Crane Wife AU

[harsher]

KAMIKAKUSHI ( ensemble ) A long time ago, beyond an old railroad under the river, there was a town filled with spirits and old gods. It has laws as old as tree roots, where myths are just as real as flesh and blood, looking at you across the table with tea-stained lips.

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[blessed_is_he]

He laughs softly, his eyes fixed on Stiva's movements as he obeys Justin's childishly self-indulgent whimsy. "You would get tired of my saying so long before my desires were likely to change, little bird," he replies, softly affectionate, holding out graceful hands expectantly for Stiva's, clearly intent on drawing him closer against him on the bed. Justin is in a female form today, one he'd practiced and refined over several centuries, maintaining a careful core of timeless beauty even as times and fashions changed with the passing decades. Despite Stiva being fully and formidably clothed and Justin's seemingly vulnerable nakedness, there is no doubting who holds the power in this room, on whose words the other's pleasure rested.

"Come touch me, Stiva," he invites outright, as if taking his words to heart. "See if you can find any fault in my work today."

[harsher]

"I suppose you're right," he responds with a little huff of breath. But when Justin opens his arms like that, Stiva can't help but be drawn in as if pulled by some invisible string.

He feels his throat go slightly dry at the sight before him. By now, he's seen the kyubi take on many forms. He's heard Justin's voice lilt in so many different octaves and his skin bloom in a variety of shades (each one more beautiful than the last, especially when colored pink and red with pleasure and need).

"Yes, master."

(He uses the term out of respect, out of fear of overstepping, and out of sheer habit. But he notices just the slightly dip in Justin's fine brow when he says it.)

His fingers, calloused and rough from handling bowstrings and paperwork alike, smooth over the other's form, tracing the jut of the shoulder, the hollow of the throat, the curve of a pale breast. He bites back a groan, leaning down to take a deep breath in, smelling tea and incense and the remnants of hot coals.

"As always," he murmurs, lips barely grazing a dusky nipple, his breath making it start to perk up and stiffen, "you're perfect."

[blessed_is_he]

He sighs with quiet, earnest satisfaction, his pale skin flushed, both nipples peaking almost visibly under Stiva's gaze. His hands drape over Stiva's shoulders limply, but there is a substantial weight to them, his long slender fingers curled to stroke gently against the bare nape of Stiva's neck, tracing the outlines of a familiar, hidden brand, out of sight beneath his layered collars.

"Such an unusually sweet tongue you have today, little bird," he murmurs. "May I have a kiss, please?" His voice is wheedling, coyly pleading, asking for what he knows he can very easily and rightfully demand. It was almost always his way and preference, particularly when alone with the tengu.

[harsher]

He doesn't hesitate, not like he would have in the beginning. He mouths up the kitsune's bare neck, breathes in the scent of tea and smoke and something older, like fresh earth after the rain. Their lips touch but it's chaste for now. That doesn't make it any less sweet. Stiva's wings flutter behind him, giving him away even though his expression remains calm and still, held that way by will.

"You don't usually like it when I'm sweet," he says. "You must be in a good mood, master." He thinks carefully about what to say next as his trained hand wanders, sliding along the other's thigh, pushing up the supple silk of his robes. "Is it because of our guest? You're fond of him aren't you, and his stories? The one eyed serpent. I hear he'd returned here after several moons away."

Stiva thinks about Peter - half-man, half-youkai - and his cursed face. He knew Justin enjoyed him because of his novelty and his wit and the challenge of his doomed fate. Justin enjoyed puzzles after all, and Stiva enjoyed providing them for him.

"Have you decided to play with him again? I can bring him to you."

[blessed_is_he]

He shakes his head, lets his legs fall even further open, rocking against the skillfully trained touch of the tengu's hand. Stiva had come to him already well-versed in the bedroom arts, but time and Justin's own training had left their mark even deeper, ingraining Justin's personal tastes and preferences into every gesture and motion.

"Not tonight, little bird," he shakes his head, and then his own hand reaches down, tugs the inadequate knot holding fine silk just barely together, then lets the panels fall open gracefully, revealing his bare body, slender and fine, skin flawlessly smooth and pale, his illusory form that of an untouched virgin from some noble family, hands and feet soft and unblemished with the slightest trace of real work. "You haven't finished examining my work," he pouts deliberately, coquettish and teasing, but his eyes are glittering with avarice and anticipation. "I expect you to partake of everything I give you."

[harsher]

His eyes widen with obvious delight at the body fully revealed beneath him, but he keeps his face unmoving and calm (it's harder than it appears). His nails - painted a dark, charcoal color this time - scrape lightly down the dip of the other's waist, pressing into the soft (so soft, like fresh tofu) skin and watches the way it pinks with the pressure. "What have I done to be given such a reward?" he murmurs, thumb tracing down between the other's thighs, touching that wet heat of a perfectly formed cunt. Stiva feels his mouth start to water and his cock twitch as his wings spread, covering the both of them in their shadows.

"And how dare I critique such a work of art?"

[blessed_is_he]

"You think this a reward, little bird?" He coos, sounding delighted and pleased, a ripple of laughter coiled within the teasing words. "I trust your eye and your touch more than my own. This form must be absolutely flawless, and I expect you to test everything." He reaches for Stiva's wrist with one slender hand and tugs, shamelessly grinding against the tengu's fingers, coating them in the damp evidence of his body's pleasure.

"And I do mean everything. Do you understand, little bird?"