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Toge closes his eyes in feign prayer and counts in his head until it’s time to lift his head. No one notices that he’s faking. No one takes notice of his false faith in this monastery. It’s clear that over the years that he’s been here, he’s perfected the art of defiance.
Above him is a shrine to the gods of good, those who fight against demonic, cursed powers and punish heathens. He feels nothing as he stares at the gods because it is their fault he is here, in this monastery, devoting his life to them. It is their fault that he has been robbed of having a normal life, full of the small pleasures, reading, and even lounging around. It was all taken from him the day his parents brought him to this wicked monastery.
He was born under the evil eye, according to those who attended his birth, branded with sigils on his face to make it known by a priest. No one can hide from the gods, and those born under evil can only wish to live a life worthy so their sins are forgiven, or so he is told.
Toge thinks it ridiculous that he is paying for sins he acquired when he was just a baby, but what he thinks and believes is irrelevant to the path that’s been chosen for his life. His parents, wealthy merchants, were seen as extremely devout for giving their oldest and only son to the religion. Their religion promises them saving in the afterlife for the sacrifice they’ve made.
He’s been here at this monastery, in the countryside, since he was a young boy, living the same day over and over again while he wonders what the meaning of life is. Surely, it cannot be this, a place full of misery, where he was forced to take a vow of silence.
They all believe him to be devout, pure despite his sins, but they do not know him. He does not believe, and if it were possible to leave, he would do it. He would leave and never look back, and would burn this place to the ground if given the chance, especially those in charge who’ve made sure to make his life miserable.
He took a vow of silence because of his sin, yet in the shadow of night, he’ll whisper to himself and break it, something that would surely get him whipped until the marks were forever embedded on his skin.
Breaking the vow of silence to himself is the only control he has left here. He can slowly feel himself going mad, the longer he is here, slowly fading into the background as life passes by him. Everything that he once enjoyed is forbidden; there are no celebrations, only prayer, and service. Even the food is bland.
On occasion, he will be assigned to care for the flowers that decorate the entrance that welcomes visitors. The flowers linger just behind the heathen, and it’s there that Toge overhears whispers of heathens invading nearby lands, killing those in their path, and sealing riches.
His interest is piqued, to say the least, the bed of flowers long forgotten as he listens. It is said they take everything and leave nothing but destruction in their wake, that they worship false gods, and are led by the demonic curses. They carry weapons and paint their faces, surely demonic, sent by the gods that Toge is meant to worship as a test of faith.
They are said to come by large boats from somewhere across the sea. They wear armor, take what they wan,t and do not listen to reason. It is a fate worse than death to encounter them.
Surely, if the heathens are causing such havoc, the emperor would’ve been alerted, so Toge thinks as he turns back to the flowers.
At dinner that night, after they finish their nightly prayer, those in charge of the monastery tell the monks that everyone must pray to the gods for repentance of the heathens, salvation for those who have died, and the safety of their monastery. This is how they fight, and Toge finds it ridiculous.
Fear quickly seeps into those around Toge, even if they try and hide it as they eat their bland dinner. The leaders act as if they are not afraid, but Toge has come to learn their mannerisms over the year,s and it’s clear to him that fear lingers inside them as well.
Toge is not afraid, if anything, he’s intrigued by the heathens. He has heard of these heathens once before, back when he was a boy, and his father had encountered one on a journey. His father believed Toge was born under the evil eye because of his crossing with the heathens.
That night, Toge does not find sleep, too busy staring at the ceiling as he thinks of the heathens. It is possible that they bring nothing but destruction in their wake, but it is also a possibility that they bring excitement, something new.
Toge’s eyes glisten at the possibilities, let them be good or bad, he welcomes them with open arms. They bring with them a better fate than staying here; anything is better than being here, locked away as if he were a caged bird.
A week later, a distraught man comes with news of a raid on a monastery to the east, two days' journey from where Toge is located. There were hardly any survivors, and those who did make it are barely alive.
Toge envies them as he listens from where he cleans the floors on his knees, for at least the survivors are free now of this life, free of their worship of these gods, while he’s kept here, cleaning because of a punishment. It is his fault he was punished; he should know better now than to disobey, but it is his acts of disobedience that remind him he is still his own person.
The leaders keep pretending it is all fine, that their gods will protect them from the heathens, but Toge takes notice of how they order the reinforcement of the gates. He takes notice of them hiding the status of their gods made of gold and silver, all while telling the monks that there is nothing to fear but fear itself.
Toge knows his monastery is home to some of the oldest, expensive statues, and knows they were given a large sum by Toge’s parents when he was taken in. If the heathens are after riches, this would be the place to strike.
It is that same day, in the dark of night, when Toge decides to sneak away from his bed and venture out toward the fields. It’s soon after their last prayer and following a late bath.
His bed is a poor excuse for a bed, anyhow, and often leaves his back aching. He longs for the bed he had as a child, before he was brought here. His father was a wealthy man, and Toge recalls the comforts they had when he still lived with his family. There were no bland meals and no harsh punishments. Despite being born under the evil eye, his parents loved him immensely, but not enough to keep him.
He walks barefoot through the dorms meant for sleeping, passing all the sleeping monks. He is graceful with his movements, having learned young that getting caught meant getting punished. He only made the mistake of getting caught sneaking out once, and now, he roams the outside in peace every once in a while, once everyone has gone to bed or gone to do their nightly duties. Only the faint scars remain in memory of that.
The spring air greets him as he steps outside, through the secured gate, and heads toward the fields. Those meant to keep watch do not see him, too busy praying in the late night for protection over the heathens.
Toge makes his way down toward the stream without even a glance back, letting the moonlight guide him. It is a small trek, but worth the journey since it assures him no one will catch him out this late. Luckily for him, villagers who once inhabited lands nearby have fled out of fear.
Even if anyone were to catch Toge out this late, he would not care. He stopped caring long ago.
He wears nothing but a nightgown as he moves, nothing compared to the bulky, oversized robe he wears during the day, even in the heat, where pushing the sleeves up is considered scandalous.
At this moment, Toge is free. There is no one to scold him or to force him into prayer. Right now, he is not cursed and ordered to repent. Here, he belongs to himself.
He has thought about running, but he has nothing to his name, and surely his family would be disgraced once they learned the news. His capture would be ordered, and he would be sent somewhere worse. He cannot risk that, not while those at the monastery could report him.
Toge pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind once he reaches the stream. He sits on the bank, thrusting his feet into the water. The stars reflect on the surface of the water, so beautifully that Toge cannot help but admire them.
He looks up toward the sky, and that’s when he takes notice of something not quite right off in the far distance.
There is fire.
Toge stands and tries to focus his eyes on the fire. There should not be fire in the distance. No one lives that way any more, at least not close enough for their fire to be visible. It is coming from the direction the man came to deliver the news, from where the heathens supposedly have raided.
He knows he should head back to the monastery and warn someone. Fire means danger this late at night, but Toge finds that he cannot move, not out of fear but rather out of something else, something that urges him to go take a look for himself.
It is a bad idea. He has no weapon, no fighting skills, and only a nightgown, but despite it all, he heads toward the fire, keeping his wits about him as he gets closer.
He stays near the trees, keeping himself hidden as he moves. The closer he gets to the fire, the rowdier the air becomes.
It all comes into view then, a large group of warriors, all decked out in armour and swords. They’re tall in size and build, and are nothing like what Toge has ever seen before; they’re all heathen and vicious as they congregate around the fire, eating food Toge has only dreamt of and passing the time with stories and laughter. Their horses are kept tied in the distance, near all the treasure they’ve managed to acquire.
Toge digs his fingers into the bark of the tree, watching the heathens. He wonders where they’re from, now that he’s seen them with his own eyes. He thought them to be nothing more than a farce told by the leaders of the monastery and his father, but the heathens live and breathe. They’re real.
He knows the language they speak; he learned it as a boy from the tutor his family hired, but does not speak it. Now, books and lessons regarding anything but religion are forbidden. Still, he recalls it, recalls those memories that feel like they’re from another life of a man teaching him these words.
Toge learns of their plans to head in his monastery’s direction before splitting into two groups, one that’ll head back to their home and another that will travel more inland toward the capital city where the emperor resides. It’s a little difficult for him to understand them at first, given how long it’s been since he heard this language, but slowly he manages to piece everything together.
It is rumored that the emperor fears the heathens and keeps his armies in the capital city to protect him, leaving everyone else to fend for themselves. His fears aren’t in vain, apparently, and a sick part of Toge can’t help but chuckle at that and at the silly leaders of his monastery who think their emperor will come and protect them.
He should head back and warn everyone, it is the right thing to do, but then he recalls the way everyone has treated him and the punishments he’s endured at their hands. He bears scars because of it and often wakes up soaked in sweat from the nightmares.
He decides that he’ll watch this play out at first, and then he’ll act, if he decides to act at all.
It is much later in the night when the heathens go to sleep. Some of them stay up to guard but don’t seem to take their position too seriously. It’s not shocking, given how easily the heathens have pushed through these lands. There are no soldiers to stop them, all too busy congregating in the capital city to guard the emperor.
Toge decides it’s time to head back. The monks rise early, and it would do him no favors to get caught right now.
He walks back to the monastery the way he came, sticking close to the trees and keeping vigilant. It would’ve all been fine had Toge not stumbled upon one of the guards for the heathens who is keeping watch.
It’s a man, tall, with jaw-length black hair, and a katana slung across his back. He bears scars all over, reminding Toge of his own. Despite the man’s appearance, there is a soft smile on his face as he leans against a tree and watches some animals off in the distance. He’s oblivious to Toge at the moment, or so it seems.
Toge cannot help but stare at the man, enthralled, forgetting for a moment what could happen if this man catches him. Rationality is hard to find, and despite knowing better, Toge slowly moves toward the man, wanting to get a closer look.
It is only fair, after all. There might not be another chance to see him again once Toge departs. It could be true that these heathens are headed toward Toge’s monastery, but they could very well be headed back toward the ocean, given how much treasure they seem to have gathered.
The closer Toge gets, the more features he’s able to make out on the man. His curiosity deepens, and his interest comes to life. It has been so long since he’s seen someone who interests him.
He’s been surrounded by the same people in the monastery since he was a child, and those who do come are always older. It’s never women. Their religion condemns relationships and lust of the same sex, things Toge has never agreed with. He isn’t naive; he knows he feels the way he does because it applies to him.
Toge has known for years that he craves, desperately, to know men carnally. Often, he fantasizes about it in the night, when no one lingers or when he’s in the bath. It is forbidden and a sin, but sin is not new to him, so he does not let it perturb him.
This man before him, he is the embodiment of many of Toge’s desires, wrapped in human flesh and brought to life. For a moment, Toge does not see someone he should fear, no, he sees his demise.
The guard seems unfazed as Toge stares from the trees. If he notices the monk, he does not make it known because eventually, he falls asleep, right on the ground, leaning against a tree.
The man sleeps with an arm thrown over his eyes, katana long forgotten beside him. It is clear he does not worry about someone attacking him in his sleep.
Toge tries to be rational, but cannot help his curiosity the longer he stares at the man. There is a fire burning in the pit of his stomach as he stares at the man, quickly growing and spreading through him, leaving him bothered.
Slowly, Toge sneaks forward, trying to conceal every step. The hem of his nightgown is dirty, stained from the mud and grass, but he disregards it for now, knowing he’ll have to stop and clean it before returning to the monastery later.
He drops to his knees beside the man, gazing at him and studying every part of his face. He’s enthralled, especially with the man’s scars, given that they resemble his. He has not met many people with scars despite living in a place full of monks. Most of them obey, it is mainly Toge that rebels and gets punished. He has been made an example of far too many times.
In spite of knowing better, Toge reaches forward and touches the man’s face with the back of his knuckles. It’s a gentle touch but makes the man’s eyes, vivid blue, open and turn sharp as they stare at Toge. It’s clear now that the man wasn’t truly sleeping; he was merely pretending, and now, Toge has fallen for his ploy.
Toge clenches his teeth and hisses as he falls back in surprise, but to his shock, he doesn’t meet the ground. The man has a hand wrapped tightly around Toge’s wrist, keeping him in place.
“I wondered when you would come out of hiding,” the man whispers. “What is a monk doing out at this hour?”
Toge pulls on the man’s hold, but it doesn’t budge; if anything, it tightens. For a moment, the touch burns but only because i,t has been so long since Toge has felt the touch of another like this. He hadn’t realized how starved for it he had been.
A soft sound drops from Toge’s mouth, mostly out of surprise but partially in longing for something that is considered sinful for him and his life of virtue.
The man’s expression turns from one of suspicion to one of disbelief.
“Why were you spying on me, monk?” The man whispers, bringing Toge closer to him with the hold on his wrist. “Tell me.”
Toge shakes his head, trying to think of what to do. He cannot speak this man’s lang,uage but he understands it, knows it mostly because his father lived in fear after his encounter with them.
Suspecting the man’s patience must be running thin, Toge reaches and grabs the man’s hand with his free one, bringing it down to his lap where he lays it palm up. Then, using all of his concentration, he uses his pointer finger to trace characters into the man’s rough palm, repeating it a few times to make sure he got it right.
Not spying, just curious.
The man’s eyes widen in surprise as Toge traces the characters, but he doesn’t release Toge’s wrist.
“Curious,” the man repeats.
Toge nods and keeps tracing characters on the man’s hand. The man’s palm is rough; it’s a good feeling. I’ve never seen a man like you before.
“Everyone we have come across here runs away in fear, yet here you are, walking toward me,” the man points out. “You are not afraid,” he whispers, as if seeing right through Toge.
No, just curious, Toge restates. You’re different.
The man’s eyes fill with mirth as he pulls Toge closer to get a better look at him, bringing Toge to his knees and staining the nightgown further. “You’re truly a monk?”
Toge nods.
“You’re different from the other monks I’ve encountered,” the man admits, finally releasing Toge’s wrist and settling it on his waist instead. “For one, you seem to understand me. Why is that?”
The man’s touch burns through Toge’s nightgown, as if branding him. It takes everything within Toge not to lean into the touch.
My father taught me, Toge reveals. It was before I became a monk.
The man hums. “Did he now?”
Toge nods, swallowing as the man’s hold on his waist gets tighter. It’s making him lightheaded the longer it goes on, making him want more. It is such debauchery, but he cannot stop himself; he doesn’t want to stop himself.
Much to Toge’s despair, the man releases his waist and moves his hand up until it’s cupping Toge’s face and tilting it around, assessing it in the moonlight.
“You are bewitching,” the man confesses, running his thumb over Toge’s lips. “I can hardly believe you’re a monk,” he whispers, pressing his thumb harder.
Toge’s eyes glaze over.
“What’s your name?”
Toge grabs the man’s hand and once again traces on his palm, except this time, he drops the man’s hand right into his lap, close to his growing arousal.
He traces the characters and then speaks it softly. It feels strange, given how long it’s been since he’s said it. When he became a monk, he was given a new man, one he had never accepted.
Toge.
“Toge,” the man says, looking at Toge’s mouth. “My name is Yuuta.”
Toge says the name, causing Yuuta’s thumb to scrape against his teeth. He waits to see Yuuta’s reaction and, to his pleasure, finds want lingering in Yuuta’s eyes that mirrors his own.
It’s the motivation he needs to wrap his lips around Yuuta’s thumb and suck it, slowly giving into his desire. It is so freeing, having the choice to act on this after being restricted for so long.
Yuuta smiles as he watches Toge work his thumb, eyes shining. Toge takes it as further motivation to lick the thumb while he sucks it, pressing further into Yuuta’s space.
“You are different,” Yuuta confesses, pressing his thumb down onto Toge’s tongue, prying Toge’s lips apart. “I like it, I like it so much.”
Toge leans further into Yuuta’s space, eager for more, desperate really, and Yuuta welcomes him. He straddles Yuuta’s lap, enjoying the feel of the armor against his bare legs. He should feel dirty, sitting here on this man’s lap, barely clothed, but instead, he feels full of lust, practically bursting at the seams.
Then, they’re kissing, slow at first until Toge gets the hang of it. He’s never been kissed, has only dreamt of it, and he quickly finds that he enjoys it. He likes being kissed by the heathen, it’s all teeth and tongue, making Toge rut in his lap.
He moans as Yuuta’s tongue pushes further into his mouth and licks over his tongue. The position they’re in pushes Toge’s dirty nightgown up his thighs, and Yuuta is quick to take advantage by placing his hands on Toge’s bare thighs, squeezing and digging his fingers into the skin.
Yuuta’s touch is addictive, rough yet possessive as his hands wander. Toge is growing oddly possessive of this man, far too quickly to be rational, but finds that he cannot stop it. It’s spreading through him, consuming him, the longer this man kisses and touches him.
Toge didn’t understand how to reciprocate the kiss at first, but he learned fairly quickly, and now, he’s taking over. Yuuta is a good teacher, going slow at first until Toge begins to mimic him then, he’s biting Toge’s lips, making the monk hiss from the sensation.
Their kissing is a messy affair, with drool leaking out of the sides of Toge’s mouth and his hands gripping Yuuta’s chest and hair. He smiles against Yuuta’s lips, licking anywhere he can reach inside the heathen’s mouth, desperate for more.
He moans when Yuuta sucks on his tongue and moves his hands to grip Toge’s bare backside, rough palms sliding over his skin before digging his fingers into the flesh.
No one has ever touched Toge there, like this, so desperately. It makes Toge’s already hard cock throb and leak further. He ruts faster, needier, and Yuuta’s grip on him tightens as he helps the monk grind against him.
Toge lets himself explore Yuuta further, much to Yuuta’s approval. He runs his hands all over Yuuta’s pecs and toned shoulders, pulling at his top and bunching it between his fingers. His hands pull on Yuuta’s hair to make the man groan as they kiss.
Then, to Toge’s disappointment, Yuuta pulls away. It must be evident on his face because Yuuta shushes him and proceeds to toss off his armor in a few quick moves, leaving himself only in his top and pants.
He’s quick to open his pants, letting his cock spring free. It’s a massive thing, hard and leaking, and Toge can’t help but stare down at it as he gets back into position on Yuuta’s lap.
Toge reaches down and grabs it, wrapping his hands around it. Yuuta covered it in slippery oil, making it easy for Toge to stroke it.
“Come here,” Yuuta orders, pulling Toge back into another kiss.
Toge keeps his hands on Yuuta’s cock, far too enthralled to let go. Yuuta doesn’t seem to mind, groaning whenever Toge touches him in a way he enjoys.
Yuuta rummages for something as they kiss, and Toge is too busy to care, happy to be kissed and touching the heathen with great delight. He’s finding everything about Yuuta addicting, even the smell of his musk. He could bury himself in it and die a happy death.
His attention is quickly diverted elsewhere when Yuuta pushes Toge’s nightgown up and wraps slippery fingers, coated in a liquid, around Toge’s cock. The touch makes Toge moan, lewd and soft. He hasn’t ever been touched there by someone else before, has only dreamt about it time and time again, and he’s finding that he likes it a lot.
It’s delightful, almost pushing him over the edge and making him pant. Yuuta keeps kissing him, sucking on his bottom lip while Toge whines.
Yuuta’s touch is made even better by the slippery liquid coating Yuuta’s fingers. It makes the slide easier and smoother, almost making Toge’s heart give out from the feeling. His toes curl and he’s so lost in Yuuta’s touch that he lets go of the man’s cock.
Things only get better when Yuuta wraps his slippery hands around both of them. He’s bigger than Toge, making Toge’s mouth water at the thought of it inside him, connecting them and making them one. Such debaucherous thoughts, but he doesn’t care, not when they could soon become a reality.
Yuuta jerks them off together, rubbing their cocks against one another. It’s a messy affair, one Toge would like to experience again in the future.
Toge falls into Yuuta’s chest and buries his face in Yuuta’s neck, inhaling the man’s musk as if it were his vice. He has never smelt anything better and never will again so he makes sure to run his tongue over Yuuta’s neck and suck the skin into his mouth, trying to embed it to memory.
He’s content like this, lost in pleasure. He could stay here forever, and it would never be enough. He needs more, needs anything and everything Yuuta is willing to offer him. He’s been a caged bird for so long, finally experiencing freedom at the hands of this man.
After tonight, there’s no way he could go back to normal life, not when he’s seen what life has to offer beyond the walls of the monastery. He’d sooner see that place burn to the ground and become nothing but ashes than return.
A moan is punched out of him when Yuuta’s slick fingers move to rub at Toge’s rim, slow and patient. It’s a touch he’d never expected, but finds himself chasing after the longer Yuuta touches him there, and eventually manages to insert thick, long fingers inside him.
Once the fingers enter him, Toge cums all over them, lewd sounds falling from his lips like rain. Yuuta leans down to kiss him again, hungry this time and Toge’s cock quickly hardens again, it is as eager as its owner for more.
Toge rocks his hips back and forth, chasing after Yuuta’s fingers as they’re thrusted in and out of him. He must look manic, but he does not care. He has never felt more alive than he does right now, being taken in the woods by this heathen of a man. His mouth waters whenever their cocks brush together as Toge moves his hips.
“Open,” Yuuta whispers, running his fingers through both of their mess of cum and bringing his cum-covered fingers to Toge’s lips while he keeps thrusting into Toge with his other hand.
Toge parts his lips and laps at the fingers, much to Yuuta’s delight.
Yuuta looks at him as if he’s something rare. No one has ever looked at Toge in such a way. It’s addictive, and he finds that he never wants it to end. He likes this, likes being special.
He pulls Yuuta back in for a kiss, whining into it when Yuuta pulls his fingers out of Toge’s hole. It’s then that Toge feels the fingers replaced by something different, something hot and hard.
Toge braces as Yuuta rubs the tip over his hole, smearing his cum everywhere as if he were claiming the monk. The thought makes Toge tighten his hold on Yuuta, wanting that to be the case. He wants to be wanted so badly, wants to be taken from this place and never return.
“Yuuta,” Toge moans, burying his face in Yuuta’s neck, lapping his tongue over the skin again.
He mumbles more wants in his native tongue that Yuuta can’t understand, still the heathen seems to get the message as he fucks the head of his cock in and out of Toge.
Yuuta groans at the breech, going slow, and giving Toge a moment to adjust.
The feeling is strange but good, and once Toge has adjusted, he grinds his hips, eager for more.
Toge nods against Yuuta’s neck, grinding his hips back again, and Yuuta receives the order loud and clear.
Then, Toge’s world is turned upside down when Yuuta turns him around in his lap. He pushes Toge forward onto the ground on all fours, spreading his legs and running hands all over Toge’s body as if branding him with his touch. Toge nearly cums again from that.
Toge braces, nightgown ruined, as Yuuta sits up on his knees behind the monk. His fingers sink into the ground as Yuuta thrusts back into him, nearly knocking the air from his lungs from the pace.
Profanities drip from Yuuta’s mouth as well as words of praise. Toge wishes they were being delivered into his mouth, wishes they were kissing again, but this is just as good.
Yuuta thrusts into him at a fast speed, making Toge’s knees scrape against the ground and drool leak from his mouth. The man’s hands grip Toge’s hips hard enough to leave marks, pulling Toge back as he slams in again and again.
The hold feels possessive, but perhaps it’s just Toge’s mind playing tricks on him. Regardless, he likes it, likes this heathen far too much for his own good. He pushes his backside back with every thrust, making Yuuta groan and speed up, much to Toge’s delight. Their skin slaps together, loud in the night, and Toge whines at that, wanting people to know almost.
Toge wants this to happen again. The mere thought of never seeing Yuuta again is unsettling, and he cannot let that happen. He refuses to let life rip this from him after everything that’s happened to him, not after he’s experienced how good getting fucked can be by a beast of a man.
The thought of someone else doing this with Yuuta makes Toge go mad with rage. That can’t happen, no, no.
“Settle,” Yuuta orders, pressing his chest to Toge’s back as he climbs over the monk and slows his thrusts.
Now, every thrust is deep and slow, making Toge’s eyes roll into the back of his head.
Yuuta doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop when Toge cums again, much to Toge’s delight. Eventually, he sits back and pulls Toge back into his lap and fucks him again, holding the monk up by the back of the thighs and bringing him up and down.
Toge nearly screams from how much pleasure that brings him. His head hangs, and he whines when Yuuta mouths at his nape, pressing teeth into the skin. He’s crying, overfucked, and still eager for more. This man has ruined him in the best way.
He turns his head for a kiss, and Yuuta is quick to capture his lips. It’s slow and messy this time, but Toge loves it all the same, moaning happily when Yuuta bites him. He braces his hands against Yuuta’s arms and digs his fingernails in, desperate to leave a mark of his own on his man.
Afterwards, near dawn, Yuuta fixes Toge’s nightgown and helps him stand.
“Come with me,” Yuuta proposes. “Do not choose death, such as the others from these lands have chosen.”
Toge blinks, not believing Yuuta’s proposal. He’s tired and too fucked out, with Yuuta’s cum running down his legs and Yuuta’s bites aching on his skin.
“You do not have to decide at this moment,” Yuuta reassures him, bringing Toge back in for one last kiss before sending him on his way. “Soon.”
Toge moves in a haze as he heads home, nightgown ruined, knees scraped, and lips raw. He does not hide anymore, does not care who sees him, too busy, lost in thought regarding what Yuuta said to him.
When he arrives at the monastery, they pull him in before locking the gates. There are screams of panic as they look him over. They assume the heathens took him by force and have damned him because of it, believing they snuck in at night when most of them slept.
Toge does not answer, barely blinks.
The leaders are disgusted by him, but Toge does not care. They order him to be punished, much to the horror of the other monks. The leaders won’t hear it, claiming Toge’s sins have shown themselves again. He was born under the evil eye, after all, destined for nothing holy.
Then, in the distance, chaos approaches.
Toge knows those shouts; he heard them last night.
The heathens are coming.
The monks panic and scream, some crying, when the leaders order them to man the gates and keep the heathens out. The leaders, such cowards, run to hide with the treasures of this place.
Toge stands back, gazing through the small gaps in the gate as he sees the heathens approach. They must’ve followed his trail to this place when he left.
Yuuta leads them, and he stares at the gates as if searching for something.
Toge steps toward the gates, ignoring the monks who order him to get back for his safety. He does not care, not when Yuuta awaits on the other side of the gates.
He peers through one of the larger gaps and meets Yuuta’s gaze.
Yuuta’s expression turns from one of concentration to one of mesmerization. He hops off his horse, wearing his armor, and reaches a hand forward.
Toge doesn’t even think twice before moving to open the gate. The monks try to stop him, screaming and crying in fear, but they can’t stop him, not when he knows every part of this monastery, it has been his prison since he was young, after all. They’ve all played a part in his sadness, his punishments, and suffering.
He doesn’t care about them, not when Yuuta is here, waiting for him.
This is the only opportunity he’ll ever get to escape without repercussions, and he’s going to take it. He wants to watch this place burn to the ground until nothing remains because only then will he be free.
Toge opens the gates, and within a second, the heathens flood in, some on horseback and others running. Immediately, chaos erupts as monks run and hide while the heathens begin to loot.
In the midst of it all, arms pull Toge in, and a familiar musk wraps around Toge.
Mine, Toge thinks to himself as he presses his face into Yuuta’s chest and grips the man’s armor.