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After the first trial they don’t talk, but Ryunosuke swears that as he and Susato-san are hurrying into the defendants’ antechamber Barok van Zieks stares after him. It’s a fierce sensation, a prickle at the back of his neck as suddenly all his hair stands on end, but when he turns around, the Lord has already left his bench. She tugs at his sleeve, and he follows her out, confused and uncertain if he simply imagined it.
After the second trial they… Well, they still don’t talk, actually, but this time Lord van Zieks definitely stares at him. In fact, Ryunosuke catches his eyes as he starts to leave, and the look he gives him is so intense, he finds himself unable to turn away. His heart beats like thunder in his ears and his cheeks heat up and his feet stick to the floor, like some kind of magic has been placed upon him as they stare at each other across the courtroom.
He doesn’t know what it means, cannot even begin to interpret Lord van Zieks’s stony face. All he knows is that he is about to say something very foolish when Susato-san calls his name, and the spell is broken.
Once again the Lord is gone when he looks back over.
After the third trial Lord van Zieks leaves the courtroom at the precise moment the judge’s gavel strikes down. This worries Ryunosuke, though he cannot quite put into words why .
The answer to that question arrives the next morning in the form of a letter, hand delivered by a redheaded footman to 221B Baker Street, summoning him to the van Zieks manor the following Saturday, the 29th of February.
***
It is a stupid idea to go, and stupider still to do so alone, but such had been the instruction and such is the state Ryunosuke now finds himself in. Stepping out of a coach, in front of the absolutely massive house that Lord Barok van Zieks calls home, at 7 PM, after not telling anyone where he was going.
As had been the instruction.
There had been a lot of peculiar instructions about his arrival. Do not tell anyone. Proceed three blocks down from Baker Street in an arbitrary direction. Do not hail a carriage; one will be sent. To be recognized by the coachman, wear the enclosed flower ― one that was not identified in the letter, but after combing through a floral encyclopaedia Ryunosuke is fairly certain it is called devil in the bush, whatever that means.
And of course: do not schedule any meetings for the following day.
Perhaps against his better judgement, Ryunosuke had ignored all those peculiarities and decided on coming anyway, simply because the reason the letter provided for the almost concerning level of discretion was that Lord van Zieks wished to discuss a “delicate matter” with him. Which, to Ryunosuke, sounded a lot like he might be in some kind of a predicament, and in need of Ryunosuke’s assistance. So naturally, he would be remiss if he didn’t meet with the Lord and hear him out.
That’s the reason he’s here. To help.
Alternatively, he is here to be murdered.
It’s still in the air at the moment.
The coachman hops off his seat as Ryunosuke stands frozen to the spot and more or less physically drags him all the way up to the doors. There he slams the iron knocker three times, Ryunosuke’s heart jumping with each echoing hit.
They wait in silence.
The coachman glances down at him. He seems like a nice fellow. In his fifties or so, with thin greying hair and a bushy moustache, he has the air of a common man about him, something Ryunosuke finds surprising given the larger-than-life nature of his employer. He wouldn’t mind chatting with the man as they wait, were he not terrified for his life right now.
“Ya gotta relax a li’l, lad,” the man says, which unfortunately makes Ryunosuke tense up even more. “He ain’t gonna bite ya.”
He chuckles, the laugh lines around his eyes crinkling like they clearly often do. Ryunosuke does not find the comment funny.
He jolts again as with a clunk and a creak one of the massive wooden doors opens slowly inwards.
At the door stands a woman. She seems to be around the same age as the coachman, well put together and matronly. Based on her attire she is highly ranked among the staff, the housekeeper or perhaps a stewardess if Ryunosuke had to guess. Her light blue eyes scan him up and down in a very assessing manner and then she turns to the coachman.
“Welcome back, Fergus,” she says.
“Thanks, Emma,” he says and tips his cap at her. “I’ve brought the lad the Master sent for.”
“Yes, I can see,” she says and then addresses Ryunosuke. “You must be Mr Naru… Naruhodo?” She falters with the pronunciation, then tuts and gives him a deep bow. “Please excuse me. Am I saying that correctly?”
“Oh, uh, Naruhodo, yes," he says and, out of habit, bows back. She blinks rapidly a few times. “Ryunosuke… Naruhodo. I was, um, meant to meet with Lord van Zieks?”
“Of course, please come in,” she says, stepping aside with a sweep of her arm to allow him inside. She gives Mr Fergus a soft smile as Ryunosuke enters. “You can retire for the night, Fergus. The Master does not have plans to leave the estate tonight.”
As she turns to Ryunosuke, the smile shifts, an odd hint of… something in her last words. This, too, worries Ryunosuke.
Mr Fergus tips his cap again and clicks his tongue. Ryunosuke can hear him start whistling a little tune as he walks back towards his coach, until the door is closed and he is out of sight. He wishes he could be as carefree, but in his current situation that seems like an impossibility.
Especially when he realises, belatedly, the implications of Miss Emma’s words.
What about my plans to leave the estate tonight?
“Right this way, please,” Miss Emma says and begins walking before he has even had time to finish the thought. He hurries to fall into step behind her as she leads their way through the spacious entrance hall to the back, where a wide staircase ascends to a small platform with very grand looking double doors. They do not go through those, sadly, but instead she takes a right and continues up another narrower staircase.
He watches wistfully as the front door disappears from view. He better keep an eye on where they go, exactly, in case he needs to vacate in a hurry.
He’ll just… walk back to town, if it comes to it.
It is luckily an extremely straightforward path. Literally, in fact, as the first floor hallway is not terribly long nor does it have any turns on it, unless you count the short corridor immediately to the right from the stairs. There are two doors along the right wall, three along the left, and one more at the end of the hall. The doors, curiously, seem to be all there is. It is really rather empty. Suspiciously empty, even. As they walk onwards he notices spots on the wall where paintings have clearly hung for a very long time, but right now there is nothing. Just like there isn’t anything in the hallway itself, not even a carpet.
“Do excuse the lack of decor,” Miss Emma’s voice addresses the concern he was pretty sure he hadn’t said out loud. “We have just finished renovations here in the East Wing, but have not had the time to refurnish the hallway.”
“Oh, that’s… nice,” he says, almost disappointed in the mundane reason for the emptiness. He wishes he knew more about British interior design, because maybe then he could focus on talking with her about that, instead of the steadily expanding anxiety in his chest.
Not that he would have had time for much of chat apparently, because she stops in front of the first door to the right, and opens it into a lovely little sitting room. There is a dark velvet sofa with two matching armchairs and a low table with a tea set in front of them. Along the walls are a few oakwood shelves filled with books as well as an expensive looking marble chess set tucked in the corner. A fire burns low in the small fireplace, above which hangs a landscape portrait of a picturesque English country house.
All in all, it is almost nothing like Ryunosuke had imagined Lord van Zieks’s home to look like. In fact it is rather… cosy .
“Please take a seat,” she says, motioning him inside. He complies, sitting in the nearest armchair, looking around the room in wonder. She picks up the teapot, pouring a cup for him before pouring a second cup as well. He has a few seconds time to wonder if it is customary in England to pour tea in advance to people not yet present, when to his surprise she sits down in the other armchair. She picks up the teacup, straightens her back, and fixes him with a look that sends a shiver down his spine.
He imagines this is what it would feel like to have his mother chastise him, if his mother had ever cared enough to do that.
“So…” says Miss Emma, and he does not jump up from his chair. “You’re a lawyer, are you, Mr Naruhodo?”
“Oh, more of a student, really,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. Is this a job interview? “I was in my second year at Yumei University, back in Japan.”
“Is that so?” she asks. Her eyes narrow just slightly. Suddenly, more than a mother’s, they remind him of van Zieks’s eyes. “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
It’s odd. Why does that make him feel more at ease?
“Twenty four this summer,” he hears himself say, his mind still caught on the unexpected comparison. She blinks rapidly, her mouth falling slightly open, but she quickly covers the surprise. “I know,” he says sheepishly. “I’ve been told I look younger than I am.”
She smiles at that, bringing the cup up to her lips. “I wasn’t going to mention it.”
And especially now that she’s smiling, she isn’t really scary at all. She seems sweet and approachable, the softness on her face like a glimpse of her true self underneath the professionalism. He is starting to think he quite likes her.
“To be perfectly honest,” she continues after a sip of her tea, “I came to see you in court last week.”
“You did?” he asks, a bashfulness rising in his chest. Of course he had seen the public gallery from his bench, but somehow he hadn’t really thought they were… real people. Or at least people he’d ever meet like this. Then her words really sink it. “Wait, you came to see me ? And not… Lord van Zieks?”
“I did, yes,” she confirms, giving him an amused look. “Master Barok was acting in a rather… peculiar manner after the trial of Magnus McGilded, so I thought it prudent to assess the situation for myself.”
I am a… situation? he thinks, somewhat confused.
“Well… What was your assessment?” is what he asks, trying for a smile that must look terribly awkward.
“I was very impressed,” she says and he refuses to acknowledge how ecstatic that makes him. “You were a great match for him.”
“Oh, haha… really?” he says, running a hand through his hair again, trying to push down the giddy feelings in his heart.
“It was refreshing, seeing him be able to go all out in court once more,” she says and lets out a huff of a laugh. “It has truly been too long since―”
“Thank you, Emma,” cuts in the deep voice of Barok van Zieks, and Ryunosuke tenses immediately, gripping at his trouser leg, “for keeping my guest company until I could arrive.”
Miss Emma, not perturbed in the slightest, sets her cup back on the table before rising gracefully from her seat. She smiles at the Lord standing in the doorway, though Ryunosuke is too terrified to look up and, as such, does not know how the gesture is received.
“But of course,” she says and steps around the sofa table. “We are very accommodating hosts, are we not?”
“‘Accommodating’ would have been informing me he had arrived,” Lord van Zieks grits out. “Instead of making me wander cluelessly in the halls wondering who had been at the door.”
“My deepest apologies, Young Master,” she says. “I was just about to come fetch you.”
“ I’m sure. ”
Ryunosuke really feels like he should not be here for this.
“I shall take my leave then,” she says, ignoring Lord van Zieks’s biting comment, turning instead to Ryunosuke one more time. “It was lovely talking with you, Mr Naruhodo. I hope you have an enjoyable evening.”
Then she leaves, the door clicking closed, and suddenly he feels very, very alone.
A frustrated sigh falls from Lord van Zieks’s mouth.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” he says as he begins to move across the room. “I do hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”
“No, no, not at all!” says Ryunosuke. His eyes are glued to the floor, but in his peripheral vision he can see Lord van Zieks get closer. The tension in the air is smothering. “What is it you wanted to talk about?” he asks while his throat still hasn’t clammed up.
“Skipping all the pleasantries, I see,” Lord van Zieks says, and as he walks past, Ryunosuke can’t help but look up at him.
He almost wishes he hadn’t.
Lord van Zieks is not wearing his cape, nor his jacket for that matter. They are both long gone, as is his necktie, with the few top buttons of his ruffled shirt undone, his clavicle peeking tantalisingly through his open collar. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his slender yet strong forearms.
Ryunosuke would consider the fact he is still wearing his waistcoat a win for decency, but somehow coupled with everything else it just makes him look even more… scandalous .
He wants to pull his eyes away, but just like in the courtroom nine days ago, after their second meeting, it’s like there is a spell cast upon him, making it impossible to look anywhere else. So he watches Lord van Zieks as he walks around the sofa table and sits down in the other armchair previously occupied by his stewardess. He crosses one long leg over the other.
It is hot in the room.
“Very well,” he says, fixing Ryunosuke with an unfaltering glare, one that really, really reminds him of Miss Emma, but also not quite. ”I, too, shall be forthright.”
There is a pause as they regard each other before finally he opens his mouth again.
“I believe that the way you behave in court is an affront to our legal system.”
“Um,” says Ryunosuke and blinks. “Sorry?”
“It is obvious that you lack the necessary experience to truly stand on your own as counsel,” Lord van Zieks continues, ignoring the comment. “Both in regards to British court etiquette, as well as practising law in general.”
Somehow, his gaze becomes even more pointed.
“Your insistence ,” he uncrosses his legs and crosses them the other way, “on employing archaic practices no self respecting lawyer would use is ridiculous, and I cannot even begin to fathom where you find the audacity to say half the things you do in that grand chamber. Your compulsion to pursue every last minuscule detail until the very end is staggering , and yet―”
He pauses and leans in, his eyes narrowing.
“And yet you keep winning,” he says. “You keep stumbling blindly onwards, reaching for those inconsequential seeming inconsistencies with no earthly idea of what you are doing, until you fall face first into the truth . And that leaves me… frustrated .”
Ryunosuke jumps up from his chair. His entire body is telling him to run.
“Th-then,” he starts, struggling to keep his voice level. “Perhaps it is best for me to take my leave.” He gives Lord van Zieks a quick bow before turning and walking across the room at as quick a pace as is polite, or perhaps a little faster. He grabs for the knob and attempts to pull open the door even as he turns slightly to add, “I really am truly sor―”
BAM, a hand slams the door back shut in front of his face, and he freezes on the spot. His heart is in his throat. His eyes are wide. Slowly, so slowly, like he’s trying to not spook a deer at a shrine, he turns until his back is against the door.
Big mistake.
He has no idea when Lord van Zieks caught up to him, doesn’t even know when he stood up, but there he is. Towering over Ryunosuke, his large frame even more imposing up close, and if his body was just telling him before, now it is screaming for him to run, to get out while he can. But he cannot, for there is an arm blocking his escape, and all he can do is stand there, every muscle in his body tense and on edge.
With his body locked up, his mind is flying into chaos. The only thought in his head is that he is going to die. That the Reaper is going to take him and there is nothing he can do about it. That this is where his story ends. That he never should have come here, he should’ve stayed at home, he should’ve stayed in Japan , because now he is going to die. He is going to be killed by this man, this terrifying, gigantic man who… who…
Who smells kind of nice, actually. Like… orange blossoms.
Suddenly a very different kind of instinct is raising its head inside him.
“Pray, forgive the discourtesy of stopping you so forcefully,” says van Zieks in his husky voice, though he makes no move to remove the hand from next to Ryunosuke’s head. If anything, he seems to lean in, ever so slightly. “But it would appear you may have misunderstood what I want.”
“Um,” says Ryunosuke. His tongue darts out to lick his bone dry lips and van Zieks’s eyes flick down to watch it. “What… what is it that you want, then?”
And this time van Zieks definitely leans closer, in fact he leans all the way closer until he is pressing Ryunosuke flush against the door and his mouth is by Ryunosuke’s ear and his breath is tickling Ryunosuke’s neck, and his next words are a whisper full of wondrous promises.
“ I want you to fuck me. ”
A thousand and one words die on Ryunosuke’s lips as he struggles to form a sentence. As he struggles to understand what exactly is being propositioned to him. Surely he must have… misunderstood or something. Misheard? Maybe the word doesn’t actually mean what he thinks it means, although that doesn’t seem likely what with all the things Sholmes has taught him.
He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. Of course he’s thought about it! He is only human after all, and Lord van Zieks is so very, incredibly attractive. And smart. And mysterious. And attractive . And the first time he slammed his leg on his bench during a trial… Well, Ryunosuke sure didn’t sleep a lot the following night.
But still! There is no way Lord van Zieks actually wants to… to… with him ? The one he spends all their shared time insulting and demeaning? No, there must be a mistake.
He swallows thickly. Lord van Zieks pulls back enough to look at him, and his icy blue eyes are ablaze as they stare down at Ryunosuke.
“I, um,” he starts and clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I… understand what you mean.”
Lord van Zieks sighs. “My apologies. I should not have presumed such crass words were a part of your curriculum,” he says and then places his other hand against the door on the other side of Ryunosuke’s head.
Ryunosuke manages to catch the whimper before it escapes him, if barely.
“I mean I would like to have sex with you,” Lord van Zieks says, the low rumble of the words sending all kinds of shivers up and down Ryunosuke's spine. “To have intercourse. Copulate. Breed . Surely, my learned friend, you know at least one of these words?”
“Yes! Yes, no, I mean, it’s fine, I…” Ryunosuke stammers. He needs to look away, before he combusts. Once again, he cannot. “I guess I did understand you… correctly… the first time.”
There is a long silence, during which he attempts to collect his thoughts. Sadly, however, every last one of those thoughts die in his arms as soon as he manages to get a hold of them.
“Well?” Lord van Zieks prompts eventually.
Ryunosuke opens his mouth. His head is still empty. He blinks a few times.
“Yeah, okay,” he says and pulls van Zieks down into a kiss.
The lips do not taste of blood like he feared they might. They don’t even taste of wine like he expected, or really anything else for that matter. But they do feel very nice against his own, soft and pliant as they are. Softer than he imagined, in fact. Softer than his own, and perhaps even softer than―
…
Well, softer than Sholmes’s had been, that’s for sure.
He casts those thoughts aside and hooks his arm around the back of van Zieks’s neck, pulling him closer as he stands up on his tiptoes. An arm wraps around his waist as a surprisingly warm hand settles on his cheek. It, too, is soft. Gentle.
A hum reverberates in van Zieks’s chest as Ryunosuke licks at his lips, and he parts them slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. He is surprised, really, by how unaggressive van Zieks has become; until literally a few moments prior, Ryunosuke was convinced he would be physically attacked by the prosecutor. But here he is now, an air of uncertainty hanging over him.
Perhaps he doesn’t do this very often? As said, he is an incredibly handsome man, but he is also… not very approachable. If Ryunosuke was as terrified of him as he was when they first met, he cannot even imagine how Londoners who know of his reputation feel when they see his menacing scowl.
None of that seems particularly important at the moment of course, as van Zieks tilts his head and tries to pull Ryunosuke up closer to him, the hand against his jaw slipping to card through his hair. His feet are about to leave the ground.
As hot as the height difference is, it will quickly become inconvenient if they continue to stay vertical.
Reluctantly he settles his heels back on the ground. He does not pull van Zieks down with him, but is thrilled to find that he follows him on his own, leaning over him to continue kissing. He rewards him by sliding a hand between their bodies and slipping the highest unopened button of his shirt through its hole.
That catches his attention, and he finally breaks the kiss, even if he doesn't move away.
“Did you…” Ryunosuke breathes against his lips as he pops open another button. “Did you have a room ready, or are we gonna do it here?”
Something flashes past van Zieks’s eyes, hungry and primal. He’s considering it, Ryunosuke can see. Just doing it there in one of the armchairs or the sofa. Maybe on top of the coffee table. Or perhaps on the rug in front of the fire. The ideas leave his mouth suddenly dry.
“Come with me,” van Zieks says, letting go of Ryunosuke, barely waiting for him to move away from the door before he pulls it open. He leads them with hurried steps to the end of the hallway and then pushes Ryunosuke through a door there.
A click and a clack and it is locked behind him.
Half an hour ago that would have sent shivers of terror down Ryunosuke’s spine. He still shivers, but definitely not in fear.
The room he finds himself in appears to be a guest bedroom, with an armchair by the door, a beautifully decorated vanity, some cupboards, and a drawer next to a bed with a dark wooden frame and a canopy with night blue curtains made of rich and heavy fabric. The bed is also big. Very big. He didn’t even know they made beds that big. He can hardly believe it, but it definitely is bigger than the one in the hotel he and Susato-san had stayed at when they first arrived in London. It also looks softer, with several plump pillows against the headboard. Taking everything in, he makes special note of the inconspicuous bottle set on the drawer by the bedside, and the washbasin, pitcher, and two glasses placed on the vanity on the other side of the room.
“How certain were you that I’d agree to this?” Ryunosuke asks. He had a room ready indeed.
“I have seen the way you look at me across the courtroom,” comes van Zieks’s voice right by his ear, and he tenses. Large hands settle on his shoulders, and a ghost of a kiss brushes against the side of his neck. “You are not subtle.”
“I’ve been told,” Ryunosuke says, his mind spiralling out of control again. Has he really been that obvious? “Um, anything specific you wanted to do?”
“I am… impartial,” van Zieks says, and his hands slip down Ryunosuke’s back as he steps away. He sits in the armchair and begins to remove his boots. “So long as you fuck my brains out, we can do whatever else you wish.”
It takes a few seconds for Ryunosuke’s own brain to register the implication.
“W-wait, you want me to…?” he stammers. Van Zieks pauses and gives him an unimpressed look. “To be the one to… do the…”
“Pray, forgive me,” he says and pulls his second boot off. “I thought I was quite clear about that.” He drops the boot with a thud. “When I stated as much from the outset.”
“I, uh, I guess you did. Say that.”
He stands up, and Ryunosuke’s eyes start roaming around the room again.
“It’s just, um,” he says as van Zieks steps up to him. He reaches over and starts idly unbuttoning the waistcoat as he continues, “I don’t have a lot of experience being the, uh. Of doing the, the, hm. You know.”
“Indeed?” says van Zieks. He shrugs the now open waistcoat off his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor at his feet. “That is surprising. But then again, maybe not.”
“What do you mean?” Ryunosuke asks, finally focusing on his face again.
“I mean,” van Zieks says pointedly, “perhaps this is your chance to garner some of that necessary experience I mentioned earlier.”
“Um, how is sex related to the courtroo―?” Ryunosuke starts, but van Zieks grabs a hold of his jaw, smushing his face and cutting him off.
“What you are lacking is confidence,” he says. “Though I loathe to admit it about a Nipponese such as yourself, I can see the potential within you when we stand opposite in the grand hall of the Old Bailey. You simply do not possess the confidence, nor the experience, to draw it out.”
“Ah,” says Ryunosuke, and van Zieks lets his hand drop back down.
He’s not entirely sure how to react to this. His instinct to apologise is trying to kick in, but there was also a compliment in there somewhere, wasn’t there? Should he say thank you instead?
Either way, it certainly wasn’t something he was expecting, coming from the Reaper of the Bailey. It almost feels like he has just been given a glance at something ― someone ― else that lay beneath that ominous persona.
“Are you going to undress?” asks van Zieks, and that breaks that moment. “I do not mind if you want to stay clothed, so long as you take off your shoes and that,” he pauses as he glances down at Karuma, hanging at Ryunosuke’s hip like always, “ katana .”
He frowns a little, his eyes squinting as he takes a closer look at the sword. His lips part ever so slightly.
Ryunosuke grabs a hold of the scabbard, suddenly feeling… threatened again. Or maybe jealous? He doesn’t know what it is, but there is something dangerous in van Zieks’s eyes for a moment, but it passes as quickly as it had surfaced, and they lift back up to his face.
“Right,” Ryunosuke says. He unties the sword from his belt and steps around van Zieks to leave it resting against the side of the armchair. He takes a seat, like the man had previously done, and quickly pulls off his own shoes and socks, setting them neatly near the haphazardly discarded boots. When he looks back up, he finds that van Zieks has moved over to the bed, where he lounges against the headboard.
He stares at Ryunosuke intently, watching his every move. Ryunosuke swallows.
It is somewhat awkward to be undressing under such scrutiny, but he unbuttons his jacket anyway and lays it over the armrest as he stands up. Van Zieks still has his silken shirt on ― though open all the way to his midriff by now ― so he decides to leave his own undershirt on as well, for the time being. He unbuckles his belt and steps out of his trousers before walking over to the foot of the bed.
There he stops and fiddles with the shirthem.
“You are hesitating again,” says van Zieks before crossing his arms. “Why?”
“I… don’t know,” Ryunosuke admits.
“I have invited you into my bed,” van Zieks points out. “And expressed my explicit permission for you to do as you please.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Ryunosuke looks up, his eyes locking with the ones staring him down, expectant and challenging. He sets his jaw and nods. “Yes.”
“In that case,” van Zieks says, leaning back and spreading his arms wide, ”please come over here and ravish me already.”
“Ra-ravish?” Ryunosuke sputters. He wonders if he’s capable of that as he gingerly climbs onto the bed. “I don’t think that, uh…”
“Then don’t,” van Zieks cuts him off, and he blinks at him. “Stop thinking. I should presume you are quite skilled at that, considering how you conduct your defences.”
Ah. There it is. That sounds more like the man Ryunosuke knows. He huffs out a laugh, despite the insult.
“Let’s see what I can do for you without thinking, then,” he says and begins crawling up the bed towards Barok.
He places his hand on his shin as he gets closer, and runs it up his leg. The white sock covering it is soft and it disappears into the leg of his trousers as they are cut and fastened just below the knee. Ryunosuke sits into seiza, then slips a finger under the tight hem. He hooks it over the top of the sock before proceeding to pull the sock out and down. It slides off easily, especially when Barok lifts his leg slightly off the bed, his toes en pointe .
His legs really are magnificent. Quite strong too, if the firmness of the calf muscle under his hands is anything to go by.
Barok shifts, pulling the now sockless foot away from Ryunosuke and setting it onto the bed, slightly to the side. The leg is bent at what somehow must surely be a perfect 90 degree angle, and he rests his arm on the knee in a poised but unconcerned manner. Ryunosuke doesn’t have time to register how open the man suddenly looks, before the other leg is lifted onto his lap.
Dutifully he does the same to that one, using both hands this time to smooth along Barok’s leg as he removes the sock. As soon as it has slipped fully off, Barok pulls that leg up as well, setting it to the side so it mirrors the first one.
And with his legs spread wide like that, Ryunosuke’s eyes are naturally drawn to the very impressive bulge in his trousers. It’s a miracle he didn’t notice it before, but now that he has, it has all of his attention.
He leans forward, crawls a little closer. He reaches over and unbuckles Barok’s belt, pulling it free of its loops. He tosses it to the side and then opens the buttons of the trousers. There is no underwear. The cock simply springs free.
He was expecting it to be big. A man the size of Barok, of course it’s going to be, but this… Would this even fit inside his mouth?
One way to find out, he supposes.
He slips a hand around the base as he bends down and presses a kiss on the tip. He glances up as Barok’s breath hitches, and finds a gentle flush starting to spread onto his cheeks. It’s a stark contrast to the look in his eyes, hooded and fierce, staring directly into Ryunosuke’s very soul. His heart rate triples.
He takes a breath and looks back down. He wets his lips. He opens his mouth as far as he’s able and engulfs the cock.
Barok gasps, and the leg resting next to Ryunosuke’s head twitches. He slips his hand around it and sets it on the thigh, strokes it in time with the movement of his head, with the swirl of his tongue around the tip. The cock fills his mouth completely, but he is determined to go deeper with each press down.
An odd sense of pride fills his chest when he finds that he is, in fact, able to relax his throat enough to take the entire length at once, to bury his nose in the curly hair at the base. That pride grows when he notices how laboured Barok’s breathing has become after only a short while. He continues up and down eagerly, revelling in the little noises Barok makes.
A low moan spills out as Ryunosuke deepthroats him again, and for a second he grips Ryunosuke’s hair with his very long fingers. But almost immediately he drops the hand back onto the bed and grips at the sheets instead.
That’s a little disappointing.
Ryunosuke raises his head off the cock with a wet pop. He gives the head one last lick ― earning himself another gasp ― before looking up and locking eyes with Barok. His face is fully flushed now.
“You know you can touch me too,” Ryunosuke says as he straightens up. He slides his left hand along the leg that got hooked over his shoulder, settles it on the calf.
“Of course,” says Barok breathily as Ryunosuke turns his head and starts pressing kisses along the leg. “I simply feared I may have grabbed onto you too hard.”
“That’s fine,” Ryunosuke says between kisses. He glances over at Barok and grins. “I like it rough.”
Barok inhales sharply.
“ And ,” he continues as he reaches over with both hands, Barok’s leg squeezing between their bodies as he leans forward, “it sounded like,” he slips his fingers into the waistline of Barok’s trousers and tugs a little, “you might do, too.”
He pulls. Barok lifts his hips just in time, and Ryunosuke slips the trousers down his legs. He tosses them somewhere after the belt once they’re off, not really caring where they end up. More important things and all that. His right hand dances like a whisper along the now bare thigh stretched out down the bed, just as his left hand grips the other even closer to his chest. Fair hair covers the skin, soft under his fingers, a far departure from his own coarse leg hair.
“Pray, it’s like you’ve never seen legs before,” Barok says, the roll of his eyes audible in his mocking tone.
“Not legs like these,” Ryunosuke says, his eyes travelling back up the leg with his fingers. They flick to Barok’s face when the silence stretches on. “What? No witty comeback? No scathing insult?”
“I was not expecting you to be so sincere about it,” Barok says, his head slightly cocked. “It took me rather by surprise.”
Ryunosuke chuckles. “Sincere to a fault, me,” he says. “In the good and the bad. That’s what Kazuma always―”
The rest of the sentence dies on his lips.
“…Kazuma,” Barok echoes, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Ryunosuke swallows. The lump in his throat does not budge.
No, stop it, he tells himself. There’s a sharp pain in his chest.
Stop it, he repeats. He feels like he’s choking.
Stop. It. His vision is getting hazy.
He can’t stop.
He’s spiralling.
Warm fingers brush against his cheek, and the world snaps back into focus. Ryunosuke blinks, and after a second his eyes find Barok’s steady gaze. There is no concern on his face, not exactly, but as Ryunosuke stares deeper into his eyes, it does feel like there is kinship hidden behind the customary frown. A pain of his own, the ache of a wound almost healed, but not gone. The shadow of a past, of lingering feelings and the remnants of things only half-remembered.
There is no pity. Only understanding.
“Sorry,” Ryunosuke whispers into the room before pressing himself close against Barok and claiming his mouth once more.
It’s sloppy and desperate. A mess of lips and tongues and teeth. Barok’s fingers push into his hair, tugging him forwards and backwards at the same time, as the other hand grips at the back of his shirt. The leg had slipped off his shoulder at some point, which is a shame but does allow him to scoot even closer and pin Barok snug against the headboard.
Barok groans into his mouth when Ryunosuke grinds their hips together, the low noise sending a wave of exhilaration through him. He keeps grinding, and Barok’s already laboured breaths turn into pants. The grip he has on Ryunosuke’s shirt tightens, but that won’t do.
Ryunosuke sits back again, though Barok seems hesitant to let him go, leaning in after him in a frantic attempt to maintain the contact. It feels almost cruel to break the kiss, but Ryunosuke needs the space to unbutton his shirt. And as soon as Barok realises what’s happening, the disappointment on his face shifts to anticipation. He nearly rips the shirt off Ryunosuke as soon as the final button is undone.
“Oh, eager,” says Ryunosuke, as he reaches over and flicks open the last two buttons of Barok’s own shirt. He splays his fingers against Barok’s abdomen, pushing the garment open as he glides his hand along the warm skin. He notes the several nicks and scars on the man’s chest, traces one down his side with his thumb.
“Yes,” Barok says, more a growl than a word, and that lights yet another fire burning in the pit of Ryunosuke’s stomach. He locks eyes with Barok for a second, before shoving him back against the headboard and reaching for the bottle on the nightstand.
“Let’s not keep you waiting any longer then, shall we?” he says and uncorks the bottle.
The contents are cool against his palm as he pours out a generous amount of the lubricant and coats his fingers with it, before recorking the bottle and tossing it to the side. He loops his left arm around Barok’s leg again, propping it back up as he moves down his body, leaving a trail of kisses from his clavicle along his chest.
He reaches his right hand down and presses a finger against Barok’s hole.
“Ready?” he asks, though it is purely pro forma . Barok is clearly ready. He’s getting impatient, if anything.
He doesn’t answer. He does let out a quiet gasp when Ryunosuke pushes the finger inside.
It slips in with considerable ease. Ryunosuke hasn’t done this to many people before, so he can’t claim to be an expert, but he was expecting a little resistance. Instead he finds that he can push a second finger in just as easily.
“You are… quite relaxed already,” he says out loud and scissors the fingers. Barok moans, his leg trembling slightly, and Ryunosuke strokes it as he works the rim.
“I have, nnh ,” Barok starts but a gasp cuts him off when Ryunosuke inserts a third finger. “I have been rather frustrated for, ah , for some time now.”
“That certainly won’t do,” Ryunosuke says and pushes his fingers deeper.
The cry that erupts from Barok is sudden and loud, and the leg hooked over Ryunosuke’s shoulder yanks him closer as the muscles spasm. Ryunosuke grins and strokes the same spot again. It’s a drawn out moan this time as Barok’s entire body shudders, as his cock twitches and drips precum on his stomach.
Ryunosuke’s own cock has been throbbing in his fundoshi for a good while now, and with a sight like this it is starting to get painful. That’s enough prep then, he decides.
Barok, honest to god, whines when Ryunosuke pulls his fingers out, which Ryunosuke was not expecting, nor was he expecting it to fill his entire body with such a deep urgency . He fumbles with untying the fundoshi, his slick fingers having a hard time finding purchase on the cloth as his eyes desperately scan the bed for where he left the bottle.
Warm hands push away his own, and he blinks, looks over to find Barok leaning forward, and with quick, nimble movements that seem almost practised, he unwraps the end of the cloth and pulls it off.
His eyes widen as the front flaps down.
“ Pray ,” he says and it sounds like he might mean that literally this time. “Do all Nipponese have such… good credentials ?”
“Sorry?” Ryunosuke says. He finally spots the bottle and reaches under Barok’s leg to grab it.
“Your cock is massive .”
He chokes on air.
“Wh―huh? I, uh, what?” he sputters. A hot flush starts rising to his cheeks when Barok keeps staring at it. He glances down himself. “Is it?”
“You are joking ,” Barok says, his eyes finally lifting to Ryunosuke’s face. Though now Ryunosuke somewhat wishes they hadn’t, what with the almost violently incredulous look on his face. “How can you not be aware of such a fact?”
“I, uh, guess I never thought about it?”
Barok takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
“I am going to need you to continue not thinking about it,” he says as he opens them again. They are dark and hungry, the pupils blown wide. Ryunosuke’s heart skips a beat. “And instead fuck me into the mattress already.”
“ Yes ,” Ryunosuke gasps. “Gods, yes.”
He snatches the bottle and pops it open as Barok settles back against the headboard. Although he’s barely against it anymore, having slid down the bed quite a bit. At this point he should probably…
“Move down a little for me, please,” Ryunosuke says and pours more lubricant on his hand.
After a little shuffling he has Barok flat against the bed, his legs on either side of him. He slips his left arm back under one of them, uses it as leverage to lift Barok’s hips slightly off the mattress. He rises up on his knees and presses the tip of his slicked-up cock to Barok’s hole. He takes a moment to compose himself, makes eye contact with Barok.
He pushes slowly inside.
It almost makes him forget how to breathe for a second. The heat and the compression and the friction would surely be enough to get him off on their own, but the low, shaky moan that flows out of Barok’s mouth as the cock slides into him is really trying the limits of his sanity. Using all of his willpower, he stops when he’s bottomed out, to allow them both to adjust and catch their breaths.
Then he pulls back and snaps his hips forward.
Barok lets out a strangled gasp, and Ryunosuke does it again and again, careful not to pull fully out before slamming back in. He pulls Barok’s other leg up to him, hooking that over his shoulder as well, using the thighs for support as he leans over him. Again, and again.
He’s having a hard time concentrating, being so out of breath and teetering on the edge of bliss as he is, but still he shifts his hips a little with each thrust, trying to feel more of Barok, trying to find that perfect angle where―
“ Gh, ahhn―! ” Barok cries out, squeezing Ryunosuke’s cock inside him as all his muscles momentarily tense up from his near-orgasm.
There we go.
Barok is reduced to a panting, gasping mess in two thrusts as Ryunosuke keeps hitting his prostate and, with the way he keeps clenching around him, Ryunosuke is not far behind. But he grits his teeth, determined to get Barok to finish first.
He slides his hands along Barok’s legs and under his hips, lifting them slightly to give him room to pound even deeper into him.
And that does it.
With a voiceless cry Barok arches his back off the bed, releasing his load all over his stomach, and Ryunosuke fucks him through the spasms and the gasps, and for a moment it seems like he might orgasm again with the way he shivers and his breath stutters, but then he sags back into the mattress, limp and breathing heavily.
The pride that swells in Ryunosuke’s chest as he looks down at Barok absolutely spent underneath him ― arms spread out, face and chest flushed, cum splattered on his stomach ― is almost enough to make him forget about his own completion, until Barok slips his legs from off his shoulders and around his waist and pulls him even closer with each new thrust.
Ryunosuke shudders as Barok clenches himself so tight around his cock again and now that he allows himself to fully focus on that it only takes a few more rolls of his hips until the white-hot pressure explodes in a blast of pleasure, and he groans as he, too, reaches orgasm.
It takes him many seconds to start breathing again, and even more for his vision to stop being fuzzy.
“That was…” he starts and takes a deep breath. He scrunches up his brow. “I am not sure of the words.”
“I do not think words are necessary right now,” says Barok, similarly breathless, dropping his legs from around his waist. Ryunosuke nods and with a grunt pushes himself up, his cock slipping out as he sits back into seiza, slumped though it is.
They both just breathe for a moment.
“Oh, right,” Ryunosuke says and scoots off the bed. His legs are a bit wobbly, but they take him to the vanity, where he picks up the washcloth from the basin and wrings it dry. When he turns, he finds Barok staring at him with a curious expression, leaning on his hand with his elbow propped up on the bed.
He doesn’t say anything, but it still makes Ryunosuke feel a bit self-conscious again.
“Um, we should clean you up, right?” he says, gesturing with the cloth.
“Nipponese hospitality,” Barok says and tilts his head. “Even though this isn’t your home.”
“Hm, well,” Ryunosuke says as he walks back over. “I may be a guest, but I can still do this much.” He climbs onto the bed and moves to sit in front of Barok. “Besides, one of us has cum leaking from his arse, and for once it’s not me.”
Barok actually chuckles at that. “It appears progress has been made,” he says and lays back down on the mattress. “Perhaps there is hope for you yet.”
“Sorry, what progress?” Ryunosuke asks. He has no idea what they’re talking about anymore. He reaches over and starts wiping Barok’s chest.
“In regards to your lack of experience,” Barok says and then sits up suddenly. Ryunosuke flinches, just a little, and looks up to hold Barok’s intense gaze. “You must be feeling a bit more confident, to be saying things like that to me, my lewd friend .”
“ Oh ,” says Ryunosuke and looks away. Not because he’s scared of the challenge flaming in Barok’s eyes, but because he is really very attractive like this, all dishevelled and glowing and towering over him. He’s getting a little bit excited again.
“Anyway, I believe you still have work to do,” Barok says. Ryunosuke turns back, cloth at the ready to continue cleaning, only for Barok to grab a hold of his jaw with his very big hand.
Ryunosuke blinks. Barok tilts his face up.
“As I recall, the deal was for you to fuck my brains out,” he continues. “And seeing as I still have cognitive functions, it would appear you must try a little harder next time.”
“Next time,” Ryunosuke repeats, a little smushed. Barok just stares at him, the hunger not nearly satiated. “Right now?”
“Did you have somewhere else to be?” Barok asks, but it is a trick question. The invite had told him not to schedule any meetings.
Suddenly a lot of things make a lot more sense.
“Well then,” Ryunosuke says as he rises up on his knees to be at eye level with Barok. He wraps his arms around his neck and licks his lips. “Let’s see if I can’t get you to stop thinking too.”