cock never got the memo.
Finally letting his eyes slide over to the golden-haired man that had captured his heart without trying, he was a goner. The sun made Atsumu glow, the divine lineage that flowed through his veins apparent as he seemed to almost be too beautiful to look at directly in the morning sunlight. Just like that Kiyoomi could feel the way his cock twitched with interest, already half hard and Atsumu hadn’t even seen him fully.
Quickly, Kiyoomi rolled over onto his stomach, pretending to be sunbathing was better than having to explain to his best friend about his sudden arousal. “Omi omi! Why’d you miss out on breakfast…” The words died on his lips as his golden eyes traveled to the half empty platter of food that lay beside his friend. Immediately alarm bells went off, knowing Kiyoomi all too well was both a blessing and a curse. “You doing okay?”
He wasn’t dignified with an answer, instead his friend puffed out a breath of annoyance and turned his head away from him. Logically he should have pretended all was fine, that nothing had changed, and he just wanted to rest a bit. Instead, the sounds of what Bryseis moans must have sounded like, sang through his brain like the scream of one of the Erinyes, it was undeniable and strung rage through him like a lyre.
“Kiyoomi…did I do something?” There it was, a crossroad that Kiyoomi himself had created, one that would change things no matter which way he took. One way would be a confession that would have stayed dead and buried, the other the acknowledgement that Kiyoomi lied to him. Atsumu was too kind to say anything but he would know, and that would eat away at him.
Instead, the man turned his head to face his best friend, the golden-haired man that he’d been in love with since they were young children. “What happened last night?” It was straight forward and only slightly accusatory, but still there was a tone there, one that they both heard.
Kiyoomi Sakusa was jealous.
Atsumu was already having trouble focusing, his posture rigid and his eyes set on the river instead of his naked best friend lying on the riverbank. The worry from not finding Omi at breakfast melted away as he let himself bask in the beauty that was his best friend. Kiyoomi was beautiful without ever trying, sun-kissed skin that was littered with scars from battle. Dark raven black hair that seemed to contract his breathtaking eyes almost too perfectly. Had Atsumu been told that Kiyoomi was also of divine blood he would have believed them without a moment's hesitation.
Even now with the irritated furrow in his brow and the hardened look in his eyes, Kiyoomi was just so beautiful. “What happened last night?”
The question was a splash of cold water against Atsumu's skin, the guild now alive and well in his chest as he remembered Bryseis. Normally friends would be able to share strange stories like that, but instead Atsumu’s tongue was as dry as sandpaper, the words caught in his through like a chunk of bread. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to tell Omi what happened, but if he didn’t then it would be even stranger.
Atsumu took a deep breath and smiled, he did his best to tell the story of what happened in one fell swoop and as nonchalantly as possible. He didn’t get stuck on any details, but he also didn’t explain too many details either. There was a bit of wishful thinking as he spoke, the prayer that Omi wouldn't press him for details, that he wouldn’t find it strange that Atsumu turned down Bryseis.
“Why must you lie to me?”
Of all the things he imagined, that wasn’t one of them. Kiyoomi’s glare was hot with anger, a clear sense of betrayal thick in the air as Atsumu look upon him in utter shock. There wasn’t a single time that he had ever lied to him, and yes still he accused him of doing so now. There was something else there, something sitting just beneath the surface of that anger, and Atsumu needed to know what it was.
“I have never once lied to you, Omi. Nor will I ever for as long as my body takes a breath.”
Kiyoomi looked away then, his face twisting in a mix of emotions, phases of them passing over his features too quickly for Atsumu to decipher. It was almost as if a part of him was fighting to believe Atsumu, but the other part of him was in pain. There wasn’t a single moment in his life when he wished to hide something from Kiyoomi outside of his feelings, so he didn’t understand where this was coming from.
“I heard Bryseis talking outside my tent this morning. The little vulture was very quick to sing about her wondrous time with you last night. How you made her your official war bride, how you were a god in–”
Before Atsumu could think, before he could comprehend what had happened, he was moving. Suddenly he was face to face with Kiyoomi, his large hands gripping those thin wrists of his as if he could press the very truth of his words into Kiyoomi’s skin. “Nothing happened. I promise nothing happened between Bryseis and I.” He knew he didn’t need to promise, there wasn’t some underlying feeling sitting in Omi’s chest that was jealous in a romantic sense. Still, Atsumu’s love for his best friend slowed like a smoldering ember, and he didn’t want it to go out just yet.
“Why are you always like this! It’s so frustrating…” Kiyoomi couldn’t meet his eyes then, his cheeks flushed a delicate pink as Atsumu continued to hold him close.
If he were honest, he didn’t want to let him go. He wanted to hold him just like this for as long as Kiyoomi would allow him to. When the words finally registered Atsumu was even more confused than before, the hostility not matching with any of the other times that Kiyoomi had gotten irritated with him. Instead of letting him go, Atsumu brought him closer, pulling his long body into his lap and trying no to think of his nakedness.
“Tell me what’s going on Omi.” When he said this, Atsumu placed his hand on the other cheek, caressing his skin like it was made of the world's finest silk. The moment was intimate, a small bubble of privacy being created between them as he awaited the other's answer.
Still Kiyoomi tried to look away from him, his cheeks turning from a flushing pink to a bright red under Atsumu’s golden gaze. There was a want gripping his heart, one that he had promised to never speak into existence, but still here in the bubble that want was screaming in his very blood to be released. Kiyoomi tried to form the words in his mind, tried to grit past the agony of possibly losing the most important person in his life because of this.
Fuck it.
Finally turning his head to Atsumu, Kiyoomi raised his naked form up just enough to press his lips to the other. It was a small kiss, light and soft with the opportunity for Atsumu to finally turn away from him. He would have to after this, their friendship forever changed and marred with the stupid decision Kiyoomi had made on that day, but he didn’t.
Instead, his golden-haired best friend groaned into his mouth as if he were waiting for exactly this for so long. Without a thread of hesitation Atsumu gently held the back of Omi’s neck, pressing into the kiss as if it was his last dying wish on earth. It wasn’t long until their lips parted, those soft chaste kisses quickly drowning in the decade's worth of bottled passion they had both hidden for so long. In a single moment it was like a dam had broken, the rushing waves of desire pulsing like a living thing as it crashed into them over and over again.
Atsumu was all too aware of Kiyoomi’s nakedness, of the way his cock was hard and pressing against Atsumu’s belly as if it demanded to be known. Still, he didn't want the night he’d always dreamed of to be on the riverbank, instead he would take care of him.
Kiyoomi must have had a similar thought as he reached between them to move away the layers of clothing Atsumu still wore. When he pulled away his lips were swollen, those dark eyes dripping with lust as he whispered against Atsumu’s lips. “Oil.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, reaching over for the oils Kiyoomi usually used after his bath in the river. It was fast, the oil being spread on his fingers, Kiyoomi covering his mouth with his own as he guided Atsumu’s hand. It wasn’t long before Atsumu’s large hand wrapped around both of their cocks tightly, the delicious fiction almost feeling like too much as Kiyoomi started to move.
It was beyond beauty, watching Kiyoomi take his pleasure as he wanted, his hips rolling against Atsumu in a smooth rhythm that prolonged their desire. Omi then guided Atsumu’s other hand to his cheek, setting the pad of Atsumu’s thumb in his mouth as he quickened his pace. Atsumu felt like he was in a dream, the person he never thought would want him like this, the person he’d loved for so long was now touching him just as he’d always wanted.
Atsumu tightened his grip on their cocks as Kiyoomi started to inch them both closer to the edge of release, his eyes glossy and lost in the passion that consumed his body. When they both were close, the sounds of their moans getting loud even for the riverbank Atsumu pulled Kiyoomi down into one final kiss. The pleasure spilling in ropes across their chests and neither seemed to care as they kissed and panted in the afterglow.
When they both lay in the grass, their smiles mirrored in the other as the truth of their affections swirled around them like a blissful cloud, Atsumu wanted to say it. “I’ve always loved you Kiyoomi Sakusa.”
Those dark eyes widened for a moment, the truth falling on his ears carefully before a wave of tears gathered on his lashes. “And I you, Atsumu Miya.” He leaned forward to kiss Atsumu again, pulling them back into their little bubble of contentment, ignoring the war that still raged on and the battles they still had yet to win.
Here it was only them, and they wanted it to stay that way for a while.