Kamui's private chamber was far less sumptuous than Shion had imagined. There was a simple bed in the corner, a mattress enclosed in a dull layer of fabric with a coverlet of fur. Lanterns hung at intervals, providing a warm though indistinct light, most of which was centered above a low table containing tools for writing. Directly in front of where Shion stood, another, larger table was laid out for a meal. Lord Kamui reclined beside it, his loose hair still slightly damp from being washed, heedlessly falling wherever it would. A simple yukata was wrapped tightly around his body, covering him up to the neck. Shion gazed at him intently, remembering Kamui’s scars and tracing out where the fresh one would be, there, along his shoulder-

The daimyo's eyes met his. Lord Kamui smiled, regarding him appreciatively while Shion stood blushing, flustered at having been caught examining the man’s body so closely.

“Well done, Kagamine. You may leave us.”

The screen behind him closed with a small, soft thud which somehow seemed so loud it made his nerves jump. He'd come to find the boy's presence reassuring. Now that he was gone, Shion bowed his head, uncertain how to proceed.

“Come and sit with me, little bird. I thought you might be hungry, so I had the men bring up food for us.”

“My lord is very kind.” He approached Kamui slowly and moved to settle in beside him, but the daimyo took hold of his arm, pulling Shion into his lap instead.

“Stay close to me,” that soft, urgent voice whispered from behind him. “I want to feel your warmth and breathe in your scent.” The sound of it made his breath catch. He smoothed at the fabric of his disheveled kimono as Kamui placed one arm around his waist. “You look gorgeous tonight, Shion.”

“I’m glad it pleases you, my lord,” he murmured, his voice low and halting.

“Does it not please you as well?”

“It’s very strange,” he admitted. “This fabric is so soft and light, it feels as though I'm wearing nothing at all, and yet, it also fits so tightly-”

The daimyo pulled him closer. “I wish to make it all the more difficult for you to fly away.”

“I have no intention of doing so, my lord.”

Kamui chuckled softly. “Indeed. I saw the way you looked at me just now.” He reached down to retrieve something from underneath the table. It was a bottle of sake. Shion frowned. Kamui didn’t drink alcohol, and from what he’d heard, he didn’t allow his men to have it, either.

"It is all for you, little bird,” he explained, pouring a portion of liquid into an empty bowl. “An apology for my harsh words this morning.”

Shion lowered his head. “You were right to be angry with me. I should have had more faith in you.”

“I cannot fault you for being suspicious. Faith in men is often ill-repaid.” Kamui placed Shion’s hands around the little bowl, cupping his own hands against them. His fingers were so warm, their movements so precise, so self-assured.

“My lord is very graceful,” he murmured.

“I am glad you think it so.”

The taste of the sake as the bowl touched his lips was less bitter than he remembered. "The last time I drank this," he mused, "I was much younger. I was sick and thought I might be dying.”

"And yet, here you are, very much alive and in my arms." He felt Kamui's lips curl at the nape of his neck and knew his lord was smiling.

The bowl was set on the table. He watched in fascination as Kamui’s long, deft fingers drew a piece of nagiri up to his mouth. “If you would rather not have me do this, please tell me.” Warm breath trailed down the edge of Shion's ear. “Grown men generally object to being fed like children or dogs."

There was something strangely appealing about having those hands so close, even if they didn’t touch him. Shion took a bite and realized he was utterly famished.

“Even so," he responded, between mouthfuls, "dogs and children are both dearly loved, my lord."

“Yes. I suppose they are.” Kamui's large fingers made the small lengths of wood between them look hopelessly frail as he pressed them gently, over and over, against Shion's lips. It was a simple meal, but its taste was indescribable.

Every now and then, a soft exhalation echoed from behind him.

“Lord Kamui, are you not hungry as well?”

The daimyo’s arms pulled his body closer, and Shion stiffened against what he found there. “Judge my hunger for yourself,” Kamui whispered, biting softly at his ear.

Heat flooded into his cheeks. He hadn’t forgotten why he’d come there, exactly, but Kamui's brand of seduction was far more subtle than the casual roughness he was accustomed to.

More sake was being poured into the little bowl.

“Lean back,” Kamui directed, without loosening his hold on Shion’s waist. “Lay your head against my chest.”

His tone was gentle, yet there was also a certain sternness to it. Shion knew he hadn’t responded particularly well to the man’s first attempt at an overture. He took a deep breath.

I will pin your wings and bind your legs, if I must, but you will not fly from me again.

Lord Kamui’s arm tightened around him as if to reinforce these words. He fell back against the man's chest, feeling the insistent heartbeat pulse beneath him, and watched as the daimyo lifted the bowl of sake over his head. Surely he did not mean to drink it-

Kamui pressed Shion’s face towards him, and their lips touched. He opened his mouth reflexively, making a little startled gasp as the warm liquid flooded inside it. He stared up at the daimyo with wide eyes as he finally swallowed. Kamui’s masterful fingers caressed his throat, his lips rewarding Shion with the smile he’d longed to see for so long.

“You are exactly what I seek,” the man murmured softly.

“You mean that now, my lord, but what of tomorrow, when you have satisfied your hunger and sent me away?”

Kamui raised the bowl to his lips once more. “You underestimate just how starved I am for you.” The daimyo’s hand pressed firmly at the back of his head as Kamui kissed him once more. Sake and hot saliva mixed inside his mouth, drowning his senses, sweeping all sense of reticence away. Kamui lapped at his tongue as if tasting every inch of it.

He stared up, half-dazed.

“Shall I give you another drink?”

“If it is my lord’s wish.”

“I want to know your wishes, Shion. Your will.”

It struck him as a singularly odd thing for such a man to say. His mind raced, half-considering every possible response, but in the end, he could only bring himself to make the slightest nod.

As Kamui's mouth overtook him, he put his arms around the man’s neck, drawing him closer. The taste of the sake faded, yet they still remained entangled, their tongues sliding against each other, seeking each other out. Kamui's fingers drifted lightly down his chest, then began unknotting the tight cloth wrapped at Shion's waist, loosening the fabric and pulling it away from his body.

The daimyo's merciless kisses left him breathless and panting. His arms were still stretched around the man's neck, keeping him close at hand. Kamui made no attempt to disengage them as his fingers pushed Shion's garments apart with a strange sort of pressure-

No, he suddenly realized, daring an embarrassed glimpse downwards. These were not Kamui's hands at all but a pair of smooth wooden sticks. He was not being undressed so much as painstakingly unwrapped.

“Your face is hot,” Kamui murmured from beside his cheek. “And yet, you are not fully exposed-"

The pieces of wood in those graceful fingers slid downwards along either side of Shion's torso, drawing the fabric further apart, until at length they slipped along his hips and every scrap of clothing fell away from his body entirely. The smooth, slight pull of the sliding silk was maddening. Shion groaned.

“Hold on to me.” The daimyo lifted him with one arm as the other hastily swept across the table. Everything fell to the tatami with a muted clatter as Shion found himself laid out across its hard surface instead.

Kamui gazed down at him with that heart-wrenchingly beautiful smile, leaning out over his naked body, the wooden sticks still clasped between his fingers. He wondered if Kamui had used them to untie the obi as well but found the question far too embarrassing to ask.

“So gorgeous.” His eyes went wide as the set the daimyo held in his right hand brushed along the edges of his face and drifted languidly down his throat. His skin burned underneath their light touch.

Kamui softly traced out the lines of his collarbones before grasping the silk which still clung stubbornly to his shoulder, pulling it away. The wooden sticks moved crosswise, caressing the barely-visible edge of his chest muscle. They continued their leisurely trajectory downwards, sweeping over his ribs. The daimyo paused there for a moment. Shion felt the pressure his fingers exerted grow the slightest bit unsteady.

Something was off. He gazed up at the man’s face. His expression seemed almost sad.

“Have you always been so thin, my beloved?”

Shion’s hand reached up to touch his cheek, and the daimyo leaned into its warmth with surprising fervor. “Perhaps I have been starved for you as well,” Shion murmured, the hint of a smile playing across his lips.

Kamui scattered tiny, weightless kisses over his palm. They left a strange stinging sensation in their wake. He gasped, without understanding how, or why. The man’s eyes regarded him with unconcealed intensity, but he no longer felt the urge to look away. The wooden pieces slipped against his lips with almost imperceptible pressure, leaving them with a stronger impression of that odd tingling. Kamui kept sliding them across until the sensation was downright unbearable, then suddenly pressed his lips to Shion’s mouth. His kiss was small and light, but Shion’s entire body jerked beneath it.

Whatever Kamui was doing to him now was so far beyond his experience he found it downright bewildering.

“You look startled,” the daimyo whispered softly. “Has no one ever teased you before?” The thin sticks of wood outlined the ridges of his ear, then slid along his earlobe with the slightest hint of pressure. “What a shame.”

Kamui’s gaze transfixed him. He was pinned into place, all right, in a most unexpected way.

Something shifted in the daimyo’s expression. The wooden pieces moved beneath his chin, lifting it gently, urging back his head. Shion obeyed the silent instruction, moaning unashamedly as Kamui’s lips fell over his throat. He buried his fingers in the man’s hair, feeling its musky scent overwhelm him. Lord Kamui’s breathing grew heavier underneath his touch. Shion felt sharp-edged teeth biting at his neck with an irresistible pressure that made him tremble and cry out. It was as though he was truly being devoured.

“You are so loud,” Kamui whispered hoarsely. “The boy is sure to hear you.”

“Then let him hear, my lord.” The wooden sticks drifted gently down his throat, releasing their tenuous hold. Shion stared up at the daimyo with a determined expression. “I want to sing for you.”

The man took a deep, steadying breath. He looked as though he was barely holding himself back from losing every last ounce of control.

The little sticks in his hands caressed Shion’s chest on either side. Kamui’s movements were indeed very, very graceful. Watching them filled his body with a sweet, anticipatory thrill. A slight pressure fell against his swollen nipples, and Shion arched his back to meet it. Little gasps escaped him. Kamui pinched at them and twisted, watching him with a lustful expression which only heightened his excitement. He vaguely realized he’d been put on display once again, but the heat of his embarrassment had been swallowed up by a brighter, hotter flame.

The daimyo increased the pressure by small degrees, until Shion was writhing in an agony indistinguishable from pleasure. He wanted Kamui to touch him. He wanted to feel the man’s warmth. His sweat. His breath. He wanted-

As if sensing Shion’s thoughts, Kamui lowered his body against him. The man’s mouth closed over one of his painfully erect nipples, unleashing a new wave of soul-shaking moaning. Kamui’s weight fell against him heavily, holding him in place as his tongue flicked at one side of his chest, the wooden pieces at the other. He clutched at the man’s back, feeling the daimyo’s clothing shift beneath his fingers.

No. Not this. He needed to touch Kamui’s skin-

Shion moved his hand to the daimyo’s neckline, pulling at the edge of the fabric, but it was too tight, and the man was too close. Kamui’s entire body seemed to tense at the pressure.

“Please,” Shion begged, in an incoherent voice. “I know there are scars. I’ve already seen them. One day, on the practice grounds-“ He lowered his hand, making several lines across Kamui’s chest. They were marked into his memory like guideposts on a map. “Here, and here, and here-“

The daimyo lifted his head.

“Please,” he repeated, breathlessly. “Kamui-“

The man held onto his trembling hands as he helped Shion undress him. Kamui’s fingers burned against his, and he suddenly realized they were shaking as well. An unexpected color shaded the daimyo’s features. All that self-assurance had seemed to fade away-

Shion laid his hand over the man’s frantically beating heart. “Thank you,” he whispered, as Kamui’s clothing fell to the floor. He brushed his fingertips over the daimyo’s scarred shoulder. It was the symbol of the bond between them, a bond which would never be broken as long as they both still lived.

“Do you find me pleasing to look at?,” Kamui asked softly.

Shion nodded, running his hands along the man’s chest.

“I thought- you might be afraid-“

He put his arms around the daimyo’s back, drawing Kamui down against him as he tilted his hips up beguilingly. “Tell me, is this fear, my lord?” The man’s breath caught in his throat. Shion felt the daimyo's body twitch above him. He slid his damp stomach gently against Kamui's swollen erection, feeling its heat burning into his skin.

The man pulled away from him. Shion could see how overcome he was, all taut nerves, straining muscle, and ragged breathing. He smiled at this. Lord Kamui was indeed only a man. Here, within this chamber, there was no difference between them-

Wordlessly, Kamui picked up his wooden pieces, and Shion quivered at the sight. They reached towards his lips, caressing them slowly, softly, urging them to part for a kiss. When he opened his mouth, Shion found them thrust inside his mouth instead, grasping roughly at his tongue and forcing it out between his lips. Shion’s eyes went wide. He made a sound like a pained little whimper as Kamui hovered above him. For a moment neither of them moved. Saliva pooled at the corner of Shion’s mouth until it began dripping out.

Suddenly another sensation assailed him. The other set- were-

A muffled cry escaped him, then another, and another. Shion’s body convulsed.

Kamui licked at the length of his tongue, stroking it with the same rhythm as the wooden pieces moving between them, eliciting something between ecstasy and protest. It was almost too much sensation to bear, almost-

“Both ends of you are dripping, little bird,” Kamui murmured at his ear. His voice was so low, so coarse with desire. Its sound and sense elicited more cries.

The daimyo’s mouth enveloped Shion’s tongue as both sets of sticks released him. Freed to move at last, it thrust inside Kamui’s mouth with a kind of frenzied pressure. His skin was hot and burning all over. He shook like a red-tinged leaf in an autumn wind.

His thighs had drifted open. Kamui’s sticks teased gently at his scrotum before drifting along beneath it. Shion inhaled sharply. The wooden pieces penetrated his body without the slightest amount of resistance.

Suddenly he was overcome with a deep sense of shame. What was he doing here, like this, spread out across the daimyo's table like some kind of perverse banquet while bits of wood pressed inside his body, pushing into him, holding him open? Why was Kamui subjecting him to this torment? And why- did he find that he enjoyed it?

Kamui's sticks pressed upwards, towards his stomach, and he moaned. The daimyo's features were set in concentration. He made a minor adjustment and pressed upwards again. Shion's body quivered wildly around them, and Kamui smiled as though he’d discovered some indelible and fascinating secret.

Shion turned his face away.

“Little bird-” Kamui’s shaking hand caressed his cheek. “Please look at me.”

Be absolutely compliant. Do whatever he asks of you.

He gazed up into the man’s eyes, remembering the advice Kagamine had given him.

The little sticks caressed him from inside, pressing and sliding against his most intimate place. His moaning stretched out in long, tortured intervals while Kamui gazed down at him softly. Shion felt as though he was losing his very soul.

He bent towards the pressure, giving in to the sensation, his trembling body completely lost to Kamui’s control. The man’s hand rested lightly on his face, filling the emptiness between them with a sweet, insistent warmth.

Kamui smiled down at him, wiping the corner of Shion’s dripping mouth with one languid finger. "You're so ripe you're going to burst."

"It's good- to be ripe at harvest-time, my lord,” he answered, between panting breaths, “after all these long seasons of- drought-”

The man's finger lingered at his mouth. "Is it indeed harvest-time? I had thought to hold it off a little longer-"

Kamui’s wooden pieces twisted inside Shion’s body, swirling downwards in a slow spiral, stretching him out in all directions.

"My lord," he gasped out unsteadily, "please-"

"Tell me what it is you beg for."

Shion’s face, already red, flushed to crimson. He didn't answer.

The wooden pieces pulled even further apart. His body had tensed in all the wrong places, making him wince in pain.

“Little bird?” Kamui's voice was filled with concern. He started to withdraw, but Shion clutched at his arm, holding it in place.

“I beg to feel you moving inside me,” he murmured. “I beg for your breath and your pulse, and most of all, I beg for your smile. I beg that I might be- the reason- behind it-“ He shuddered. “I apologize, my lord. I’m sure you were expecting something more enticing.” He tried to turn away, but Kamui's hand caught at his face and held it.

“Men have wanted many things from me, all of which were utterly selfish. For someone to say he wants to see me smile and know that he has pleased me-” Kamui’s fingers caressed his burning cheek. “Nothing could be more enticing than that.”

Shion’s breath caught in his throat. The daimyo’s hand swept down along his chest and stomach. He’d grown so exquisitely sensitive he gasped and trembled beneath the slightest touch.

“You are exactly what I seek,” Kamui whispered again, like a mantra.

He closed his eyes and focused on relaxing the tension in his body. Feverish hands pulled his hips to the edge of the table, then drifted along his thighs, lifting his knees. Soft kisses were being scattered over his trembling legs. His eyelids fluttered open.

Kamui was kneeling against him. The man drew his knees up over his shoulders, and Shion clung to them with all his remaining strength. He felt the tip of Kamui's wet erection make contact with his body and moaned with anticipation. His legs drew tight around the man's back, urging him closer.

Kamui moved against him as though he'd not be satisfied until Shion was absolutely soaked. This man was so kind it made his heart ache. His lord had always been- so kind-

Shion reached for the edge of the table, stretching his body out before him. There was nothing left to hide. Nothing he desired to keep from Kamui any longer. His foot traced out the scar on the man’s shoulder, and Kamui turned to it, kissing it gently, as his hard flesh pressed inside Shion’s body.

Shion threw his head back. His toes dug desperately into the muscle underneath them.

Kamui pushed himself in deeply, with a sharp breath. Shion found his body accepting it with surprising ease. He gazed up at the man as he pulled back unhurriedly, running smoothly along inside him with a sensation like sliding silk. Again, Kamui pushed into him, more forcefully this time. Shion moaned with pleasure, lifting himself up to meet the sweet pressure. It withdrew gently, leaving him aching.

“My lord,” he whispered brokenly, “please-”

The humid atmosphere was pierced by a cry. His wide-open eyes stared up, unable to see anything at all. Burning hands clutched hard at his thighs, holding his quivering body in place. Once more, the man’s withdrawal was agonizingly slow. Shion’s hips jerked and twisted wildly around him, and Kamui smiled.

“Your body is so hot and wet and grateful.”

Another thrust. Another loud cry. Then that familiar lingering dissipation-

Shion stared up at him. He’d never felt this overwhelmed before, led so exquisitely far beyond his limits, seared by a such a deep, overpowering desire.

The man reached towards his face. Light fingertips brushed at the damp corners of his eyes. Nothing his body was doing made sense to him anymore, but Kamui seemed to understand it intimately. He lowered himself between Shion’s legs, one haphazardly outstretched and the other still clinging to his back, holding on to Shion’s shoulders as he gently kissed his mouth.

“K-kamui-”

The man smiled down at him fondly as Shion wrapped his arms around him. Kamui’s musky scent enveloped him. His soft hair drifted over Shion’s skin. His body was so warm, his heartbeat so frantic. He pushed himself forward, and Shion maneuvered to meet him. He slid against the man’s body, pressing into him as tightly as he could manage, gratified by the sound of Kamui’s ragged breathing as he arched his back, drawing that pulsing flesh more deeply inside himself. Kamui wasn’t holding back any longer. He thrust into Shion with quick, sharp movements, while his lover did his best to pull away. Kamui held onto his shoulders so tightly he could feel the bruises forming.

One of those hands suddenly released its grip and trailed teasingly along Shion’s stomach before settling on the sensitive flesh throbbing between them.

“I refuse to be the only one coming undone,” Kamui murmured, his low voice coarse with desire.

“I assure you, you are not.”

“Ah?” Kamui bit lightly at his ear. “Show me then.”

His hand slid damply along the length of Shion’s erection, and he groaned. He could feel Kamui twitching inside him. It made him even harder.

“I will, gladly, but- I want to feel you moving within me still-”

He smiled softly, kissing Shion’s lips once more. His mouth lingered there against them as he stroked firmly at Shion’s flesh, as if to drink in his little gasping breaths. His hand smoothed over the tip, pulling downwards, and Shion moaned. Kamui’s tongue pushed into his open mouth, muffling an agonized cry as the man plunged deep inside his body. Moving towards one sensation meant moving away from the other, so Shion remained as still as he possibly could, lapping feverishly at Kamui’s insistent tongue. Quivers of ecstasy shot through his entire body. He was a shaking, shivering mess. The pressure of Kamui’s hand was deliciously heavy against him. The man’s hips pummeled into him mercilessly, perfectly matching its rhythm. Kamui’s forehead fell against his damply. He was panting.

Shion brushed his hand against the daimyo’s injured shoulder. His arm was shaking. Why was he supporting himself with it, instead of using it to-?

“Don’t worry,” Kamui breathed. “It’s all right.”

Shion pulled him close against his body, dislodging the grasping fingers which were so hesitant to release him. “That may be true now, but it won’t be tomorrow.”

The man sighed discontentedly.

“Please. Let me take care of you.” He rubbed himself against the man’s stomach seductively, leaking out all over his skin.

“Shion- I don’t deserve- your kindness-”

He clutched at Kamui's back, twisting his hips and tightening his muscles around the man’s throbbing flesh, making him groan with pleasure. "Is this not a kindness as well, my lord?”

“Shion-”

The man was too far gone to argue. He tangled his fingers in Shion’s hair, pulling at it with a tight fist as their bodies collided together, every movement tearing at him with an unendurable intensity. Kamui kept murmuring his name in a shivering whisper as one cry dissolved into another, and another. He adored that voice. It told him so many things, without saying anything at all.

Something changed in its tone. It became almost choked. He pressed Kamui as close as he possibly could, every part of him trembling and straining. A spasm shot through his body, then another, more forceful than the first. Shion truly belonged to his lord. He slid against the man’s body a final time, feeling the warm proof of it dripping down along his skin, and offered up everything he had left to give.

“Little bird.”

Shion opened his eyes slowly. His pulse was pounding in his ears. His body shook with reverberations of ecstasy, scattered into pieces he couldn’t pull together and didn’t wish to. The place where he lay was soaked. He let it saturate his skin.

Kamui was smiling down at him. That smile-

His eyelids drifted shut again.

Kamui’s fingers gently stroked at his hair as he laid his head over Shion’s chest.

“Are you satisfied, my lord?”

The man nodded softly against his skin.

It all seemed very unreal, as though at any moment he might awaken and find it had all been a dream. Shion doubted his imagination could conjure up anything remotely like this, yet still-

Even if it was, he’d be content to lie there forever and just keep dreaming.