Chapter Text
It turned out, Domas thought, that Hokuro approached love-making much like any other task - dutifully, passionately, and whatever lack of skill or technique he suffered from, he more than made up for it with earnest enthusiasm.
His mind drifted lazily, still riding the blissful high from their coupling. Their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly; if he was more of a romantic he would have guessed they were made for each other. Domas was tall, broad shouldered and with a trim waist - a striking figure further complimented by his high cheekbones and strawberry blonde hair.
Hokuro was at least half a head shorter, with curly blonde hair that shone like golden wheat, and a thick body that only a life of living in the rural countryside could bring. His apple cheeks and brilliant smile hid an incredible strength and conviction, one that Domas had been humbled and blessed enough to witness.
Okay, maybe he was a little bit of a romantic.
The feeling of Hokuro's gentle touch brushing his hair from his sweat-damp forehead brought his attention back to earth.
"Copper for your thoughts?" Hokuro asked quietly. Domas slowly turned his head to look at him. The rest of his body was still reeling from the mind-blowing orgasm Hokuro had wrung out of him. He had clung desperately to the shorter man as he rode him, Hokuro peppering his face with tender kisses and loving whispers as Domas panted and gasped in his lap. His spent cock twitched between his legs.
“Trust me, you’d be broke with the state I’m in right now.” Hokuro gave a breathy laugh and playfully swatted Domas on his chest.
“Don’t say things like that, Master Domas,” he kindly chided. “You’ve got to be nicer to yourself. You promised me.” He actually did promise Hokuro; if left to his own devices he would bury himself within a cocoon of self-loathing. It was amazing how much he owed that man.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He shut his eyes. He could feel Hokuro’s hand on his forehead again, and relished in the feeling of his fingers gliding down over his jawline, down his neck and finally settling onto his broad chest, followed by the rest of his muscular arm. The intimacy made his throat tighten.
Sure, Domas had prestige, fame, and a privileged upbringing, but if Hokuro knew just how much power he had over him…
Eyes still closed, he rolled onto his side and buried his face in Hokuro’s muscular chest. He could feel the other mans’ arm around his waist tighten, his other hand coming up to idly play with Domas’ silken hair. He felt Hokuro’s lips move against his hairline.
“You sure you’re okay? I can hear you thinking." Domas kept his eyes closed, savouring the scent of his partner.
"I'm thinking about you, actually." He felt Hokuro's breath hitch. "I'm thinking about how lucky I am to have met you. I'm thinking about how… how I don't deserve you."
It was bizarre how love made one feel - Domas had never felt so protected, yet simultaneously so vulnerable. He figured that if Hokuro were to ever turn on him (gods forbid), he wouldn’t mind being struck down by the other man. There was some sort of irony about that he couldn’t quite muster the brainpower to identify, but still something akin to a sick sense of satisfaction and cosmic justice.
Domas felt his face heat up, but kept his eyes closed. His left hand traced over the large scar on Hokuro's solar plexus, eventually dragging his fingers to a small set of thin scars on his abdomen. He had gotten them as a child, he had explained one night. He was chasing some small animal around and ended up falling down into a ravine, only to meet the business end of several blackberry bushes. Luckily a host of scratches and a torn shirt was the worst of it; children were shockingly resilient.
Prince Bojji’s gleeful face popped into his mind. He had left not two weeks ago on his new adventure to establish a new kingdom after relinquishing the throne back to Price Daida.
He hoped Bojji was reunited with Master Kage.
He really hoped no one else had booted them down a cliff.
Domas gave a wet sniffle as Hokuro started threading his calloused fingers through his fine hair. Hokuro gave an affectionate sigh and kissed the top of his head. “It’s not a matter of being deserving or not,” he said earnestly. “I’m here with you because, well…I love you.”
Domas gave a shuddering breath, trying to calm his breathing. He loathed how he got so emotional over everything - Hokuro, bless him, had simply said that Domas cared so much about everything that he couldn’t contain it. ‘Your heart is so full that it spills over to your eyes,’ he had remarked. ‘You care about this kingdom and its people way more than you want to admit. That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Master Domas!’
Hokuro had said it was one of his more endearing qualities.
Was that when he realized he had fallen in love?
No, definitely before that. Exactly when, he couldn’t say.
He felt the pleased rumble from within Hokuro’s chest as he began trailing kisses up his stomach, sucking and nibbling the tanned skin. Domas relished in detecting when the other mans’ breathing began to pick up as he reached down with his left hand to gently massage the tender skin between Hokuro’s thighs.
“M-Master Domas…” he stuttered, his voice husky.
Swordmaster Domas of The Big Four was a man of action, of doing . He knew his strengths and weaknesses; while scholars and law makers defended the kingdom in their own way, his destiny was to be on the front lines, sword in hand. He had no eloquence with language, as his weapon more than spoke for him.
Conversely, this also meant he lacked any finesse with the written word - he possessed no silver tongue, and no honeyed love poems would ever fall from his lips. He knew Hokuro was a romantic soul, and tried his damndest to convey through actions the feelings he would never be able to put into words.
At this point, he wasn't sure if what he felt could be transcribed by any language, spoken, written or otherwise. What he felt for Hokuro went beyond anything even remotely tangible; it was love, it was adoration, it was comfort, support, passion and camaraderie. It was trust, it was safety, it was the desire to protect and be protected, to nurture and be nurtured in return.
Every one of these feelings, and all the rest he was unable to label, he sincerely hoped he was able to convey even the barest hint while he lavished attention to his lovers' body.
With his left hand still leaving feather-light touches along Hokuro's belly, Domas pulled himself up until he was nose to nose with the man underneath him. Hokuro gazed back at him, face flush and pupils blown with renewed arousal.
"... Master… Domas…"
Domas brought his other hand up to gently caress Hokuro’s face as he finally closed the distance between them. He started with chaste, loving kisses, enjoying the quiet purr from the man beneath him as he nibbled his bottom lip. When he parted, both men were panting, breathing in each other’s air.
“Hokuro…I love you.”
He would never tire of seeing the way Hokuro’s face lit up when he said that. The bashful smile, the rosy cheeks, his eyes glittering with happiness and warmth.
“I love you too, Master Domas.” Domas snorted lightly and nipped Hokuro’s chin.
“No ‘Master Domas’ when it’s just us, okay? It makes me feel…weird.” Hokuro hummed thoughtfully.
“Even when we’re training? I will say it’s a bit of a force of habit on my part, so I do apologize.” Domas continued lightly nipping and sucking at the same spot he had done so earlier. He could feel the shudder run through Hokuro’s body. Domas quirked a playful eyebrow.
“Hmm…is that what they’re calling it these days?” Hokuro gave a breathy laugh. “In that case, I think an extra training session is in order, wouldn’t you say?” He grinned wolfishly. Hokuro put on a mockingly concerned expression, but Domas could feel his body saying otherwise.
“Just don’t work me too hard, okay M-ah, Domas?” The Swordmaster leaned down and kissed him again, just because he could.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”