The Exile (amurderofcrows) wrote in muse_asylum,
The Exile

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No answer.


Still no answer.


And yet again, no answer.


Hikou had found himself in the couch for the last two days. Houjun apparently had warded the bedroom entirely against him by night, and it left the shitenou growing more and more irritable. Clouds clumped in great, dark masses over the island, and while the two other Hikou's did their best to disperse them, it looked like storms would be immanent due to the lover's spat.

Hikou was tired of the couch. It was cramped, he couldn't extend his wings, and it had no blankets. Most importantly, it had no other warm body on it, either.

Tired of it all, he had gotten up in the middle of the night to yell at the door and wake his lover.

"I swear to heaven and hell, I'm going to flood the house," Hikou snarled, "If you don't open this fucking door right this minute!"

The door opened.

Hikou's jaw dropped.

Houjun was there, long hair mussy from sleep, his single eye half-open, wearing only a sheet.

Only a sheet.

Hikou leashed his libido and maintained his anger. "Can we please end this stupid, idiotic spat now, please?"

"Are you sorry?"

"Sorry for what?!"

The door shut in his face.

Hikou tried not to howl his frustration, and instead, punched the door. Its wood shuddered beneath his blow, but did not give way.


The door opened again. Again, Houjun was there in his sheet, and looking just a little more awake then he had five seconds ago.

"An apology."

"You cannot mean you are still upset over that stupid joke! It's just a joke, Hou-!"

He was not given the chance to answer. Houjun had lashed out and grabbed his robes in his fist, jerking him through the door and forcing him to stumble quickly after the once-monk's direction.

Hikou stuttered and stammered, as he found that his lover, usually so docile, had pushed him to the bed and was quickly straddled. Houjun's broad palm was square in the middle of his chest, his silks a thin barrier between Houjun's living heat and his own cooler body.


"Shut up," the seishi said tersely, his single eye bearing the weight of his irritation. "I am going to give you an object lesson, Hikou. Sempai is teaching. Pay attention."

"H-hai!" Hikou coughed out, as he felt the monk's magic rise again. It was a familiar spell; it simply undid Hikou's clothing and shifted it to nothingness.

The demon could only lay bewildered, as his lover bent, hand sliding into his hair and undoing the bun the demon always wore. It seemed it would be only so he could grip his hair more tightly, causing the slightest hint of pain to tug at Hikou's scalp.

Tenkou save him, but between the shock and the pain, he found the bruising kiss he received arousing. Stirring beneath Houjun, he lifted his hands-only to have the monk reach to grab them and pin them down.

"Object lesson," Houjun said, his voice firm. "Don't move unless I tell you do."

"H-hai," the demon squeaked again, even as he felt Houjun's hands slide down his arms, over his chest, thumbs only briefly passing over his nipples as his mouth slid downward, till he found the demon's stirring arousal.

He had never once been dishonest, Hikou thought as the world when white as Houjun's mouth went to work on his flesh. He was damned good at what he did, when he did it.

Hikou found himself brought to the brink; but a tight hand around the base of his length kept him from completetion. "Gods," he groaned hotly. "Houjun! Please!"

"Object lesson," Houjun repeated a third time; there was another flash of red; something brought to his free hand.

Hikou knew what it was when he felt the slick fluid on his skin, greasing his length, his nethers. Dimly, in the back of his mind, he realized that Houjun going to top him.

Houjun never topped. His docile lover was submissive in his guilt and penance, and while he might fool around, and change positions for the occasional bit of love play, it was never a topping like this, where he proved to be as much a dominant male as much as Hikou was.

Houjun propped himself above Hikou, hips against his lover's. "Object lesson," he said. "But not all lessons are painful, Hikou-kun."

Houjun kissed the demon less harshly now, and the demon was hungry for it. There was no respite to be had; merely the heat of Houjun's body above Hikou's own driving him mad for it.

Hikou's hands twitched at his side, but still he remembered Houjun's terse demands and dared not test the monk's temper. The balance had been set, for a change he was not in charge.

Houjun saw him obey and smiled slightly, between kisses.

"And you can learn, ne?" The monk said; his free hand reached between them, gripping his own length as he guided himself home within the demon.

Hikou's body shuddered beneath his own, as they began to move; Hikou was never as certain beneath his lover as he was atop him, and his rhythm was halting and off-beat at first.

"You can touch me now," Houjun whispered mid-stroke, his fingers gripping the bed sheets beneath the demon.

Without needing anymore instruction, Hikou's hands slid up over Houjun's shoulders and locked behind his neck as they found a more synchronous rhythm.

Houjun was rough; he did not have that in his nature, to be cruel during the act of what should have been love. He was, however, enjoying himself as easily as much Hikou ever had. But he remembered kindness; he reached between them, propping himself up over Hikou on one arm as his other found the demon's hardness and worked him to peak; the demo was nearly there as it was, and it did not take much for Houjun to finish what he had started.

Warmth suffusing his body, Hikou relaxed after his orgasm, feeling Houjun work to his own peak and follow a few minutes later. And then, spent, the monk freed himself from his lover's sticky body and laid down by his side.

Houjun let an arm sprawl carelessly over Hikou's chest, and for a moment, let the silence linger.

"How was that a lesson?" Hikou finally murmured, his body heavy with satisfaction. "I quiet enjoyed it."

"That was the point, Hikou," Houjun murmured. "But I want you to understand something." The monk rolled onto his side and propped himself up to look down at Hikou as they lay together.

"If you continue to banter our love-life about as if it were simply dime-store smut, instead of a love between us, you'll have to find someone else to fulfill your wants. I won't. What we do in our bedroom is our business, and it as a sacred thing, no matter that it is between a forsworn monk and a dead young man who sold his soul. Love is sacred. And you degrade what I give you by speaking of it so callously. If you continued, you won't get it anymore." His single eye was clear with resolve; he meant what he said. "Everything we just had, Hikou, you'll never get from me again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Hikou said with an outrush of breath.

"Good," Houjun said, sinking down to the bed. He gathered up the covers, and curled up within the crook of Hikou's arm.

The demon did something most rare; he snuggled quietly up to his lover, and nuzzled his hair. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I didn't realize what it meant to you."

"Now you do. Don't fuck up again."

"But..." Hikou's voice gained a tiny hint of amusement. "You're sexy when you're all pushy and dominant!"

Houjun groaned against his lover's shoulder, and said nothing at first.

Finally, he found words suitable. "It's good to be sempai," he said with a yawn. "Well, I suppose once or twice, it's fun. But I'd rather not have to be angry to get you to play bottom, ne?"

"Give me a few more object lessons and maybe I'll remember to keep my mouth shut," Hikou said with a smirk.

"Maybe," Houjun said. "Maybe."

The two had no more words, cuddling together to share heat and the glow that lingered on them.
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