Archive of Our Own

“Do you really want to do this?” Koujaku asked, glancing over at Sly, who stood in the middle of Koujaku’s bedroom, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you deaf? I told you.”

Koujaku shrugged, kneeling down in front of the open wardrobe to ease open the bottom drawer. He pulled out a mat and a small bag, bringing them to Sly and setting them down. He spread the mat across the hard wood floor, and when Sly stepped on it, he found it was plush and dipped slightly under his weight.

“Do you really want to do this?”

“You’re the one who suggested it!” Sly pointed out with a heavy scowl. And he had. Koujaku had been the one to suggest shibari after yet another fight about their sex life. It had taken long enough to even convince Koujaku to fuck when Sly was out, let alone do anything rough.

Sly had begged, pleaded, shouted, threatened, whined, cajoled, bargained, but nothing would make Koujaku hit him. Nothing would make Koujaku jerk his hair or spank him or shove his face into the sheets. But Koujaku had a very short temper, and it wasn’t long before he had snapped the day before and quite loudly offered shibari.

To be honest, Sly wasn’t entirely sure what shibari was. It meant ‘tied down,’ though, so Sly was picturing something intense. He had fantasies the night before of leather cuffs and a belt around his neck and a harsh hand on his skin.

He wasn’t picturing a mat on the floor and a disappointingly small bag. He didn’t imagine Koujaku would stand up and reach out to tip Sly’s chin up, making him meet his eyes. But that was what he did, and Sly frowned at him.

“Do you really want to do this?” Koujaku asked for the third time, his voice soft, but serious. His eyes bore into Sly’s, dark and focused, and Sly found that his throat was suddenly dry. He nodded.

“Tell me.”

“Yes.”

“Again.”

Sly gritted his teeth. “Shut up, hippo, and fuck me already.”

Koujaku frowned, and he pulled his hand away. “If I don’t have your full verbal consent, I won’t touch you. This isn’t a joke, Sly. If you want to do this, be serious, for once.”

Sly wanted to punch Koujaku in the face. But Koujaku was taller than he was, and far wider, and even if Sly were to retaliate with violence, Koujaku wouldn’t even blink. He dropped his arms, but his shoulders remained stiff, avoiding Koujaku’s gaze.

“Yes.”

“Again.”

“Yes.”

“Once more.”

“I want to do this.”

Koujaku nodded, satisfied. He began to move, then, pulling off his kimono and folding it carefully, revealing his chest and his arms. Sly took a moment to admire him, admire the planes of his back and the scars that littered his skin. He supposed Koujaku would consider his tattoos scars, as well, but Sly didn’t think so. They were beautiful and bold, and they showed Koujaku’s strength more than any amount of physical prowess could.

Koujaku turned back to Sly, kneeling down by the bag and beginning to rifle through it. “Take off your shirt,” he said, pulling out a pair of scissors and several tied off coils of rope.

Sly eagerly pulled his shirt off, dumping it on the floor and crouching down across from Koujaku. “What’s all this for?” He asked, picking up one of the coils of rope.

“For you,” Koujaku answered, glancing up at him. “The rope is to tie you with. The scissors are in case something goes wrong. I have rope conditioner in here, too.” Koujaku paused, his gaze flicking over Sly’s body. “Do you prefer cotton or polyester?”

Sly frowned again. Cotton or polyester? What kind of question was that? Were there even two different types of ropes in that pile?

When he got no answer from Sly, Koujaku looked back down at the little pile. He began to select the coils of black rope, placing the other ones back in the bag. He held up one of the coils to Sly.

“This is braided polyester,” he said. “It’ll stay flexible but it shouldn’t give you rope burn.” Koujaku stood up, and Sly followed suit. He watched Koujaku unravel the coil of rope and fold it over in his hands.

“Sly, I’m not sure if you know what all of this entails. I’m not sure if I should even be doing this to you. But this is going to require your attention, your cooperation, and your focus. At regular intervals, I’m going to ask you if you’re okay, or how you’re doing. I want you to communicate very openly with me, do you understand?”

Sly shrugged, beginning to become impatient. He wanted to be tossed down and tied up, not lectured. But Koujaku wasn’t having it. He stared Sly down, continuing on after a moment.

“Alright. So how about when I ask you if you’re okay, you tell me ‘green’ if you want to continue, ‘yellow’ if you need a minute or are unsure, and ‘red’ if you want to stop. Like a traffic light. Understand?”

Sly shrugged again. “Yeah, whatever.”

Koujaku narrowed his eyes slightly, but he began to move, circling around Sly to face his back. He gathered Sly’s hair carefully in his hands, sweeping it over his shoulder and out of the way.

“How are you doing?” Koujaku asked, and Sly couldn’t help but feel as though it was a test.

“Green,” he said, making a face at the wardrobe, since Koujaku couldn’t see.

Koujaku hummed, sliding the palms of his hands over Sly’s shoulders and down his arms to take his wrists. He pulled on them, manipulating Sly’s arms behind him, parallel to each other along the small of his back. He let go only briefly, and then Sly felt the sensation of the rope against his skin.

Koujaku moved slowly, drawing the rope around his forearms and knotting them together. Sly couldn’t see, so he tried to imagine what each tug and each slip of rope looked like. Once his forearms were tied together, Sly struggled to test the bond. It held firmly, but Koujaku still made a disapproving noise and jerked on the end of the rope still in his hand. It pulled Sly slightly off balance, and he had to stumble to stay upright. He cursed, but heat still flooded into his gut.

Once he was steady again, Koujaku guided the rope up and around his arm to cross his chest. When he stepped in front of Sly, laying the two tracks of rope down flat over his skin, Sly studied his face. His eyes were bright with concentration, his mouth set into a firm line.

He was attractive. But then, he had always been. Without the stupid smile and corny jokes, though, he was absolutely gorgeous, and Sly wanted nothing more than all of that focus trained on him. He began to fidget as Koujaku circled back around him again, and Koujaku placed his hand on the back of Sly’s neck.

“Be still,” he murmured quietly. “You won’t like this if you think about other things. Concentrate on the rope on your skin and where I lead it.” Koujaku paused, and Sly reluctantly relaxed under his hand. “Are you alright?”

“Green.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Koujaku, and he continued. He reached down to lift up Sly’s wrists as he pulled firmly on the rope, and the entire thing tightened across his chest and arms. The harness ensured that Sly stand up straight, and he shifted in its hold.

Koujaku spent more time behind him, and Sly guessed he was tying off the rope. It frustrated him that he couldn’t see what was happening, that all he had to go on was the feel of the rope and Koujaku’s rough fingertips brushing against his back.

“Is that it?” Sly asked when Koujaku’s hands left him. He watched Koujaku bend down to pick up another coil of the black rope, frowning when he realized that the answer was probably no. “More, huh? You really must like this shit. Who knew good old Koujaku likes to tie boys up before fucking them?”

That got his attention, and Koujaku looked up at him. He reached out to take Sly’s chin in between his thumb and forefinger, tipping his head up like he had before. He leaned in to press a kiss to Sly’s mouth, his lips warm and dry.

But he didn’t answer, and Sly sighed loudly as Koujaku uncoiled the new length of rope, letting it drop to the floor and hit the mat with a light thud. Koujaku grasped the looped end of the rope and stepped close, crowding Sly and running his hand down his cheek and neck. Sly could feel the scars on Koujaku’s hands, and wondered, not for the first time, how he could even move them so well around the thick patches of scar tissue there.

Koujaku slipped his hands around Sly’s waist, their chests almost touching. Koujaku passed the end of the rope from one hand to the other, then pulled it forward, looping it around Sly’s small frame. Koujaku stayed close to him as he pulled the entire length of the rope through the little loop at the end. It felt so intimate, to be standing this close to each other in the dim lighting as Koujaku wound rope around his body.

Sly ventured a glance up at Koujaku, who met his eyes with a small smile. Sly looked away quickly, choosing to focus instead on the feel of the rope against his ribcage. Koujaku pulled the rope until it was snug around Sly’s torso before circling it back around the way he had come.

Sly looked down, watching as Koujaku doubled the rope back and forth around his ribs and down his stomach, creating a neat row of twists down his front. It looked like he was being bound into a corset, and if Sly thought about it, it felt that way, too.

The chest harness already forced him to stand upright, and each time Koujaku passed the ropes across his back and tightened them across his front, it felt like a firm embrace. It was solid and warm, and it held him still, allowing him to feel every brush of Koujaku’s hands over his skin.

Sly exhaled softly, finding himself growing drowsy under the support and the touch. It was more attention than he had had in a while, and he was quickly overcome with the endorphins that came from being gently touched so much. Koujaku glanced up at him with a knowing look.

“How are you doing?” He asked, his voice soft. Sly looked him over, feeling disappointed when he saw that Koujaku was running out of rope. He met Koujaku’s eyes, licking his lips to moisten them.

“Green.”

Koujaku nodded, tugging on the end of the rope and settling it against Sly’s bare abdomen. It swung there lazily, brushing against his skin, and Sly could do nothing but watch it, dazed.

Koujaku knelt in front of Sly, sliding his hands slowly up his thighs. He leaned forward to press his lips to the skin just above the waistband of his pants, a careful, searing touch. Sly thought it was corny, and he would have said so. But when he moved his hands, he found they were still bound, and it felt like Koujaku himself was holding Sly back. He remained silent.

Koujaku’s nimble fingers unbuttoned Sly’s pants and dragged the zipper down. Sly caught his breath, expecting to be touched, but Koujaku only eased his pants down his legs. His underwear followed, and Sly realized that he didn’t mind being completely naked for this. But it made him feel vulnerable, especially since Koujaku wasn’t touching him. He could still feel where Koujaku had kissed him.

Koujaku steadied him with a hold on his elbows and encouraged Sly to step out of his clothes. He obeyed silently, marveling at the way the ropes held him up as he moved, restraining him into a small space and a certain position. It was a strange feeling, but a secure one.

Koujaku picked up Sly’s pants and moved them out of the way, bending to pick up another coil of rope, too. Sly inhaled quickly, more excited than he should have been at the prospect of more rope. But more rope meant more touches. Sly wanted that.

He watched as Koujaku deftly tied the knotted end of the rope to the looped end of the new one, and his chest swelled with excitement. The rope corset only extended halfway down his abdomen, to his waist, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. And he wasn’t too proud to beg for it.

But Koujaku was giving it to him willingly, binding him carefully. It was slow, so slow, the ropes and his fingers dragging across Sly’s skin. But instead of making him impatient, it lulled him into a calm state. Sly was surprised, and he tried to chalk it up to tiredness, but that wasn’t really the case.

Koujaku bent at the waist to bind the ropes lower, the ties and the neat line of knots continuing down to Sly’s hips. Koujaku’s tugs were just as firm as before, but it felt more sexual now. He was tugging Sly’s hips forward, just a little, and Sly felt himself begin to grow hard. He wanted to be controlled like this. That was all he was good for, to be controlled and used and then thrown away.

Koujaku knelt down in front of Sly again, holding the ends of the rope tightly in one hand. He pulled on it, forcing Sly to take a couple of steps forward. He wrapped one hand around Sly’s bare thigh and leaned forward to press a line of slow, open mouthed kisses just under where the ropes ended. He was mimicking his earlier actions, and it made Sly shiver.

“Touch me,” he said, his voice coming out quieter and less demanding than he would have liked.

“I am touching you,” Koujaku responded, glancing up at him with a small smile. He continued to kiss Sly’s hips and lower abdomen, taking care with each placement. The attention began to make Sly uncomfortable. Koujaku shouldn’t be touching him, worshipping him like this. It should be the other way around.

Because Sly was the bottom, Sly was the one tied up. Koujaku should be focused on his own pleasure instead of Sly’s. He shouldn’t be kneeling down in front of him and reverently grazing his fingertips over the back of his thighs. Sly should be the one on his knees, sucking Koujaku off or even kissing his feet if that was what he wanted. Sly didn’t deserve this.

He looked away, shifting under Koujaku’s hands, and he stopped.

“Sly?” He asked, and when Sly didn’t answer, he stood up. He cupped Sly’s cheek and ran his thumb over his cheekbone. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Sly grumbled. “What, think I can’t take it?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Sly looked down. The end of the ropes still sat in Koujaku’s hand. He didn’t want to stop. But he didn’t want to keep doing the same thing as before.

“Yellow.”

“Thank you,” Koujaku murmured, leaning in for a chaste kiss before pulling away. He still held on to the rope, but he didn’t touch Sly for a few moments.

It drove him crazy. He could feel each spot that Koujaku had kissed. He wanted to collapse, to implode, to break down and beg Koujaku to be rough with him, to destroy him. But the ropes that wound around him, Koujaku’s ropes, an extension of Koujaku’s own hands, held him up and kept him together. For just a small moment, they made him strong.

Sly swallowed hard and met Koujaku’s gaze again. “Okay,” he whispered. “Green.”

Koujaku nodded, placing a hand on Sly’s hip and kissing his forehead. When he pulled back, he gave a short tug on the ropes, winding them around Sly’s hips twice more before tying the remaining rope into a neat knot. He took a step back to admire his work, and Sly shifted in his bonds to test the give. There wasn’t much, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Koujaku circled him, testing the rope’s tightness here and there, but he seemed satisfied. He stood before Sly, reaching out to hold him by his elbows again. Sly met his eyes. He didn’t look angry, or bored, or even particularly turned on. He looked happy.

“You look so beautiful,” he murmured, and Sly huffed, looking away and wishing he could hide his sudden blush.

“Kneel down,” Koujaku said, and that, Sly could handle. He slid to his knees with Koujaku’s help, settling down with his legs spread wider than they should have been. He ran his tongue over his lips, glancing up at Koujaku.

“Are you gonna let me blow you?” He asked, his voice still quiet. But the fire was there. He wanted to do this. He wanted to show Koujaku he was worthy of the attention.

“No.” Came the answer, and Sly opened his mouth to protest. How come? Who the hell turned down a blowjob? But Koujaku just circled behind him, his hands stroking through his hair, and Sly’s protests died on his lips.

It felt good, to have his hair finger combed like that, and Sly tipped his head back. He realized that Koujaku was crouched behind him, and his knees were still spread open. It brought his attention back to his own arousal.

But before he could say anything, Koujaku wrapped his arms around Sly’s chest and shoulders and bent them forward, gingerly lowering Sly to the mat on the floor. Sly turned his head to the side, confused as to why Koujaku didn’t just shove him onto his face. Instead, Koujaku was pulling his hair back so he wouldn’t lie on it and rubbing his shoulders.

Koujaku’s bare chest was against his back, and the warmth made Sly shiver. Koujaku could crush him if he wanted to. But then the warmth was gone, and Koujaku’s hands settled on his hips, pulling him up onto his knees and exposing him to the room.

Sly bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes. Was Koujaku going to fuck him like this? The thought made his cock throb. Aoba preferred to see his partner’s face, but Sly loved to be bent over. It was more impersonal.

Koujaku’s hands began to roam over Sly’s thighs and his ass, his palms rough but his touch smooth. He began to rub Sly’s lower back soothingly, and Sly began to squirm. A flush rose to his skin as he thought about how Koujaku could see absolutely everything with his legs spread open like that.

“How are you doing, Sly?” He asked, and Sly closed his eyes at the use of his name. Not Aoba’s. His.

“Green,” he breathed against the mat, and he could almost feel Koujaku smiling.

“Good. So good,” he murmured. “So beautiful.” His hand trailed around Sly’s hip, tracing over his lower abdomen before finally curling around his cock, and Sly gasped with relief.  

Koujaku stoked him leisurely, but it had Sly fully erect in just a short time. This was what he had wanted. Bent over with his face pressed to the floor and Koujaku’s hand around him. He opened his mouth to gasp, but it turned into a whine instead when Koujaku let go.

Koujaku hushed him, stroking his thigh again. Sly supposed it was supposed to be comforting. Koujaku stood, but he remained bent at the waist, never taking his hand from some point on Sly’s body. Koujaku grabbed the bag with the ropes in it and began to search through it. Sly’s interest sparked. Was Koujaku going to tie him more?

He didn’t realize he had let out a little gasp until Koujaku chuckled, his voice somehow deeper than Sly remembered.

“More?” He asked. “There’s nearly twenty-four meters of rope on you.”

“It could be thirty-four,” Sly suggested, shifting his hips back to tempt Koujaku. But Koujaku just laughed again. It wasn’t a mean laugh, just amused. Sly couldn’t see what he pulled out of the bag, but he heard the tube pop open and took a guess.

Finally. Sly shifted his hips back a little more until Koujaku’s hand settled on his backside. He settled down behind Sly, in between his legs, and Sly caught his breath. He had been more exposed before, but he had never felt it, not like he did now. He heard Koujaku move, then felt his lips, hot on his back.

“Stop that,” he hissed, although it seemed to sound more like a groan.

“Stop what?” Koujaku breathed against Sly’s skin, and the sudden heat of his breath made him shiver. “Kissing you?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” Koujaku asked. Sly heard him open the lube, but he didn’t get a chance to comment. “I like kissing you. You’re beautiful, and I want you to know it.”

Sly bit his bottom lip, wriggling back a little more. He didn’t want to hear platitudes like that. Kisses were for love, and no one was going to love him.

“Patience,” Koujaku hummed, even as he brushed his fingertips over Sly’s entrance. His fingers were slick, and Sly shuddered at the contact. It was light and teasing, just enough to spread the lube.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to go this slow,” Sly groaned. When Koujaku answered, he could hear the grin in his voice.

“I am. Relax. Let me show you what love is supposed to feel like, Sly.”

And it seemed like every time Koujaku said something tender like that, he would follow it with an action that rendered Sly speechless, unable to respond. He pressed his index finger forward, easing it into Sly’s body, wrenching a gasp from Sly.

“Don’t say things like that!” He ground out, pulling on his bonds.

Koujaku pressed his finger further inside, his other hand reaching out to run over the ropes that wound around Sly’s torso. They almost seemed to vibrate underneath Koujaku’s hand, reminding Sly of his hold over him. He sagged into his bonds, shifting his legs open just a little wider.

He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to do much besides concentrate on the drag of Koujaku’s finger working in and out of his body. It felt good, and Sly heard himself sigh into the mat. Koujaku began to stretch him, then, curling his finger just a little. He knew Aoba’s body, and how he reacted to certain touches, so it was short work to make Sly squirm.

Several times, Koujaku came close to his prostate, but didn’t touch it, making Sly grit his teeth in frustration. He wouldn’t get anything unless Koujaku gave it to him, bound as he was. But maybe that was the point. To lie there and allow Koujaku to give him pleasure, and trust that he would take care of him. But could he trust Koujaku with so much?

He gave Koujaku his body willingly. It wasn’t even his body to begin with. Sly was working on borrowed time, so his body didn’t matter. But his mind, and his trust… That was something that no one else had, and Sly was afraid to give it up. What if Koujaku hurt him?

He squeezed his eyes shut as Koujaku worked another finger inside, sliding them in and out for a while before starting to scissor him open. Sly took a deep breath, feeling the rope pull against him as his ribs expanded, holding him in and keeping him together.

“Sly,” Koujaku murmured softly, his tone reverent and awe-struck. Sly opened his eyes, wishing his hair was covering his face. Koujaku was so embarrassing, and too romantic for Sly’s tastes, but… He didn’t really believe that Koujaku would hurt him. He had never mixed his and Aoba’s names, not once, even though it would be so easy to. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to love him.

Sly moaned when Koujaku’s fingers curled into his sweet spot, his cock growing impossibly harder at the stimulation. Already, this was the most foreplay and preparation than he had gotten from anyone else, so Sly was more than ready to get moving. But Koujaku still didn’t speed up, taking his time to finger Sly open and stroke his prostate.

“Koujaku,” Sly breathed, and Koujaku’s fingers slowed even more. It was maddening.

“Yes?” He asked. “Are you alright?”

Sly nodded, his mouth falling open as he struggles for the right words. “Please.”

Koujaku didn’t make him ask or beg for it, but he didn’t immediately comply. He fingered Sly for a little while longer, and the constant touch to his prostate made him buck his hips back wildly, desperate for more.

When Koujaku finally slid his fingers out, Sly made a small sound of disappointment. Koujaku hushed him gently, and Sly waited impatiently, listening with anticipation as Koujaku popped open the lube again and spread the stuff over his own cock.

Sly sighed, wriggling his hips back to get a little more comfortable. He had had Koujaku’s cock before, but never with so much build up. He wanted it more than he wanted anything else at that moment. He wanted Koujaku’s warm palms on his hips and his breath against his sweat damp skin.

Koujaku settled one hand on Sly’s hip, moving forward to line himself up. He dragged his slick cock over Sly’s entrance, and the anticipation made his stomach twist in nervous knots. He whined a little, tilting his ass back.

“Please, Koujaku,” he whimpered, and Koujaku leaned over him to kiss his bare shoulder. He could feel Koujaku all over, holding his arms back and embracing him and in between his legs and kissing him, and he felt like he could do anything Koujaku asked of him.

With so much support and touch, with Koujaku holding him in and keeping him close, Sly could wait for as long as he wanted. Sly could take on the world, take on himself. It was a new feeling, and a terrifying one, but he could do it.

If Koujaku asked, he would do it.

At last, Koujaku began to press forward, easing into Sly’s body and resting his other hand on Sly’s other hip. His fingers were still slick with lube, but it was hardly a thing to notice, not when Sly was being filled so excruciatingly slowly. He gave a shuddering moan as Koujaku rocked forward, burying himself in Sly’s ass.

It felt amazing, slick and hot, with Koujaku inside him and his hands pulling his hips back. Sly was powerless to do anything else but lie there, gasping against the mat and feeling. Each thrust was firm, but still leisurely, and Sly suspected he would have melted into the floor if he wasn’t tied.

Sly was used to rough, frantic rutting behind a bathroom door in a club, or Koujaku’s fairly vanilla, albeit attentive, fucks. Nothing could have prepared him for how raw and open he felt, nor how deep Koujaku was reaching inside him. He desperately wanted to come, especially since he had been neglected for so long, but he also never wanted it to end.

He started to lose track of time, his brain only able to concentrate on the pleasure he felt each time Koujaku brushed near his prostate. He listened to the sound of Koujaku’s breathing, ragged and strained, like he was forgetting to breathe. For a brief moment, Sly wished he could see Koujaku’s face, to see how much Koujaku wanted him. But even just knowing it was nearly euphoric.

“Koujaku,” he whimpered, and one of Koujaku’s hands left his hip to grasp the ropes encircling his forearms, using it to pull Sly back onto his cock, driving himself deeper. Sly gave a soft cry, his eyes sliding shut again as Koujaku sped up just a little, using his new leverage to its full extent.

“Sly,” he murmured, his tone breathy and hoarse with self-control. Sly made a small sound, shifting and curling his hands helplessly.

“Say it again.” Sly asked, muffled by the mat beneath him and by the shame that coursed through him.

“Say what?”

“My name.”

“Sly,” Koujaku complied immediately, thrusting into him harder and reaching his other hand around to wrap around Sly’s cock. “Sly Blue. You’re gorgeous.”

Sly nearly sobbed from the sudden onslaught of sensation. Koujaku was everywhere, surrounding him, inside his body and his head, and he couldn’t stop himself from moaning aloud as he took in everything Koujaku gave him.

“Please, please, please,” he heard himself begging as Koujaku stroked him, and his body couldn’t decide whether he should rut forwards into Koujaku’s palm or thrust back onto his cock. He ended up helplessly writhing in between the two, too overwhelmed to do anything else.

Sly felt Koujaku grasp his hand, and he was quick to latch on to it. Sly squeezed Koujaku’s rough fingers tightly, and Koujaku held him, rocking into him with a passion that Sly could feel sparking over his skin like fireworks.

When he came, Koujaku’s name dripping from his lips, it was like a wave, rising high and sweeping him away. He shook apart piece by piece, expecting to find himself scattered when he came back to himself. But he was still whole, knit together by the ropes and Koujaku’s hands and Koujaku’s voice harshly calling out his name as he came across the backs of Sly’s thighs.

Sly panted into the mat, sagging into the ropes. He felt exhausted. Koujaku’s hands were on him in an instant, lowering him to curl face down on the mat. Koujaku stroked his hair back, bidding him to wait for a moment, and Sly just nodded.

He didn’t know how long he laid there, letting aftershocks thrill his body and simply loving the braided bonds on his skin. He heard Koujaku come back and kneel next to him to swipe a warm cloth over his body. Koujaku cleaned him gently and thoroughly, his touch careful, reverent still, even though Sly had fulfilled his purpose.

Koujaku helped Sly sit up, wiping his front and pushing his hair from his face. He smiled tenderly at Sly, leaning in to brush their lips together. Koujaku reached out to undo the knot at the bottom of the ropes, easing the rope away from Sly’s skin. Sly could only watch as he was released, feeling dazed and subdued.

Neither of them spoke as Koujaku pulled the entirety of the ropes off, coiling them neatly and setting them beside the bag. He stood and circled Sly to release the ropes holding his arms back, and Sly tipped his head forward to make it easier. Once he was freed, Koujaku carefully brought Sly’s arms back toward his front and pet his hair before standing to put away the ropes.

Sly sat on the mat, suddenly feeling empty without the rope to hold him in. He didn’t want to be freed. He wanted to be back in that constrained space, unable to do anything besides feel and love. He didn’t want to be responsible for himself. He wasn’t ready.

A sob escaped him, and he reached up to wipe tears from his eyes. How pathetic. He was crying over being released, something he wanted so desperately from Aoba all the time. But not from Koujaku, it seemed. He heard Koujaku return to his side, and Sly turned his head away.

“Hey,” Koujaku murmured, pulling Sly into his lap. Sly rested his head on Koujaku’s shoulder, letting Koujaku hold him and encase him in safety again. “This is normal,” Koujaku whispered against his hair. “It’s a rush being tied like that, so when you’re released, you come down hard. It’ll go away, just let me take care of you.”

Sly sniffled against Koujaku’s chest, reaching up to wipe at his face. He felt raw and vulnerable, more so than he would have liked. But Koujaku was strong and solid against him, and that was a comfort.

Koujaku reached for something off to the side, then pressed a cup into Sly’s hands. Sly took it, drinking without looking to see what it was. It turned out to be juice, cool and sweet against his tongue. Sly drank the entire thing, and Koujaku took the cup back when he was done. Sly curled in, starting to shiver from the cool air in the room.

“Come on,” Koujaku murmured, shifting to urge Sly to stand up, and he did so on shaky legs, but he clung to Koujaku. Koujaku didn’t laugh like he expected, instead leading Sly to the bed and wrapping him up in a blanket. He lay on his side, pulling Sly into his chest again, and Sly burrowed down into the warmth he offered.

He felt calmer now, with the blanket around him and Koujaku’s arms over that. He closed his eyes, inhaling Koujaku deeply and dipping his head to brush his lips to Koujaku’s neck.

“How do you feel?” Koujaku asked softly, rubbing his hand lazily over Sly’s back.

“Good,” Sly answered, no bite or barbs in his answer. It didn’t feel right to be disrespectful after Koujaku had taken him apart and put him back together.

“I’m glad. You liked it?”

“Yeah.”

“I did, too. You were so, so good for me, Sly. You looked so amazing, I could hardly control myself.”

Sly smiled. “Maybe don’t control yourself next time.”

Koujaku chuckled, pulling him closer and kissing the top of his head. “We’ll see. Was there anything you didn’t like?”

Sly shook his head. No. To be honest, there was no part of that experience Sly would change, if given the chance. He snuggled in, closing his eyes for a moment before something occurred to him.

“Actually, yeah,” he said, pulling back to look up at Koujaku. “You only kissed me, like, three times.”

“I kissed you more than that,” Koujaku responded, a frown marring his features.

Sly flushed. “I meant on the mouth, asshole.”

Koujaku laughed at that, but before Sly could protest, Koujaku was kissing him, lazy and sweet. Sly was still exhausted, so the kiss left him a little out of breath. It made Koujaku laugh again.

“Good enough?”

“Shut up.” Sly buried his face into the juncture between Koujaku’s neck and shoulder with a huff. He could feel Koujaku grinning, but he was still stroking over his back and holding him close. Sly decided he was too drowsy to complain.

“Sleep for a little bit, hm?” Koujaku murmured. “I’ll wake you to eat later.”

Sly nodded, letting his eyes slip closed, lulled by the warmth and the affection, and the soft sound of Koujaku breathing into his hair,

“I love you.”