Touma sat down on the edge of the bed, moving books and pens around the bedside table to make room for the breakfast tray. Behind him, Kujuurou stirred.
Kujuurou was instantly awake, and sat up to take the steaming cup. His dark blue hair looked adorably rumpled. The strong curve of his body was hunched and pensive. Touma felt a sudden attack of shyness; they had few quiet moments together like this.
It reminded him of those first days with Seiji.
"Thereís only toast and cereal in the house. Otou-san hasnít gone shopping in a while."
Kujuurou drank slowly. He was holding the cup formally, in a rather careful, old-fashioned way. The way Seiji would. It occurred to Touma that the old-fashioned way was the only way Kujuurou knew. What a culture shock that must have been. A jump almost five hundred years into the future. íRou-san probably grew up riding horses, not motorcycles.
"Iím only about twenty, you know."
Touma stared. He was pretty sure he hadnít projected those thoughts. Alert greenish eyes flickered up at him, then returned to gazing straight ahead.
Kujuurou finished his tea, and reached over to put the cup on the table. "Time moves differently in the Youjakai. We only trained a few years in our armor. Iím not sure how many."
Touma suddenly felt cold. Why, after all Kujuurou had been through, had this man chosen to be here, in his bed? It was such a long way to go... He could have gone anywhere, done anything, yet he was here.
Touma blinked. "I was going to say---"
The larger man leaned in, as close as he could get without touching. "We were like you. We were united, four young men against the world, convinced our cause was right. Arago didnít rule us with pain, only. He ruled us through our pride. And each other. The yoroi bond is hard to deny. When Shuten-douji..." Touma touched his scar. Kujuurou paused, taking a breath. "I was closest to him. We two were the younger ones. It hurt when he betrayed us to Kaosu-sama."
Touma swallowed. It was the most heíd ever heard Kujuurou say. "Why are you telling me this?"
"I think you know why." He wound an arm around Toumaís waist. "The yoroi bond is only a draw. What keeps people together is different. I learned that." The hard way. "I know why I am here, Hashiba Touma no Tenku. Do you?"
"I..." Overcome, Touma kissed him. Rough, cool, musky. Immediately he was backed into the headboard, a hand pressing his hips down. Kujuurou pulled at his bottom lip, tongue teasing the roof of his mouth, hands everywhere...
"Stop," Touma murmured.
"Take your shirt off first."
Touma obliged. He tried to breathe slower as Kujuurou ran his hands along his chest. He had to take a moment to gather his scattered wits. "I... I feel something for you. But Iím not sure what it is."
Lazily Kujuurou snaked a hand into his boxers. "Is there anything else?"
Touma shut his eyes. "Seiji."
"What about Korin."
The yoroi names again. "I havenít told him about us."
"This is not something I didnít know."
Touma bit back a moan as Kujuurou caressed his thighs. "I feel guilty."
"Damn it..." Touma gritted his teeth. "I canít exactly go along with this third degree if youíre rubbing my dick like that."
The activity down below stopped. "This better?"
"Nooooo, but itíll do." Touma leaned up and kissed him again. "Heís just been so uptight lately. I mean, he has a fit when Iím with the other guys, how much more you?"
"Mmm." Kujuurou captured his hand and sniffed his wrist.
Inside, Touma was writhing. Ask him!
Kujuurou bit his palm, nearly drawing blood. Touma cried out. The hand in his boxers was stroking his balls. "God, you can really fuck up a guyís mental processes."
"What was the last thing you were thinking about?" Kujuurou blanketed him with his body, licking the line of his jaw.
"Umm..." He had a sudden flash of the bizarre meeting at the restaurant. "...did Ryo mind that you werenít staying for breakfast?"
"You want to know how that went?"
Touma squirmed out of his boxers. "Sure."
/All right. Iíve always wanted to do this. Open your link to Tenku./
The moment he did, the room plunged into pitch darkness. Though Touma had learned how to integrate many of Yamiís tricks into his own armor, the sensation startled him. This wasnít just a matter of two armors forming an energy link. It was as though Yami had taken over, blotting out Tenku as though wiping the stars out of the night sky.
Then he felt Kujuurou against him. Normally this would have been comforting. Except he was using a bike lock to chain his arms to the headboard. Touma whimpered.
/Donít fight it too much. Itís like getting your vision at night./
Sure enough, a row of lights seemed to appear in the distance. He smelled old motor oil and cigarettes. In the distance, there came a low rumbling which he recognized as motorcycle engines.
Two headlights cut through the gloom, and the rest of the picture crystallized. Rows of cars, concrete. It was an underground parking garage.
Voices. "This is an expensive hotel."
"Iíve been saving for myself, and my dad just deposited in my bank account. Figured Iíd splurge on Touma. Heís been a little down lately."
"We can look at the bikes here."
Ryoís low, warm laugh. "You mean youíll let me touch it?"
Touma gasped as moistened fingers teased his nipples. He tried to buck, but he found Kujuurou was straddling his legs. A wet hard erection pressed on his thigh. Suddenly a hand... no, Ryoís hand on his leather-clad thigh. Touma blinked and hardened unbelievably as Kujuurou grasped Ryoís dark hair, even as the Trooper continued to stroke his leg.
Kujuurou kissed him... Ryo... he wasnít sure. Either way, a warm tongue flicked into his mouth, teeth gnawed and nipped his bottom lip.
/Donít get your lines crossed, Tou-chan./
/No... no, I want it./ Touma wasnít sure what he was seeing, since it was too dark to see Kujuurouís face above him yet just light enough to see Ryo mounting the sleek Shadow bike. /I want you to fuck me when you do him./
"The shocks are pretty good, but the engine needs a lot of care." Touma was back in the garage. Kujuurou was crouching next to his bike as Ryo tested the gears.
"Gotta keep it oiled up, huh?"
Kujuurou smirked. "As a matter of fact, I do." Touma and Ryo gasped as he began to rub slow circles on the back of his knee.
"You check your oil a lot, Kujuu-san?" Ryo was being awfully respectful, even for a sexual innuendo. Then he wiggled a little in the saddle, making the leather squeak.
Touma threw his head back as Kujuurou sucked at his throat. Ryo was so asking for trouble...
"Keep your hands on the bar," growled the former Warlord. He got on the bike behind Ryo, somehow not touching him. "Now... let me show you ... how to get the most out of your dipstick."
Touma watched, fascinated, as Kujuurou reached down and fiddled with the engine. For his own part, the Ryo was straining to look around and see what was happening. His breaths were starting to get shallow, a sign of arousal Touma recognized.
"...and thatís how you can hear if the levelís low. You donít even have to pull it out."
Kujuurou began to stroke Touma just as Ryo began to tease his own erection. The leather-clad doppelganger sat back up and leaned close to Ryoís ear.
"I told you to keep your hands on the bars." Touma didnít have to see the flick of tongue which sent Ryo shivering. Of course, Ryo being Ryo, it was taken as a challenge. There was a whir of a zipper being opened.
Touma groaned when Kujuurou bit Ryoís earlobe. The dark haired Trooper didnít cry out -- how could he, it was a parking lot with security patrols, and cameras - but Touma was screaming. Vaguely he realized it was because his hard-on had disappeared into Kujuurouís mouth.
"Stop...!" Touma gasped. Ryo had a good grip on his own penis, trying to press against the man behind him. He arched back silently as Kujuurou slipped a greased hand up his shirt.
Mercifully the wet pressure on Touma was withdrawn. He was able to focus on the scene before him. Ryo was trying to twist around, but Kujuurou turned the motion against him. The hand up Ryoís shirt grasped his waist and pulled him up on the saddle, and the other yanked his pants off. No underwear, of course; the way Ryo had been carrying on, heíd expected to use it on someone...
/You on top with Ryo?/ Kujuurou was over Touma, nuzzling his cheek.
/Most of the time. He likes it either way, but Iíve just got to fuck him good and hard when he waves his ass around like that./
That got a rise out of his lover. Touma felt sharp teeth digging into the tender skin on his shoulder, the hot, firm flesh rubbing against his own erection. Two burning slashes, and Kujuurou had scratched his sides, probably drawing blood. He couldnít even hear himself cry out, it was too intense.
"Put your hands on the seat," growled the dream-Kujuurou, in a tone which required instant obedience. Ryo obeyed. He had no choice, he had to support his weight somehow as Kujuurou pinned his legs with his own, and lifted his hips.
Suddenly there was blinding pain. "Oh FUCK!" Touma yelped. Kujuurou had lifted his hips as well, and plunged deep into him. "Oh god, thatís good..."
He could see Ryoís shoes scrabbling for purchase on the bike, his engorged member rubbing on the hot leather seat, Kujuurou freeing his own erection and easing into him slowly, too slowly... "Too slow," Touma found himself saying.
Both Kujuurous thrust violently, shoving their respective lovers forward. Touma had the luxury of screaming, but Ryo... was that blood running down his lips?
It wasnít his own. Kujuurou forced Ryoís mouth open, to suck on the hand heíd bitten, and keep him quiet. Touma yanked at the chains, taking in the way Ryo took to the wound, the blissful glaze in his half-closed eyes. The larger man pulled back and thrust again. Ryoís sweat-drenched hair swung with the motion.
"Oh god, Kujuurou..." Touma shook. His whole body was on fire. Kujuurou was hitting him just right, and he knew from long experience that heíd hit the spot in Ryo as well. He was so close...
There was a loud rumble. Someone, either Ryo or Kujuurou, managed to turn the ignition and rev the motor.
Touma nearly passed out. The chains jangled on the headboard as cum spurted on his chest. With the motorcycle vibrating beneath him, Ryo opened his mouth to scream, but Kujuurou used his hand to gag him. As Touma came off the orgasm, he saw that Kujuurouís other hand had slipped down to grasp Ryoís sac.
Naturally Ryo couldnít cum on his bike.
Kujuurou managed to withdraw and lift one of Ryoís legs over the saddle. Trembling, Ryo landed on the concrete on all fours. The engine died.
The older man growled a laugh. "Idiot boy. How did you ever manage to defeat us?" He knelt down, careful to shield Ryoís nakedness from the rest of the lot. "Cum for me, Rekka."
Ryoís groan was swallowed by a long kiss. Touma bit his lip, seeing him ejaculate into Kujuurouís wounded hand.
His own Kujuurou collapsed next to him. He tried to reach up and enter the combination of the bike lock. Touma leaned against his warm, heaving chest, watching the kiss go on.
"Sorry about the hand, dude." Of course Ryo would feel like apologizing for a perfectly good fuck.
Touma tilted up and looked at the hand in question. It was healed. He thought so, otherwise he would have noticed it the night before.
"Ryo healed you?"
Kujuurou released him with a click. "He didnít have to."
"Seiji taught us how to channel Korin. He finally got sick of having to do it all the time." Seiji. Touma buried himself in Kujuurouís embrace, heedless of the mess. Instead of Seiji, he focused on untangling Tenku from Yami.
I hope Seiji doesnít find traces of Yami, if he ever checks Tenku.
Kujuurou pulled him close, and they slept.
"Do you have to go soon?"
"I donít have to." But he would, Touma knew. It was better that way. They both had lives to live. "We should take care of those wounds."
Touma blinked. He realized there were deep gashes on his sides. "A half-hour with Tenku will take care of it. My dadís got a huge shower, íRou-san."
There was a soft kiss on his hair. "Good idea. But thatís enough, ne? Between you and Ryo, itís hard to stay awake on the road."
"I wonít make any promises."
With a chuckle, Kujuurou rolled out of bed and lifted Touma, sheet and all, into his arms.
"Ryoís right. Youíre the skinniest."
Seijiís worse, Touma thought, but he didnít say it. "You do another round with him?"
"Curious cat. Get off or Iíll drop you."
Touma clambered off, and tossed the sheet into the sink. Kujuurou started the shower while he hunted down some clean towels. He also got a bottle of antiseptic; he wasnít about to find out that the armors couldnít cure infections. It was a little difficult to find in the dark, but he knew his loverís preference.
The water was steaming, the way Touma liked it.
"Let me do that." Kujuurou took the antiseptic and soaked a handtowel with it.
It stung. Toumaís voice was already hoarse from screaming, so he gritted his teeth. The little sunshine filtering into the bathroom caught on the water droplets on Kujuurouís shoulders and chest. Though they were too worn out to do anything else, the well-defined body was an arousing sight.
"We did go up to the hotel room," Kujuurou said suddenly. "I told him I was going to meet you, and he said to go and not worry about it. Said heíd planned to do that himself, but he was too tired. There were a few more rounds, as you call them." He leaned forward and kissed him, rivulets flowing over both their faces. "Iíd like to see him try some of those tricks on you, Tou-chan."
Touma flushed at the thought. "Hmm. Maybe something can be... arranged."
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