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Below metal gods and neon temples lies the grimy underbelly of Tokyo; A place where your desires are just the right price – paid in money or blood – away. In sanctimonious backstreets narcotics are lit like incense, beggars kneel on the asphalt like zealots waiting for their fix of salvation, praying to their saints of pain and ecstasy offering them a glimpse of liquid paradise in dirty syringes.
Those who can’t be kept under control with drugs, are kept on a leash with sex or fear, sometimes smudging the line between the two. He who can give is a prophet, he who can take what he wants a god; the hand that feeds is often also the hand that strangles. Those that wish to not only survive, but live know to worship the name Ryomen. Long have they ruled the backstreet with an iron fist, two faces to a name, excess and control. A phantom in the police files, a reverent whisper on the streets.
No one knows neither their name nor face, nor do they know how many people operate under the alias. And you’d do wisely to keep it that way, if you value your life. You should avoid looking for them, because the last thing you want is them looking for you. Because without fail, they always leave a trail of limbs and blood leading to the finely diced remains of those foolish enough to try their luck.
Stay out of their business, and their business is open to you, or so the saying goes among their followers. The black market, underground gambling, fighting rings, brothels. Anything that can make money will make money, and any money made on this side of Tokyo flows through their hands.
Brothels were by far the most lucrative. They sprout on every second corner now, disguised as tea shops and cafés to the unknowing eyes. Competition is fierce; it is assured that the longer a brothel has been established, the higher the quality will be. Among the oldest there is one standing above the rest in not only quality or price, but prestige. Rumors have it that the place even has ties to the Ryomen themselves.
The Tiger’s Inn, a tea shop with a prestigious flair, where old money and tradition meets sleek and modern designs with dim lighting. One look at the price tags was enough to separate the clientele into those able to pay and those unworthy of even entering. Those fortunate enough to have the necessary funds would find themselves served with the highest quality of tea leaves, sorted from harvest to roasting, prepared on the spot or in small, expensive packages for home consumption. But those looking for even more exquisite wares knew to order the Western Tiger blend only available for pick-up after the shop’s opening hours. A bundle wrapped in silks and precious metals, a smile painted red on their lips. Goods so exquisite, they are locked away on the upper floor, hidden from prying eyes by a painted paper screen.
The sliding door closes shut with a quiet thud. The man walks to the middle of the room, one hand already loosening the sash of his hakama, a hardly subtle omen of what his business is. The room is not too spacious, but neither is it cramped. Layered wads of incense, spiced and heavy on the tongue, curl and thread through the air. Painted lanterns illuminate the room, throwing long shadows contrasting the warm lights against the wall. About a third of the space is hidden behind a paper screen, adorned by a tiger painted on the paper canvas. But instead of being depicted as pouncing or fighting it is shown lounging in the grass, the wild beast docile and calm. The lanterns behind the screen cast a shadowy figure against it. The figure sways like a candle in the wind, but the man just as easily believes it might just be a trick of the flickering lights.
“Zen’in… Naoya…-san…?” A voice calls out, the rough edges of masculinity rounded by demure subservience.
“That’s Zen’in-sama for you, my little tiger.” The shadow freezes. “Of course, Zen’in-sama.”
A smirk spreads on the Naoya’s lips, curling into satisfaction at the edges. The pretty little thing would do well to listen to his demands after the amount of time and resources it took him to secure a taste of the Western Tiger. A goal to chase for the ones that have it all and still hunger for more. A possession befitting someone as influential as the next heir of the ruling Zen’in clan. “Will you continue hiding or do I get to see what I paid for?”
Heavy fabric rustles, and the figure emerges, transitioning from a shadowy fantasy to a dream made reality, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. It takes the form of a young man, no older than twenty. His hair is a soft pink and his lips a vibrant red. The slant of his eyes is emphasized by crimson eyeliner sharpening into pointy ends, the orange light of the lanterns illuminating the room make his face throw warm shadows. The red, silken brocade kimono hugs his broad, muscular frame, the dark-blue brocade obi tying him into a feminine shape. The sleeves are embroidered with black and golden threads, weaving into a striped pattern, and a tiger seemingly climbs up from the bottom, protectively wrapping it’s body around him. The clothing, luxurious as it is, restricts his movement so it slows to a crawl.
Naoya is delighted to see that he towers over the younger man, despite the latter wearing plateaued shoes. His eyes trace the neatly folded v-line of the kimono on his neck, already imagining his mouth on the soft, tender skin hidden underneath. The boy comes to a halt at a respectful distance, eyes submissively trained to the ground. Clever thing.
“What’s your name, little tiger?” The boy chews on the inside of his cheek, and it makes Naoya frown. Is he going to disobey? Does a simple whore dare to disrespect him, one of the most influential men in Tokyo? But before he has a chance to lash out, the boy makes up his mind and responds. “It’s Yuji, sir.”
No last name? Well, chances are that isn’t even his real name either.
Naoya grabs a chair and puts it in the middle of the room. “Alright then, Yuji. I sure hope you know how to do your job as well as you know how to test my patience.”
Yuji nods like he does but doesn’t move to act on it. Impatiently, Naoya clicks his tongue, and it makes the boy flinch. Good. At least he knows to be afraid.
“Kneel.” Naoya commands, a finger pointing down between his legs, leaving little room for interpretation. And Yuji, eyes still cast to the ground, obeys. The long sleeves of his kimono pool on either side like banners of war lowered in surrender. Naoya licks his lips, a gourmet looking at his meal. God, he can’t wait to peel him out of those clothes. But he needs to be patient for now. He tugs at his own clothes, freeing his half-erect cock from the confines of his hakama. Yuji still doesn’t look up at him, even as his manhood dangles right in front of his face.
“Good boy.” The name is more like a taunt than genuine praise. “Now suck on it.” The word whore is swallowed. He doesn’t want to scare away his new plaything just yet. He’ll play nice with him until he has sunk his fangs inside of him deep enough so he can’t escape.
Yuji obeys, one hand supporting himself on Naoya’s thigh and the other one wrapping around his shaft. His lashes flutter as his lips close around the head of Naoya’s cock, brown eyes flicking upwards shyly. Naoya captures his gaze, and the brazen intensity with which Yuji returns the heated gaze sends a throb straight to his dick. The boy must’ve noticed it as well; he gulps, readjusting the grip around his length as it rapidly fills out to its full size in his palm.
“No need to be shy with me, you can keep looking.” Naoya all but purrs, moaning as more and more of his shaft is enveloped by Yuji’s warm, wet mouth. When his tip meets the back of his throat it dawns upon Naoya that he has no gag reflex. A laugh bubbles up in his chest at the revelation, one of his hands gripping a fistful of hair on the back of the boy’s head. What a wondrous little find, maybe he’ll turn out to be worth the hefty investment.
“You little minx… I would’ve come for you sooner if I had known what kind of treasure lies hidden away here.” He moans loudly as Yuji finally took all of it in, Naoya using the firm hand in his hair to push his nose further into the coarse pubic hair in his crotch. He can feel the drool wetting it at the base.
“Would’ve whisked you away from this place… Mhm… kept you all to myself at the estate…” Yuji swallows around him and it’s divine; raw, focused willpower is all that kept him from coming down his throat right in that instant.
“I’ll steal you away from the Ryomen soon enough…” He murmurs in between gasps and moans, shallowly thrusting into his mouth. He’s babbling on, high from the spell his new little toy has him under. Yuji looks up at him with focused eyes, his brows knit into a frown. “Gonna make you my little wife, mh? Make you come live with me. Mhm… ah…. You’ll love it, it’s right at the edge of Tokyo. Separated from the city by a forest, on top of a hill so you can enjoy the view over tge city… Mhm-ah- hah-!” He almost spills again, but thankfully Yuji stopped bobbing his head just in time to save his dignity. He evens his breath, resolve in his heart.
“I’ll make you my personal little whore once I have take down the Ryomen…” He whispers, a dark promise. In that moment, teeth close around his cock, right at the base. The world stills. Before Naoya realizes what is happening, they dig into flesh, cut through arteries and spongy tissue. Yuji’s jaw clamps shut, the taste of copper blooms on his tongue.
The pain sets in with a delay, pushing away the lingering oxytocin clouding Naoya’s mind. He cries out with a roar, tears clinging to his eyelashes. “You whore-!” He rages while Yuji gags until the severed appendage falls into his hands before tossing it aside without a care in the world.
“You filthy bitch, how dare you-“ He howls, pain making his body convulse. Yuji look up at him writhing in pain, eyes calm, cold, uncaring. “I’ll strangle your pathetic soul out of your body and flay you alive…!” Naoya gets up, staggering, one arm raised to make good on his promise. A second before it can slam down on Yuji, a muffled noise is heard; something cutting through air, an ominous hum. Naoya freezes, then falters. The burning rage drains from his eyes as the blood does from the hole in the back of his head. His body wobbles and falls down next to Yuji, who doesn’t bat an eye. His gaze is instead fixed on the bullet hole in the sliding door screen.
The door opens, and a face so similar to his own appears. It’s sharper, more mature, black ink tracing angular lines down his jaw. His counterpart is bulkier, way taller than the average Japanese. A white button-down barely hides the mass of raw muscles, and the dark fabric of his slacks barely hides the dried blood stains. His hair is the same shade of pink as Yuji’s, but his eyes as crimson as the puddle seeping out of the rapidly cooling corpse on the ground. They only spare the dead man a stray glance. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” He scoffs, voice a deep timbre that makes Yuji shiver down to the essence of his very being.
“Sukuna!” The boy squeals, and his well-practiced mask cracks. A wide, toothy smile spreads on his face as if he didn’t just watch someone die at his feet.
“Brat.” His older brother huffs. He might act annoyed, but Yuji knows he’s glad to see him as well.
Sukuna steps around the body on the floor, taking Yuji’s hand in his and his other hand resting on his cheek. Yuji nuzzles into it, the powder on his face stains his palms. “He was about to kill you.” Sukuna states, matter-of-factly.
“But he didn’t. I knew you wouldn’t let him.” Yuji smiles serenely. It makes Sukuna harrumph, not entirely pleased with his answer. He pulls his younger brother to his feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders so he doesn’t immediately lose his balance and keel over. The frown on his face deepens the more he looks at the scene in front of him.
“I don’t like that he touched you.” Yuji chuckles. The pout on his brother’s face is adorable. “But it made him talk. We now have confirmation that the Zen’in are up to something and have a few clues on their hide-out.” The glint in Sukuna’s eyes is dangerous. “I don’t like that he touched you.” He repeats with more force, doubling down on his dissatisfaction with the situation. His eyes wander to the detached appendage in the corner of the room and his expression turns conflicted, to say the least.
“Hey…” Yuji says, cupping Sukuna’s face with both hands, forcing him to look at him and him alone. “You know I am yours.” He tries to pacify him, but Sukuna snarls. “He put his disgusting thing in your mouth.” He states his observation, and Yuji can tell that the Zen’in estate will burn to ash soon enough by the tone of his voice.
“I made sure he paid for it, brother dearest.” Yuji tries to pacify him.
“And I made sure he will never make the same mistake again.” Sukuna growls, wrapping his arms around Yuji possessively. Yuji tries to calm him down by rubbing his back, with little success. “I won’t let anyone have you. You are mine, Yuji.” He whispers, and it sounds more desperate and vulnerable than aggressive. Sukuna mouths at his jaw while Yuji gently combs his fingers through his hair, soothing him like a mother would her sulking child. Sukuna’s hair is still damp from the sweat.
Sukuna takes his chin and presses his lips onto Yuji’s, wasting no time to push his tongue past his lips. If he can taste Naoya on his tongue, he doesn’t show it directly, only swipes his tongue through Yuji’s mouth diligently, brushing against his gum and teeth. They part with a wet pop, both of them visibly flushed, though the dim lighting makes it hard to see.
“He didn’t touch you anywhere else, did he?” Yuji shakes his head no.
“Did he cum in your mouth?” Yuji shakes his head again, sucking the taste of Sukuna’s saliva from his own tongue. The sigh of relief Sukuna lets out makes his heart soar. He pulls Yuji with him towards the chair in the middle of the room, kicking a motionless limb out of the way. Sukuna sits down, putting Yuji in his lap and pushing their chests flush together. The scent of spiced cologne, blood and sweat makes Yuji nestle his nose even further into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply as if it is the oxygen in his lungs. In turn, Sukuna puts a hand around his waist, pulling at the obi while the other hand snakes under the silk and up his thigh.
Yuji is the one to initiate the next kiss. Chaste and sweet, but it makes Sukuna moan into it. “Oh Yuji…” He purrs, and he smirks when he finds his fingers tugging at lace on Yuji’s hip. As always, he’s so well prepared for him - as if that Zen’in kid even knew what to do with his little brother if he ever got this far. He tugs at the fabric, hooking his fingers under it.
“You little minx…” He mockingly echoes Naoya’s words. “That petulant child wouldn’t have known what to do with you, would he?” His fingers find Yuji’s velvety folds, rubbing up and down his slit. They come back wet and sticky – his brother is practically dripping already.
“This world would eat you alive if they knew what a pretty little pussy you are hiding underneath...”
“Sukuna…” Yuji whimpers, burying his face in his brothers chest. Shivers wreck his body, and they don’t go unnoticed as Sukuna’s fingers turn into feather light touches. If this goes on, he might just come from his brother’s fingers rubbing his slit alone. They gently grind against where his clit is hidden, eliciting a needy whimper from the boy.
“What is it, my little tiger?” Sukuna asks with faked concern, as if he needs Yuji to tell him. As if he doesn’t know how much Yuji needs him to make him whole. As if this is the first time he has rubbed his brother’s cunt. As if it’s going to be the last. They are way past that. Maybe they were already born like this, too far detached from society and its morals in their own little Garden of Eden.
“Is my little brother this wet just from me killing someone for him, mhm?” Yuji moans blissfully and rolls his hips into Sukuna’s touch. Spot on.
Sukuna’s mouth traces down Yuji’s neck, leaving a trail of bites and kisses down to his clavicle, making Yuji take little gasps for air.
“Are you not going to answer, brat?” A single digit crooks, parting his slippery folds and rubbing at his brothers plush hole. He presses another kiss into Yuji’s neck, smirking when his lips touch warm, flushed skin. Not like he needs Yuji’s words to answer his question, he thinks absentmindedly while his fingers idly circle his fluttering entrance. It drives the brat crazy, he knows it does. His Yuji has no patience, but Sukuna loves to play with his food. One person’s torment, another person’s pleasure.
His finger pushes in, not even to the first knuckle, but Yuji keens and softly moans into his chest already. What a thoroughly impatient boy, getting this excited from so little… But Sukuna is in a benevolent mood today and decides to reward his little brat with pushing a second thick finger two knuckles length into his cunt. His brother’s greedy hole clenches around him as he crooks his fingers, observing how the boy on his lap reacts, jumps, shudders and mewls from his digits scraping and bumping against his slick walls. Yuji’s the most beautiful when he’s on his lap like this, all his to consume. A lamb obediently sitting in the wolfs maw. Sukuna circles his clit with his thumb like a vulture circles above its next meal, teasing the nub with the patience of a saint.
“Sukuna…” Yuji moans, and it might just be one of Sukuna’s favorite sounds. “Talk to me, brat. What do you need…?”
“Need you…” Yuji babbles, high on his brother’s attentive love. “Oh…?” Sukuna cocks an eyebrow, knowing that Yuji can’t see it with his face pushed into the fabric of Sukuna’s shirt. Embarrassment makes Yuji try to bury his face even deeper into his chest, smudging trails of make-up into his clothes. Sukuna pulls his fingers out, completely retreating them from his brother’s undergarment. “Show me.” He commands, shifting him to rest on one of his thick thighs. Naughty little thing is already rocking back and forth to put pressure on its crotch, seeking to alleviate the burning pain of being empty - Sukuna can feel a damp spot forming on his pants where his brother’s fluids seeps through his panties and onto his pants.
“Mhm…” Yuji groans, eyes fluttering shut and brows knit with fervent focus, his arms flung around Sukuna’s neck for support, working himself on Sukuna’s leg with ardent enthusiasm and body running feverishly hot with pure lust. Sukuna chuckles; his brother can be so cute when he’s needy. If Sukuna was hard before he is now rock-solid, cock throbbing against the confines of his clothes.
“…’kuna…!” Judging by the increasing frequency of moans and gasps, Yuji is getting close. Such an earnest effort deserves a reward, and being the ever-gracious man he is, Sukuna raises his knee just enough so his leg is pushed snugly against his brother’s pussy. The deep moan it punches out of Yuji is downright sinful, making all of the blood in Sukuna’s head drain straight into his cock. He needs to be inside of his brat, right now. Like a reflex to his urges, his fingers grip the back of Yuji’s kimono like it’s the tether between this life and the next, while the boy rolls his hips desperately, selfishly chasing his own climax.
Not yet.
Sukuna lets go of the fabric and places his hands on his brother’s hips, urging him to stay still. And still is what he does, the obedient thing that he is, ragged breath still coming in stuttering bursts and eyes glittering with unshed tears, glazed over with an edge of ecstasy.
It always leaves Sukuna awestruck. How easy and trusting his brother is. How beautiful, ethereal. A lotus blooming in the mud, a white canvas for Sukuna to paint in his own colors. His large hand cups his face perfectly, a frame for his masterpiece. He can feel Yuji gulp where his palm rests against his throat. The blood under his skin thrums beneath his touch, a pulse of life so easily at his mercy.
Sukuna leans forward and presses his lips on Yuji’s. He can almost pretend it was a kiss out of love, if it wasn’t for the roaring beast caged in his bones. Yuji makes it so easy to give, even for someone who only takes and devours, consumes until there is nothing left. It’s like they are one flesh that was split at birth, perfectly completing each other. The hungry void of Sukuna only filled by the unceasing excess of Yuji’s heart, mind and soul. Sukuna wants it all. He wants to take, use, consume, wants to hunt and kill and feast…
He pulls away and takes a breath to regain control, but it is quickly stolen away again. Soft lips capture his, taking his control and still demanding more. Feverishly, like a starving animal. Yuji pulls on his lips, licks against his teeth, a plea. And Sukuna obliges, welcoming his tongue into his mouth where their essences mix; air and spit mingling, teeth clashing against each other in ravenous clumsiness. Sukuna pulls his brother closer by the waist. It takes a bit of struggling until Yuji is seated comfortably on his lap again, legs dangling off on each side. The smug smirk and pink tint on his cheeks on his face are evidence that he’s more than aware of Sukuna’s erection pressing against him.
“Stop grinning like an idiot, brat-“ His scolding is cut off by a hiss. The smirk on the brat’s face had grown, his pussy grinding against his brothers clothed length, sending waves of tingling pleasure traveling up and down his spine. Enough! the beast inside of him howls, snapping at its cage. “Enough.” Sukuna commands, grinding his teeth to keep himself grounded. It comes out less forceful than he had originally intended it to be, but Yuji obeys nonetheless. He’s smart. He has to be, if he wants to live.
Sukuna leans back, arms dangling behind the backrest. A curt nod downwards is all he needs to get Yuji to work, the smaller boy obediently pulling down the zipper that had kept them separated. As the fabric parts and the strain on his crotch lets up, Sukuna can’t help himself but groan at the relief. He hears and feels everything his brother does to him, the air crackling with the high voltage running through his buddy in anticipation. Nimble hands push down the waistband of his boxer briefs, lithe fingers wrap around his cock. He lets his head fall back and stares at the ceiling. Yuji pumps his length once, then twice, it makes Sukuna inhale a sharp breath. The corpse is slowly going stale, he can taste it on his tongue.
Yuji’s ministrations pause for a few moments, the smacking of lips and the squelch of a wet tongue telling him that his brother has remembered his lessons well. Sukuna loves the pain he inflicts, thrives in it. But Yuji is not his to destroy - not like he would mind the possibility. Sukuna snorts, quickly suppressing the thought again. Selfish as he is, at the end of the day he’s a doting brother.
Fingers wrap around his cock again. His hips buck thrust into waiting palms, warm and wet and slick with spit and the slowly accumulating precum dripping down. The boy will need to lubricate his cock properly, if he doesn’t want to hurt himself.
“You’re doing so well, my little tiger.” Sukuna purrs without looking at him. He’s not even looking at the ceiling anymore, purely enjoying the pleasure of the moment with his eyes closed. The wet noises stop. Sukuna smirks, an expression that he keeps between him and the empty space above. His little brother loves to follow protocol, like clockwork, every single time.
“Sukuna…” The air is heavy around them. Sex, blood, incense. Intoxicating. Just the way he likes it. He takes another deep inhale. Balls his fists, relaxes them again. Waiting, prowling. Letting Yuji squirm on his lap until he knows his impatience is close to hitting it’s breaking point.
Finally, he hums, a non-verbal permission for Yuji to continue.
“…Can we… Can we do it…?” He’s barely even able to hide the eager excitement making his voice tremble.
“You can do better than that.” Sukuna tuts. “C’mon, use your words, brat.” He lets his head roll forward so he’s face to face with his brother again. It almost makes him want to shield his eyes, his brother’s debauched state blinding him like the sun. Too bright, too radiant. But he doesn’t; instead, he drinks in every detail of his brothers face, from the tears pooling at the edges of his eyes to the small pout of his smudged scarlet lips. He will never grow tired of this view.
“F-fuck me…” Sukuna cocks his eyebrow in response. His brat is daring today, commanding him around like that. It makes Sukuna even more eager to show him his place.
“Beg.” His voice is almost indifferent, as if he isn’t dying to bury himself in his brother’s cunt as well. He watches his words take effect immediately, sees his blush deepen and his tongue dart out to lick his lips hungrily.
“Please, Sukuna… I need you to f-fuck me.” Sukuna remains silent, peering down at him expectantly. Yuji licks his lips again. Sukuna’s eyes wander to the cold body on the ground, blood seeping into the tatami floor.
“First you force my hand to kill some scum for you, and now you have the nerves to make demands as well.” It’s not like Sukuna dislikes the act of killing per se, he just hates having to do it out of necessity. Just thinking about that scum laying even a single finger on his brother has his blood boiling with cold rage. Maybe he should’ve kept him alive, a quick death is too much of a mercy-
“Please, Suku-nii…” Yuji whines, high-pitched and needy. The brat knows exactly what effect that nickname has on him. It rips Sukuna from his violent fantasies, makes him melt and feel weak in a way that he only allows himself to be when he’s with Yuji.
“You little minx.” He growls, casting his inhibitions aside. He’s done holding back.
With a snarl, he heaves the boy on his cock, his throbbing length pressed against his slit. Yuji yelps at the sudden motion, groaning when he feels his brother’s shaft rubbing against the fabric of his undergarment. He holds onto his shoulders, nails digging into Sukuna’s skin through the flimsy protection of his shirt. A single, experimental thrust coaxes a wanton moan from him.
“You slut, I bet you enjoy the attention, hm? Bet you get excited from selling yourself to those people under the pretense of gathering information, huh?” The palm of Sukuna’s large hand strikes his brothers ass underneath his clothes, the slap ringing in his ears. A single, shameful tear rolls down Yuji’s cheek.
“No, you’re wrong I-“ Another slap chokes him off. It stings, Sukuna made sure it does. But he knows Yuji can take it. He’s a big boy after all. He made sure he grew into one.
“I bet you parade your hole around for anyone to use, you whore.” He muses, feeling nothing as his hand strikes again. Yuji is crying now, genuine tears of shame and frustration. Sukuna wants to lick them dry, but he doesn’t.
“No, no…” Yuji pleads in-between sobs. “Only you! My hole is only for you, Suku-nii!” His hand stops just before it would have struck again. Sukuna sucks in a sharp breath, commanding Yuji’s attention.
“Is that so.” He huffs, one thumb idly rubbing circles into Yuji’s hip. “Mh... yes…” Yuji mewls.
The rubbing stops. Instead, Sukuna hooks a finger under the line of Yuji’s panties, pulling the fabric aside and adjusting the angle his brother sits on top of him, the thick head of his cock nudging the rim of Yuji’s fluttering hole. Enough to put pleasant pressure on it, but not enough to catch onto it. In this position, Yuji hovers just slightly above him, leering down through wet lashes, patiently holding still like a puppy waiting for permission to eat.
“Brat.” Sukuna warns, despite knowing that he doesn’t have to. “Please…” Yuji whimpers, and the desperation in his meek voice makes the last bit of Sukuna’s resolve crumble to dust. His hands grab his brother’s ass to support his weight, his cock pushing deeper, just enough to turn the pressure into a dizzying stretch.
“Gonna make me do all the work?” He taunts, feeling how his brother’s hole eagerly clenches around him. Yuji wastes no time, lowering himself onto Sukuna’s length with a long, drawn-out moan, guided by Sukuna’s hands holding him steady and giving the globes of his ass a reassuring squeeze. With a grunt tip-toeing the line between pleasure and pain, Yuji comes to a stop, now fully seated on his brother’s length.
Yuji’s eyes flutter, then shut. His hole has long since been pounded into the perfect shape for Sukuna’s cock, but every time it spears him open anew he can’t stop himself from taking a few moments to admire the feeling of being full, of being complete.
“Good boy…” Sukuna mutters, a single bead of sweat forming on his temple. “So good for me. So perfect for me.” The shiver running under Yuji’s skin doesn’t escape the touch of his fingers, and he rewards him by gingerly caressing the supple skin in his palms. He lifts him up slightly, his length sliding out by just a finger width before sliding back in, the head of his cock comfortably resting pushed up against his brother’s womb.
“Always taking me so well… My perfect little cocksleeve.” Sukuna murmurs, and Yuji, the little vixen, tightens. Delicious – Sukuna licks his lips.
“You like that, don’t you? Having your brother use your hole.” Yuji’s response is a pathetic mewl, less than human, though he still insists to fight it.
“No… You’re wrong…”
Always trying to find excuses. Sukuna shuts them up by effortlessly lifting him until only half of his cock remains inside of him. Words become replaced by little Ahs and Ohs as the shape of his cock scrapes against the bumps of Yuji’s walls.
“Wrong…?” He mutters into Yuji’s ear like it’s a threat. “Oh, for something so wrong, it feels so fucking right.” His words are underlined by a buck of his hips, a shallow, yet effective thrust. He sets a slow rhythm, lazily bouncing Yuji on his cock until both of them are panting lightly.
“M-more…” Yuji begs, already drunk on cock. Sukuna gives him more, gives him all he has, sheathing himself to the hilt in Yuji’s pussy again. More, more, more, Sukuna wants to take more, give more, be one with this piece of himself that he so cherishes and wishes to destroy. His hands slide down, gripping the underside of Yuji’s thighs tightly and, with a heave, he gets on his feet, lifting Yuji up with him like he weighs nothing. He steps on the Zen’in kid’s lifeless hand, feels the bones break under his heel, all the while appeasing Yuji’s impatient whines with tender little pecks on his lips.
He can barely control himself, fire burning in his throat when he slams Yuji into the wall, knocking the air out of the boy. Ever the generous brother, he shares his own air with him in a ravenous kiss. At first his teeth tear on his lips, then his claws rip into the tender flesh of his thighs, leaving red streaks on his skin. Little hiccups are punched out of the boy with every single merciless snap of Sukuna’s hips. He can feel his length bullying itself so impossibly deeper inside, sees where the outline of his cock is visibly shifting underneath soft skin.
Yuji is desperately running his hands up and down his back in search of reprieve, insides squeezing and churning around his brother’s cock. Sukuna finally sets his lips free again, moving his tongue and lips and teeth to paint a second trail of marks – of his claim – down his neck. His hips snap upwards in a breakneck pace, hammering against Yuji’s insides over and over and over again until Yuji nearly screams, chokes, gasps and sings the sweetest prayers.
“All those filthy men…” Sukuna growls amidst skin slapping against skin, voice distorted, guttural, feral. “All those men touching you…” He inhales deeply - the sex, the blood, the incense. It makes his head spin, Yuji, his heart, his soul, his love, his sweetest drug. His. Sukuna’s fingers dig into the soft flesh on the boy’s hips, his other hands slamming against the space above him to stabilize himself as he fucks Yuji into the wall, caging him in-between.
“Yuji…. Yuji… Yuji…!” Sukuna chants as he chases after paradise, salvation not far away. He can tell Yuji won’t last much longer either, the poor boy’s inside greedily twitching around Sukuna’s cock, hands in Sukuna’s hair clutching at the thin strings of his self-control.
“Gonna cum inside of you, little brother.” Sukuna growls, Yuji’s answer an incoherent slur of what might have been words if he wasn’t on the edge of losing an uphill battle against his self-restraint. “Gonna… Gonna fill up your pretty little cunt…” He grunts as his thrust grow slower, more measured as they batter the boy’s womb with relentless precision instead of force. A shudder wrecks his whole body as the first spurts of cum spill inside, hot and warm and sticky and so incredibly right. With a high-pitched moan, Yuji finally lets go as well, gasping as his orgasm washes over him with the force of a wave breaking against a shore. He wraps his legs around Sukuna’s waist, locking them in place as his cunt convulses around Sukuna’s cock, coaxing every single drop of cum out of it. A few moments pass, twin heartbeats racing, the silence only cut by ragged panting.
Sukuna bumps his forehead against Yuji’s, the two of them basking in their shared afterglow, hot breaths becoming one. It takes more than a couple pats against his leg for him to let go of Sukuna’s waist. A tiny whine escapes Yuji as he slides his soft cock out of him, a trail of Sukuna’s spent following shortly after. Begrudgingly, Sukuna watches as more of his seed trickles out of his brother’s hole, the need to push it back inside overwritten by the need to keep his brother standing on shaky legs. He pulls him into a tight embrace, shielding Yuji’s eyes from the murder scene behind them.
He kisses him on the top of his head, nuzzles his face into his hair. Fear, hope, disdain and adoration go unsaid. Nothing more than a wordless whisper between them. Sukuna idly plays with the hem of Yuji’s kimono, let’s the expensive fabric slides through his fingers, feels the uneven stitches on the underside of the brocade. He pulls it tighter, readjusts as if it could hide the blooming purple marks on Yuji’s skin.
“I’ll never let anyone else have you.” Sukuna promises once more, as he had always done since they were just children eating the dirt off the street.
“I’ll never let anyone else take me.” Yuji completes their vow, as he always will until the day he dies.