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Amid the din and clamor typical of a group of brigands stands their king, the most fearsome man in Iyo. Even though he only has one eye, he's known to have no blind spot. Outside, the moon blooms full and bright—an ill omen for some, but no bandit worth his salt would let something like a premonition stop him from doing as he pleases.
Choubei stands abruptly, silencing the rest of the voices.
"Listen here, men. This is my wife."
Wife?
The word ripples through the men seated at the low table as clearly as a gust of wind. To their knowledge, there has never been any sign of the formidable Bandit King Choubei having a wife. The very thought of it seems absurd. There had been some talk many years ago of him having something like a second-in-command—a long-haired man with swordsmanship not unlike that of a well-educated samurai—but those rumors have since been banished. As it stands, none of the men in the room tonight can attest to ever having seen the Bandit King rely on anyone but himself.
"She'll be serving us our food and drinks for the meeting today, but you bastards don't need’ta know anything about her other than the fact that she's mine. If you so much as try to touch her, I'll cut off your arm. If you do actually manage to touch her, I'll kill you where you stand."
Choubei's words are spoken so matter-of-factly that it takes a few moments for their meaning to sink in, and for the first time, it starts to dawn on them that this isn't just some crude type of joke. Before they can think any further on the threat, Choubei speaks up again.
"Come in, Touma."
The flickering lanterns scattered around the room seem to burn brighter when she enters, and the moonlight that streams in through the broken window bathes her in an almost ethereal glow. Dressed in a pure-white kimono, the Bandit King's wife stands out starkly from the rest of the impurity in the room. The only splash of color on her is a blood-red obi, adorned with a matching string. Despite having been warned, the men can only stare, enraptured by her beauty. Every woman they’ve seen and fought and fucked before pales in comparison to the one before them.
Bowing deeply, Touma's smooth black hair flows like a waterfall of silk down to her back, pinned up daintily by her ears. A thin braid hangs down by her left side as if to mark her as Choubei’s. When she straightens, she doesn't speak, only looks at Choubei through long, dark lashes as if awaiting further orders, a sweet, almost floral scent trailing behind her.
The same thoughts race through their minds even as they are unable to look away. How on Earth did Choubei get a hold of someone like her? And then: where has he been hiding her all this time?
When Touma was a small child, he was determined to one day marry his older brother. As his mother told him, he should find someone to marry who would love and support him for the rest of his life, and Choubei is the only constant he has ever had. Loving his nii-san is as easy as breathing. Maybe even easier.
Through all the changes they've undergone, Touma has never wavered in this one desire. If he becomes Choubei's wife, he'll be able to be with his dear older brother forever.
They’re older now, and Touma has finally reached a marriageable age. Despite having been a bandit for far longer than they had been children of a samurai, Touma finds himself clinging resolutely to the habits that had once been ingrained in him. Formal speech, proper posture, polite manners—in the early years, focusing on menial details like that had been all that kept him sane.
Even now, his brother would likely scold him for worrying about something as inane as a marriageable age. But Touma has always wanted to do things the right way in what little he still has control over, and this is perhaps the most important decision he will ever make.
And so, the day after he turns sixteen, Touma kneels before his brother, bowing his head.
“Please, nii-san, won’t you make me your bride?”
To his knowledge, Choubei has only ever slept with women, but he hasn’t ever expressed any particular distaste for men. Either way, Touma is willing to become whatever his brother desires. To live is to change; to survive is to adapt. He’ll do anything to belong to Choubei, no matter what it takes.
“Touma, the hell are you talkin’ about?” Choubei’s voice seems to have lost its usual fire, and he looks down in shock.
“I promise to make you happy for as long as I live, nii-san.”
“Oi… This isn’t the kinda thing you pull outta nowhere, y’know. I’m always tellin’ you that’cha gotta treat yourself better!
“I am!” Touma sits up straighter, clasping his brother’s rough, scarred hands in his. “I’ve always known I wanted to be with you, nii-san. I know that I’m unworthy, but I can’t imagine myself anywhere but beside you.”
With a heavy sigh, Choubei eyes his little brother with something like fondness. “You sure someone like me is okay with you? I bet our parents are rollin’ in their graves thinkin' about givin’ you away to a ruffian like me.”
“If you’ll have me, nii-san, I’d like nothing more than to be yours until the day that I die.”
With that same well-worn fondness coloring his gaze, Choubei can only smile, helpless to his younger brother. The old scar across his right eye throbs like it sometimes does when they talk about the past like this.
“‘Course you’ve always been mine, Touma.”
Their union would be in name only, but Touma couldn’t be happier. All that’s left to do is to concoct a plan to live out the rest of his days as the Bandit King Choubei’s wife. Since all the bandits in their jurisdiction know his face, he’ll go into hiding for the time being. After all the current men are inevitably killed off and replaced by newcomers, Touma will reveal himself, casting aside his old identity forever.
But that remains far in the future. For now, Touma will dedicate himself to supporting his lover from the shadows as a dutiful wife.
“Welcome home, nii-san!”
Touma hurries over to greet his brother at the door of the abandoned building they’ve been using as their base. The lackluster conditions aren’t anything he hasn’t experienced before, and he has no complaints as long as Choubei doesn’t. Touma’s steel-gray eyes flit around anxiously, checking for any dire injuries or new scars. Choubei’s outer clothes are covered in blood, but it doesn’t seem to be his.
“Oi, Touma! Didn’t we decide you gotta stop callin' me that from now on? You’re the one that wanted to do it all proper, remember?”
“Don’t worry,” Touma laughs, now content with his little check-up. Clasping his hands behind his back, he cocks his head cheekily to the side. “I’ll be sure to refer to you properly as my husband once we’re outside. But when it’s just the two of us, you’ll always be my nii-san.”
Despite himself, a faint blush crawls up Choubei’s face at those words, and he clicks his tongue, crossing his arms. “If you say so, then I’ll trust you. Did anything happen while I was gone?”
Touma shakes his head, walking over to where Choubei has begun to strip off his dirty clothes. After taking a long, heated moment to bask in the sight of his brother’s muscular back bared to him, Touma drapes himself over the other, taking care not to drop down his full weight.
“Nothing at all, nii-san, other than that I missed you dearly.”
These last few days may as well have been an eternity, and Touma takes his time in nuzzling his face into the crook of Choubei’s neck, breathing in his familiar scent. As always, Touma gravitates instinctively toward his brother’s blind spot.
Choubei brings a hand up to cradle Touma’s face without turning around, the thick skin from the calluses on his palm rough against Touma's soft cheek. “The guys were messin’ around too much. I’ll be quicker about it next time so you don’t gotta wait so long.” It's as sweet of an apology as he ever gives.
“As expected of my nii-san,” Touma giggles, stroking one slim finger down his lover’s bare chest and playing with the waistband of his loose pants. Choubei doesn't so much as blink at the touch, only the slight upward quirk of his lips betraying how affected he is.
“You feelin’ needy already?”
Despite the implications, the words are said without any judgment. Like Touma, Choubei offers his body to his lover freely, thoughtlessly. And he too has felt the sting of the separation over the last couple of days—although he doesn't say as much out loud. There's nothing quite like coming home to his blushing bride.
Touma nods meekly in response, shyness tinting his eyes despite how many times they've done this. He lets his actions speak for him instead and takes his brother by the hand to pull him over to the tattered mattress they've salvaged for a bed. It's an unusually bold move for Touma, but Choubei lets himself be led along.
"I missed you while you were gone, nii-san," Touma repeats, their hands still intertwined. It feels a bit like a confession.
"That right? C'mere then, baby," Choubei responds, settling down on the mattress and patting the spot beside him. The word settles over him like a soft cloud, and Touma feels the tips of his ears start to redden. This, too, is a special indulgence reserved only for when they're alone.
The first kiss they have is slow, saccharine-sweet and stretched out like golden honey dripping off a silver spoon. Quiet sighs and hums fill the air as Choubei's hands start to roam and undo the ties of their clothes, their lips never parting. They could kiss forever if time allowed. Soon enough, they're both undressed and spread out on the bed.
Choubei's body has become littered with scars over the years, both new and old. He'd never made much of an effort to protect it, but he's never had any need to. As long as he's breathing, he can survive. And his dear Touma embraces him time and time again no matter how many times violence has sunk its teeth into him.
"You loose for me already?" Choubei laughs as he rests his hands on Touma's knees and rubs gentle circles into the skin there, at odds with his crude tone. "That's real sweet of you."
"Are you teasing me again, nii-san?" A pout looks deliciously fitting on Touma's soft, pink lips, the beginnings of a warm flush crawling up his neck and resting prettily in the apples of his cheeks. Choubei wants to sink his teeth into that plush bottom lip, suck the strawberry-red color out of where his collarbones sit. "Of course I had to be ready to properly receive you today."
Touma starts to close his legs, feeling incredibly exposed under that dark amber gaze, but Choubei easily pries them back apart. "C'mon, don't hide from me now. You were being so good, weren't you?"
Touma's mind is already turning hazy at the edges in anticipation of what's to come, and he latches on to the word good. He can be good, he'll be so good, the best even—his body wasn't even meant to take anything inside, but he changed it. To live is to change; to survive is to adapt; the Aza brothers are the rulers of change, after all. He lets his legs fall open with this in mind, revealing his pink hole, soft and wet with oil.
Choubei licks his lips, teeth flashing in the light. "That's my baby," he croons, dipping down to mouth at Touma's chest, swirling his hot, hard tongue around one of Touma's nipples. His fingers come up to play with the other, the other hand keeping his brother's knees spread.
"Ahh, wait, nii-san—!"
"Shh, don't worry. Just enjoy it, yeah?"
"But nii-san, you just came home! I'm the one who's supposed to be—"
Choubei only switches sides, making sure to give the other mound the same amount of attention with his mouth so that it becomes just as hard. He nips at it with his teeth the way he knows his little brother likes but won't admit to, just hard enough to make him cry out and clap a delicate hand over his mouth.
"It feels good, doesn't it?"
"Yes…" The word trails off into a lewd moan that makes Touma throw his head back in pleasure. His chest has only become more sensitive the more his lover plays with it, but leaning into that sensitivity allows him to become a better wife. Even if his breasts will never be able to make milk, he'll let Choubei suck on them as long as he desires.
"If it feels good for you, then I'll be sure to do it more." Choubei does his best to keep the smugness out of his voice, hiding his smirk against Touma's smooth, warm skin. His free hand moves down to palm insistently at Touma's cock, which is as flushed and wanting as the rest of him. His sweet little brother is always more pliable after his first orgasm, and pleasuring his wife has never been any kind of hardship for Choubei. In fact, nowadays, he lives for it.
"What about nii-san—ah!—shouldn't I also help you?"
Despite his words, Touma's hands haven't moved from where they're clutched tightly together around Choubei's neck, gently nudging his face closer.
"Don't worry, Touma," Choubei soothes, releasing the nipple he'd been lavishing attention on with a wet pop. "You know how much I like looking at your pretty little face, don'tcha? All you gotta do is lay there for me. I’ll take care of you."
It's not even an exaggeration. No matter how many bars or brothels or dance halls he's been to, no one that Choubei has ever seen could ever measure up to his little brother. Touma's lovely face, scrunched up in embarrassment and pinkening with pleasure, is framed delicately by his long black hair. It's a sight that Choubei could spend the rest of his life looking at. This is the life he would give anything to protect.
Choubei's hand on his cock is a little dry, but Touma doesn't dare voice a complaint. Everything his lover gives him—every touch, every taste, every word—is perfect. More than perfect. He's close to coming as it is even after only a few quick strokes. "It feels good, nii-san," he whimpers, almost shamefully. He'd like to wrap his legs around his brother's broad, sturdy waist to ground himself, but he keeps his legs where they are. Choubei likes it best when Touma spreads his legs for him.
When he finally comes, it's an almost-silent affair save for the breathless, desperate pants he lets out afterward. Choubei admires the view beneath him as he licks the spend off his fingers: with one arm thrown over his eyes, Touma paints quite the indecent picture, pale skin now blotted all over with a reddish-pink, bite marks scattered across his heaving chest, pink lips as kiss-swollen as his nipples; his legs are already trembling, and his tight hole clenches around nothing like it knows what's to come.
"Tell me how you want it, Touma. On your back or from behind?"
It may seem a little mean to get Touma so worked up right after he's just come, but he's always the most honest at times like these. It's only then that he lets go of the proper persona he maintains so resolutely during the day.
"…Mmm, however nii-san wants it."
"That's not what I asked, Touma."
A heavy hand grips at Touma's hair, right near his scalp, careful not to hit his head against the wall behind them. The only time Choubei ever punishes him is when he doesn't take care of his own needs. It seems that even a quick orgasm wasn't enough to bleed the disobedience out of him fully this time.
"M'sorry, nii-san…"
"That's not what I asked either. Tell me how you want it, or I'll go take care of this myself." Choubei yanks his brother up by the hair, gesturing to where his own cock hangs hard and heavy, leaking and untouched so far.
That threat seems to do it. Touma's gray eyes widen almost instantly with panic, his hands coming up to scrabble desperately at his brother's chest. He can't—won't—let Choubei get off on his own, not when he's here and ready and willing. It would be the greatest possible shame for him, and Choubei knows that. "No!"
"Well?"
"On—on my back, please. Want to kiss nii-san."
Satisfied with that answer, Choubei eases his grip, rewarding his little brother with a sweet, open-mouthed kiss that he leans into eagerly. "See, baby, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
Touma seems too lost in the kiss to reply, his tongue lapping hungrily at Choubei's lips, wet and messy. His lips and tongue don't stop moving even as he's laid back down and Choubei's deft fingers trail toward his hole, circling the rim with his thumb.
"How tight are you? Did you play with yourself while I was gone?"
"Of course not!" Touma pulls away with a glare, indignant. "I only opened myself up enough to be able to take nii-san inside."
Touma doesn't dare to pleasure himself while his brother is away, despite Choubei reassuring him many times that it's more than alright. That's one habit that his lover hasn't been able to fuck out of him no matter how many times he's tried. Well, it's no matter. If it makes Touma this happy to stay pure and untouched for him, Choubei won't raise the issue any further.
"I know, I know. I was only teasin’ you." He drops a placating kiss on Touma's forehead after brushing away the fine hairs there. "How many did you use?"
With Choubei's hand bracing the small of his back, Touma lies down. He couldn't care less about the lumpy, uncomfortable mattress when he's got Choubei atop him like this.
"Four, nii-san."
The earnest, almost proud look in his little brother's eyes that accompanies that statement has Choubei nearly laughing aloud, but he just barely manages to control himself. Really, Touma will be the death of him one day.
"Good goin'. Wait here a second for me."
"Mm, okay, nii-san."
The mental image of Touma writhing on their bed alone, shoving four thin, spit-slick fingers into himself while wearing nothing but a thin cotton slip has Choubei hurrying to grab the bottle of oil from beside them. Oil is one of the only luxuries they afford themselves, but it's practically become a necessity with how much they use it now.
"Somethin' the matter?" Touma has sat up slightly on his elbows, playing with a stray lock of hair hesitantly. "What is it? You don't wanna do it anymore?"
"That's not it… It's just…"
Choubei comes over to sit down beside him again and brushes his hair out of his face so their eyes meet, amber on gray. With that small gesture, Touma feels enough confidence to voice his desire.
"Could I please use my mouth for you a bit first, nii-san?"
Ah, so that's what it was. Truly, Touma will be the death of him one day.
"Use your mouth? You gotta use your words properly if you want somethin' from me, y'know."
Now that his worries are assuaged, Choubei's just playing more than anything, and they both know he'll always give in in the end. He's already moving to sit carefully on Touma's sternum and sweeping the expanse of his silky hair to one side.
"Nii-san," Touma whines, cheeks puffed out slightly. His gaze immediately locks in on the thick, dripping cock in front of him that's gone far too long without attention so far, and he starts to reach out for it eagerly.
"Hey, now." Choubei bats his hands away, pinning both of Touma's wrists above his head with only one of his own hands. "You're the one that asked for it, so you gotta tell me or else I won't give it to you."
With a torn, longing glance at the prize right in front of him, Touma turns his eyes back up to his brother's face. Steels himself with a deep breath as he widens his eyes innocently the way he knows always affects his lover. If Choubei wants to play a bit first, Touma will do his best to reciprocate.
"Nii-san, won't you please let me suck your cock?"
That seems to do it, if the throaty groan Choubei lets out is anything to go by. Touma always manages to rile him up so effortlessly. The crude words are at odds with his sweet, lilting voice, and they’re awfully reminiscent of the last time Touma had begged for something so prettily—please, nii-san, won’t you make me your bride?
Choubei releases Touma's hands, and the latter immediately leans forward on his own, lapping greedily at the precum pearling generously at the slit. He moans almost instantly as soon as the salty, bitter taste hits his tongue, not taking his mouth off so Choubei can feel his pleasure through the vibrations as well.
"Fuck, Touma."
His lover only hums in reply, taking Choubei further down his throat and swirling his tongue around the swollen head. As saliva pools in his mouth, he swallows a couple of times, letting the cock stuffing him full bump against the roof of his mouth as he hollows his cheeks. Touma gets almost too eager at times like these, especially when he's been deprived for a while.
Without having pulled off at all, Touma's lips have already reached the base of Choubei's cock, and he breathes steadily through his nose to inhale the familiar, musky scent, feeling Choubei harden underneath his tongue as he suckles harder. It's relieving to finally be able to give back some of the pleasure he was allotted by his lover, and he's spent many nights in this very position, losing himself to the sensation of being used and filled.
Tonight, however, Choubei is a bit more restless.
He allows himself a moment for a couple of self-indulgent thrusts to fuck into Touma's hot, wet mouth, petting the top of his head and receiving a content hum in response. The movements don't phase Touma, almost like he was anticipating it as he lets his throat relax and moans again. His long, dark eyelashes fan out like a doll's when he looks up, awaiting praise.
"Feels good, Touma," Choubei murmurs languidly, giving just what he’s been asked for. "You had enough yet?"
Touma’s expression, even with his mouth full, is rather put out, but he concedes with a nod after a few more long, sloppy licks. It’ll never be enough for him, but this will tide him over for now.
Reaching down to tangle Touma's outstretched fingers with his own, Choubei’s other hand gently pulls his brother off him, wiping the drool and precum pooling at his chin with his thumb. Touma's pretty gray eyes have gone a little hazy, and his red, abused lips stretch into an easy smile. He lets himself be maneuvered back down, legs spread automatically now, still holding his brother's hand in his own.
Finally, Choubei reaches lower, petting at the smooth skin of Touma's inner thighs. He starts with two oiled fingers, and Touma's hole sucks them in, hungry.
Even in his cock-drunk state, Touma still finds it in him to be petulant. "I can take more than that, nii-san."
"Sure, sure," Choubei agrees, adding another finger as he tightens his grip on Touma's hand. He leans down to bite at his lover's lower lip.
"One more, please?"
"One more," Choubei echoes, fond as ever as he obeys. Once he's sure his four fingers can fit comfortably, he removes his hand, wipes the leftover oil on his member, and lines up between Touma's thighs. Only the best for his dear little brother. "Ready?"
"I love you, nii-san."
With that, Choubei slides in syrupy slow, taking his time to savor the feeling of that velvety heat enveloping him bit by bit. He braces one hand against the deep arch of Touma's back, pulling their bodies flush against one another. It's like an instinct to capture his lover's soft lips in a heated, desperate kiss until he's fully seated inside. I love you, Touma, he says, maybe just thinks, but he knows his brother hears it spoken clear as day against the wet slide of his mouth.
Touma's all but gone now with that first thrust filling him completely, lost to the sensations—Choubei's warm, rough skin brushing against every part of him, brushing deep against his core in a way he can never get enough of.
"Nii-san," he sighs, wanton, as his lover worships down the smooth, unblemished column of his neck. It's been long enough that the old marks have faded, which means it's time to add new ones. Choubei keeps him well-claimed. "Nii-san, nii-san, nii-san—"
"I got you, baby. Just hold onto me, and I'll take care of you."
And Touma can only submit, handing over every part of himself gratefully. As long as he follows his big brother, they'll always be alright.
His own cock goes untouched, but he might have already come again. He isn't really keeping track of his own pleasure, focusing more on tightening up to make Choubei groan in that way he loves which means he's really starting to let go.
It doesn't seem like they'll be getting quite to the point tonight where Choubei truly and utterly loses control, but that's more than fine as well. Touma will take everything he can get, no matter what form it takes.
How much time has passed?
Touma is certain that he's been fucked through at least one more orgasm by this point. His mind is encased in a blurry, heady dream, sweet and warm as melted sugar, his vision hyperfocusing on the furrow in his lover's brow and the slick, sloppy place where their bodies meet. Belated, he realizes that there are tears slipping down his face.
"Nii-san?"
His voice feels hoarse, throat scraped raw. Has he been moaning? It wouldn't be the first time he's been brought to this point. Or rather, Touma finds himself drifting like this more often than not, his brain collapsing into nothing but pure, unfiltered pleasure.
"You back with me now?"
Choubei, making sure not to change the rhythm of his hips, watches carefully for the moment that his little brother's eyes begin to focus again. As soon as their stares meet, he wraps a hand around Touma's cock, still hard and wanting. He'll be sure to wring one more sweet orgasm from his lover's lithe body before the night ends.
"Mmm…” Once his mouth is capable of making proper sounds again, they start to spill out of him unabashedly. “Feels—I feel so, nngh, so hot, nii-san, nii-san… I'm—I can't…"
"There's my Touma. Just let yourself go."
"Nii-san…!"
Touma's final orgasm of the night is explosive, making his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. He didn't think his cock had anything left in it, but it spills all over Choubei's hand to his embarrassment.
Amidst the pleasure, a single thought arises: how many times has he come tonight, and his brother still hasn't come once?
"I tell you all the time not to worry about things like that."
Even though he hasn't said the words aloud, the worries are written clearly on his face. Satisfied with the way Touma's body sprawls limp and satiated beneath him, Choubei picks up the speed of his thrusts, fucking mercilessly into Touma's puffy, sensitive hole. Both his hands come to grip possessively at Touma's slim waist, his fingers digging into the soft skin there. He doesn't mind waiting a little longer to come if it means getting to see his wife's fucked-out face like this.
Touma's eyes are half-lidded, and he doesn't protest even as Choubei grabs him by the thighs to spear him deeper on his cock. He's already waiting eagerly to be filled with Choubei's thick, hot come, the way he's been bred over and over again since their wedding night.
"Take what you need," he says, words slurring slightly, breath hitching with each rough thrust. "My body is yours, nii-san."
Choubei doesn't reply, focused on chasing his own release and giving his lover what he’s been begging for. Although he doesn't think Touma would be able to hear him in this state even if he did respond. He can feel the heat curling insistently in his gut, a searing warmth that unfurls throughout his whole body.
"Take it for me, Touma," he groans, fucking deeper into the other’s body. “Fuck…!”
He comes with one final, powerful thrust, grinding his hips to keep his cock buried deep through his orgasm to make sure not a drop spills outside. Touma’s body relaxes into a pleased tremor, accepting the come as willingly as he does everything else. This is where he belongs.
Wiping off the sweat beading on his forehead, Choubei starts to pull out, but Touma stops him with a hand on his wrist.
“Not yet, please…” His eyes are barely open now, tear-streaked face still blotchy and red. Still, Choubei understands what he means. He slides his cock back inside, plugging Touma up with his thick, hot seed.
“Sleep a little. I’ll wake you up in a bit.”
“Mmm…‘kay… Will nii-san fill me up again when we wake up?”
His little brother really is insatiable. But Choubei wouldn't have him any other way. “Anything for you,” he says with one last tender kiss pressed against Touma’s sweat-damp skin. With that, he lets sleep take them both.
After pouring drinks for everyone at the table, Touma takes his place behind Choubei, kneeling carefully on a soft pillow placed specifically for him. There are deep imprints in it where his knees have rested for hours while he knelt for his brother—warming his cock, or sucking him off, or sometimes doing nothing but sitting still and looking pretty.
He has finally been allowed to re-enter society after waiting patiently these last few years, but this time as Choubei's wife. He's beyond himself with joy. Every moment of this night has felt like something out of a dream, and he’ll be sure to act perfectly to make sure their dream becomes a reality.
Which is why it is all the more upsetting to have these men leering at him, their thoughts written plainly across their faces. At this very moment, one of Choubei’s subordinates is giving a report on their latest raid, but his eyes keep straying to where Touma is.
In truth, Touma doesn't mind the ogling. There isn't anything the bandits can do with Choubei sitting right here, and Touma is still more than capable of defending himself. He keeps daggers in the billowing sleeves of his furisode, among other weapons, so the advances of one of these drunkards wouldn't be a problem for him.
No, the real issue is the fact that they think they can take Touma away, that Choubei is keeping him here against his will.
Touma knows what his situation looks like. That in the eyes of outsiders, he seems little more than a kept pet, a caged bird. But Touma is the one who asked to be collared like this with a delicate silver band on his finger; he is the one who chose to shed his old clothes for something that bears a striking resemblance to a bridal kimono. There isn’t a single part of his body that has gone untouched by husband, and Touma offers it willingly, desperately, pleadingly, without fail.
Of course, there are raw, angry, red marks around his wrists, but those had been from just this morning when Touma had asked to be tied to the bedpost. And there are deep, purpling bruises peeking out from beneath the collar of his haneri, but those had been from when he provoked his brother into marking him up last night.
And his dear, sweet brother is the one who had indulged him in it all—the way he always does, the way he promised to always do. If anything, Touma is the one tying Choubei down in their union with this absurd request.
As if sensing his unease, Choubei turns around slightly, beckoning to him with a seemingly careless hand. "Come here, Touma."
Careful to keep a pleasant, serene expression on his face, Touma crawls eagerly into his brother's lap, situating himself the way he's done dozens of times before and wrapping his arms loosely around Choubei's neck. This is exactly what he craved for so long—the ability to freely be with Choubei, the kind of thing he wouldn't have been able to do as a little brother but can easily take advantage of as a wife.
Of course, this display is also specifically calculated to heighten Choubei's prestige among his men.
Idiots like them don't listen to something as sophisticated as reason, Choubei had scoffed on more than one occasion. The only way through to them is by speaking a language they understand. Don't worry, Touma—I'll do all the talking.
And just as he did many years ago, Choubei takes the brunt of the burden all on himself, making sure Touma is never directly in the line of danger while still remaining within arm's reach. To these unrefined brutes, the worst of whom are even turned away by the most derelict of brothels, Choubei seems all the more powerful by being able to have such an elegant beauty at his beck and call.
Touma presses himself flush against his lover, reveling in each point of contact as drops a tender kiss right beneath Choubei’s ear.
“Am I too heavy, nii-san?”
Already, one of Choubei’s hands has come to grip possessively at Touma’s waist, wrinkling the pristine white fabric of his furisode. The question, whispered softly against Choubei’s skin for only him to hear, sounds like more of a tease than anything, but his wife’s wide gray eyes are as innocent. Touma knows better than anyone how strong Choubei is, yet he still worries over the simplest of things.
Well, it’s no matter. Without deigning to answer aloud, Choubei only smooths out the folds of Touma’s kimono, making sure every bit of his brother's fair skin is properly covered.
“Ah… Boss?”
“Go on,” Choubei grunts, waving at hand at the man who had been talking before. In truth, Touma has already gathered sufficient information on the raid himself, so this is little more than a means for Choubei to exercise his leadership over his men while making sure that their accounts line up. The man continues to speak, but his voice has started to falter. Touma could not care less.
The last time Choubei had gone out, he'd brought back a small jar of scented oil as a present. Touma had liked it enough to save for what he deems as special occasions. Occasions like this one. Before getting dressed, he'd dabbed a bit on his wrists, behind his ears, and between his legs—all places that Choubei loves to kiss—and the sweet, light smell permeates the air between them, mingling with Touma's natural scent. It drives his husband crazy. He's already doing his best to hold back as it is.
The hand at Touma’s hip slides lower to grope roughly at his ass and forces the two closer together. With his free hand, Choubei grips his wife's chin, allowing himself to enjoy the put-upon gasp of surprise Touma lets out before capturing his lips in a messy kiss.
Once again, it’s for show more than anything, but that doesn’t mean that the two can’t have fun doing it. Sensitive as ever, Touma lets out a few soft whimpers that are drowned out by the wet smack of their lips. Choubei’s tongue caresses his own, and he lets himself get lost in the sensations, fixated on the hot, hard press of his lover’s thick cock against his hip.
Would Choubei let him take it out and sit on it right here, in front of all his men?
Probably not, but that’d be more for Touma’s sake than by any lack of desire on his brother’s end. Maybe one day Touma will be able to talk him into it. For now, this is more than enough.
Choubei swallows his noises greedily, drinks them easily straight from the source like sweet nectar so no one else will be able to hear but him. Despite his efforts, soft little ah-ah-ahs escape the corners of Touma's mouth as Choubei moves lower to nip harshly at the pale column of his neck, his sharp canines flashing in the lantern light.
"Danna-san," Touma whimpers, softly still but this time just loud enough to be heard by the others. He can practically feel their eyes zeroing in on the slender line of his body, the high-pitched, breathy croon of his voice that calls to them like a siren. The title is like another brand on his body, and he revels in it. "It hurts…"
"You can take it, can'tcha?" Choubei laughs, a little cruelly, leaning into the role as he sinks his teeth in hard enough to bleed just once at his favorite spot against Touma's fluttering pulse. It looks like it'll bruise nicely later tonight. Even Touma's skin yields to him in every way, every night, and he knows that Touma has taken much more than this with little more than a few silvery tears.
And now, sure enough, Touma takes the bite beautifully, gratefully, tilting his head deeply to the side to show off the mark. His face is twisted into an expression that could be pleasure or pain, eyes screwed tightly shut. One slim, pale shoulder is revealed where his furisode has slipped off.
Choubei shoves one hand down between the folds of their clothing and presses it right against Touma's cock for him to rut against frantically. His wife is already skirting the edges of desperation just from being so exposed like this in front of so many people, Choubei's earthy musk clouding his mind. The other hand yanks on Touma's long braid, causing him to cry out, two fat tears beginning to leak out of his closed eyes. Maybe his little brother of the past would have been too embarrassed to rub himself all over his nii-san like this, but his wife has no such qualms.
"Hey, now. If you're gonna be such a needy slut in front of everyone, then you better make me feel good, too."
This line, more than anything else, is just an act. Choubei feels pleasure rippling through every nerve in his body just watching Touma frotting against his hand so prettily. But it wouldn't do to show that to his men.
Pausing for a moment to pull Choubei's cock out of his pants, Touma licks one of his hands, a sight so lewd that Choubei can feel a spurt of precome drip out just watching it. His wife wraps both of his small hands around his cock, twisting his fingers just the way Choubei's trained him to do. With Touma in his lap like this, Choubei is covered enough that no one else can properly see what's going on, but the wet, sloppy schlick of Touma's hands is more than enough to let them know.
It's clear now that every man in the room has fixed their attention solely on Touma, on the sweet slivers of bared skin just beyond their reach, on the intoxicating scent of night jasmine that lingers in the air around him. They can hardly blink for fear of missing even a moment of the sight of him squirming in Choubei's lap or when his face turns in their direction.
Underneath the low wooden table on the other side of the room, a pair of hands begins to move. Slowly and subtly enough that even those around him don't notice. Is this what the Bandit King gets to enjoy every night? Surely he can share his spoils with his underlings as a reward for a job well done. That must be why he decided to bring his wife with him to the meeting tonight, why he bares that fair, elegant body defenseless on display like this.
"What do you say, Touma? For lettin' you touch me like this?"
"T-thank you very much, danna-san..."
Touma's dark pupils have dilated in the moonlight as he stares, bewitched, at his husband's length, dedicating himself entirely to the task of pleasure. He's still rubbing his own clothed body on Choubei's hand, but that is now secondary.
It's only when he leans his head down, delicately tucking a lock of hair behind his ear as he presses a tender kiss to the head of Choubei's cock that the Bandit King bothers to look back up. All the others instantly look away. It pains him to miss the undoubtedly priceless sight of Touma's cute, pink tongue flicking out to leave teasing little kitten licks on his length, but he has something else to deal with first.
One hand firmly placed on Touma's head, keeping his face out of sight, Choubei eyes the rest of his men, the scars across his face cutting a fearsome figure in the half-darkness. Most of them are too afraid to move their heads, a scant few staring back at him with poorly-concealed jealousy in their eyes.
The position is a bit too strained for Touma to take his husband fully into his mouth, so he keeps his hands moving determinedly at the base, swirling his tongue generously around the tip. Choubei tastes delicious, as always. Touma licks his lips with a pleased sigh, savoring the taste.
Fwish. Choubei's longsword is unsheathed faster than anyone but Touma can comprehend, slashing out the eyes of the bandit closest to them. In nearly the same moment, he throws a small dagger with pinpoint accuracy into the head of the man sitting across the table whose hands had begun to reach into his pants, killing him instantly.
"I said I'd kill you where you stood if you tried anythin' funny. And you, don't come so close again or I'll end you just as easy." He whips his sword to the side, the excess blood splattering against the sliding door. "The rest of you, get out. We're done here for tonight."
Touma's mouth makes sounds even more obscene than his hands. Hearing his brother's voice in that dark, commanding timbre only spurs him on. Just a bit more, and he'll be rewarded with a full load of his brother's come painting his mouth and lips white. He doubles down on the task, pumping his hands more quickly.
All around them, the rest of the bandits file out without a word, leaving the still-warm corpse where it is. At Choubei's glare, the newly-blinded man is carried out, still writhing in agony. These are the words they understand best, after all—there is no better way to get through to a group of vagabonds than sex and violence, fucking and fighting. It seems that Touma's re-debut has gone perfectly.
The two are now alone. Choubei runs his fingers through the silky black hair before him, lazily thrusting his hips up. There's no need to hold his little brother down. Touma wouldn't pull away unless Choubei himself asked him to. He comes with a quiet groan of his wife's lovely name, tipping his head back and shoving Touma's face all the way down on his cock.
Touma, for his part, swallows it all dutifully, his tongue lolling out afterward to show his empty mouth. He collapses with a contented breath, his head pillowed on Choubei's thigh.
"Oh? Did you already finish up with the men, nii-san?"
"That's right. They're all gone now." Choubei pets at Touma's slightly mussed up hair, not bothering to hide his grin. His little brother can be just as much of a sadist as him sometimes. "You did well, Touma."
This, of all things, is what makes Touma's cheeks tinge pink. "Was it good, nii-san?"
Already accustomed to these kinds of questions from his blushing bride, Choubei only nods, cupping his little brother's cheek, his left eye glinting like a shard of uncut amber.
"’M not even close to bein' done with you yet. You better be ready to keep bein' good for me the rest of tonight."
Touma's face splits into a wide grin, eyes sparkling. "Of course, nii-san!"