Homecoming
Aug. 19th, 2014 12:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eijentuTitle: Homecoming
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: SHG or STC universe, Kurogane is dating both Fluorites. Either both seriously or just fuck-buddies with Fai and marriage-serious with Yuui.
Summary: Kurogane's life contains two different worlds that must stay in very separate universes. Holitsuba!AU. Twincesty and NSFW.
Author's note: KuroFaiYuui giftfic for Kitten Kin. Still in progress; this is part one, the rest will be up on the weekend. I'm sorry it's not finished today, but I hope you enjoy it so far! <3
It starts on a Sunday morning.
Sunday morning. The best morning of the week, not that Kurogane’s alone in that opinion. Well, it goes without saying: Sunday morning, the one morning teachers and students (and witches) alike sleep long past the sun’s first glow on the horizon, the class bell silent, the school corridors empty. No bleary-eyed kids to prod into warm-up laps of the basketball court, no gym mats or volleyball nets or archery targets to haul out; not even the familiar pace of his own morning run to start the day. For it is their morning, their day, and Kurogane is happy to keep it that way. To make tea in the kitchen while Yuui cooks breakfast, Fai inevitably still unconscious in a nest of pillows in the next room; he’ll wake when his twin drops a kiss to his head, smooths back his hair and says Fai had better get up or he and Kurogane are going to eat it all.
(‘Yuui, you wouldn’t! Just five minutes more. Then I’ll get up, I promise.’
‘Five minutes is all it takes me to eat a stack of pancakes, Fai.’
‘Mean! Kuro-snarl has corrupted my baby brother!’
‘Tche, if anyone corrupted him, it was you, idiot.’
‘See what I mean? Mean! I’m a lamb amongst the wolves!’)
Fai always looks so betrayed. Every week. Every Sunday morning. Slinks out of the bedroom with his pillow under his arm, pouts at his twin until Yuui relents and pushes a forkful of whatever into his twin’s waiting mouth.
Not that Fai restricts himself to behaving like an idiot on Sunday mornings, of course.
But it’s their morning, and once the breakfast things have been cleared away, it’s their day to enjoy as they please. They don’t bother to roll up the futon, not on Sundays: not when Yuui’s concept of reading the paper in bed involves less leafing through the Arts & Culture section and more spreading Kurogane’s knees wide, flicking out with his tongue before he swallows Kurogane down whole.
Not that Yuui really needs to look at the paper himself; Fai lounges beside them on the mattress, glasses perched on his nose and legs crossed at the ankle, reading aloud from the book reviews as Yuui works his clever mouth. And Kurogane would growl at him for being an idiot, but he’s… distracted just then. The sound turns into something else. Yuui’s lips drag around him, an obscenely taut ring, and there’s so much heat, there’s the wet slide of his tongue; it sends shocky jolts of pleasure scudding up Kurogane’s spine and he could just…
‘“A masterful portrait of a complex character… well-researched and captivating… tragic and startlingly erotic. ” Hmm. Isn’t Yuuko-sensei related to him some way through a second aunt’s third marriage or something? Can you even have second aunts? Oooh, keep it up, Yuui, he’s starting to do that nose twitch thing…’
Which is usually the point that Yuui reaches up and tugs the paper out of Fai’s hands. He twines his fingers with his twin’s, and the sight of that – long pale fingers laced together, the warmth of Fai eeling close against his side – the sight of that is almost enough to push him over the edge. Yuui’s mouth is relentless, wet and hot and mine, and it’s not long before Kurogane’s coming, head thrown back, eyes squeezing shut; unable to help the noises escaping his throat.
‘Kuro-yelp makes the sexiest noises when Yuui sucks him off,’ Fai says, sly, and even Yuui grins at that, wiping his mouth clean against the inside of his forearm. Kurogane scowls, twin idiot conspirators, but then Yuui crawls up the futon to spoon his laughing twin. Kurogane lets his arm close around the pair of them and drifts away. Well, they are his idiots, for all that.
Sometimes Kurogane wonders how long this can last – how long before a man like Yuui gets tired of being assumed the third wheel, how long before a man like Fai gets tired of… well, anything. How long a man like himself has the patience to live in secrecy, for his privacy is something sacred, but there is a difference between the two, and this, well. This is more than private. He’s not getting any younger. His parents remind him of this in phone calls on Sunday afternoon – a regular thing, the twins don’t stir when he heads next door just before three o’clock – and for now there’s laughter edging the voices on the other end of the line, but he knows this will change. As the years go by, the teasing will fall away, replaced by something careful and concerned. His parents have a tendency to worry, after all.
(‘We just want you to be happy, Kurogane.’
‘I’m fine, Mum.)
But it starts on a Sunday morning. In truth, Kurogane isn’t entirely sure what wakes him. Perhaps he needs to piss or perhaps it’s the sun through the blinds or perhaps a kick from one of his restless bedmates. Perhaps, and later Kurogane will decide this the most likely, it is his central nervous system screaming him awake, because something, something, something is happening. Something new and unknown; unplanned-for entirely.
He wakes to voices – or a voice, rather, Fai’s voice, muffled slightly in the hall outside the twins’ bedroom. It takes him a moment to remember what day it is, and when he does, he sits up sharply, ignoring the twinge in his lower back: a leftover from Fai’s ridiculous acrobatics the night before. He’s alone in the bed, but Yuui’s absence is probably to be expected with Fai up and about. And sure enough, as he leans forward, he catches sight of Yuui in the hallway as well. He’s wearing a T-shirt, nothing else; it’s not quite long enough to be decent. Kurogane doesn’t mind. But Yuui’s turned away slightly, his arms tight across his chest; there’s a stiffness to his posture that makes Kurogane wary, and he’s just wondering what Fai’s done to piss his twin off – to be awake - before a midday on Sunday when he realises that Fai isn’t speaking to Yuui at all. For Fai is speaking not his native tongue, the one the twins use between themselves, but Japanese, quite clearly, and his best manners besides. Anyone listening to him might even think the man was sane.
‘Yes… yes… Usually we stay here at the school… Well, the chairwoman takes very good care of us all on holidays…’
Kurogane snorts at that, and swings his legs out of the futon. He can’t account for the unease prickling down his back, but Yuui’s posture has relaxed now, arms unfolded to fiddle with his hair. He’s still watching Fai, busy with whoever it is on the phone. And Kurogane’s curious, he’ll admit that to himself, but first he needs a pair of pants and maybe to take that piss…
But, ‘No, not at all! It’s a pleasure, truly… We’ve heard so much about you too…’ Fai is saying now. And there he laughs, mischief and glee. Kurogane huffs, half-listening as he sorts through the debris of the night before; he knows there are pants somewhere. ‘Yuui’s been pestering Kuro-chan for your recipe for months…’
And at that, Kurogane stops, quite still. The unease is gone, washed away by pure dread, and Kurogane can’t remember what the appropriate response ought to be in this situation. He has a feeling it isn’t charging into the hall and snatching the phone out of his idiot’s hand. Because there’s only one recipe Yuui has requested in the history of their acquaintance. But Yuui catches sight of him then; his eyes widen briefly and he smiles, quick and warm. There’s something strange mixed up in his face, though: not quite dismay, but something close to it. Rueful odd angles in the corners of his mouth. Kurogane might scowl at that if his own weren’t still hanging open.
Yuui slips into the bedroom, bare feet silent across the mats. He comes to stand in front of Kurogane; he looks up and meets his gaze with thoughtful blue eyes. There’s a crease in his brow. That’s never a good sign.
Yuui says, ‘I didn’t know you gave your parents our number. Why didn’t you say?’
And Kurogane glares at that. ‘I didn’t give it to them,’ he says, short, because why would he do that? (Fai is a nightmare alone, never mind in the same conversation as his dad.) There is no way for these parts of his life to intersect, Kurogane knows this, he’s accepted it; and even if some small corner of him wishes he didn’t have to hide this from his parents – not talk about it with them, fucking hell, but stop lying, at least – even if he wished for that, Kurogane knows it’s not possible. These two worlds must exist in separate universes to survive.
Yuui’s eyebrows rise slightly at that. ‘Oh,’ he says, and then he glances back towards the door. His throat bobs as he swallows. ‘Right. Well, I think it’s safe to say they’ve got it, anyway.’
Out in the hall, Fai is still chattering on.
(‘You rang that witch for their number?’
‘Kurogane. I rang the switchboard, actually, but somehow it went through to the chairwoman’s private line instead.’
‘Tche!’
‘I tried calling you first, but you didn’t pick up. Was everything alright?’
‘Yeah. Uh. I was just. In the shower.’)
In truth, Kurogane doesn’t know how this became his life. He never saw this for himself – well, who the fuck expects twins? - and yet… he’s glad of it, this thing they have, whatever it is. In plain terms, black and white, what they are doing is wrong: Fai and Yuui are brothers, twins, and they shouldn’t look at each other the way that they do, shouldn’t find each other’s mouths in the bed they share at night. And it’s not just the idiots, their transgressions set apart: no, Kurogane knows he has no business being with both men like this; certainly not at the same time. He’s not subject to the same laws as the twins, maybe, but in the end it’s not about that. Kurogane’s not stupid; he knows this, he knows.
But somehow, this works for them. Whatever this is. Because Kurogane could never choose between them: Fai, clever and infuriating, dark lashes and impish grin. Vulnerable between the cracks in ways he thinks nobody sees. Yuui’s soft voice and dry wit and warm mouth, the smile that makes Kurogane’s stomach fall away. Tiny creases in the corners of the man’s eyes when he laughs. Kurogane could never choose. They are different, but they are important, separate but equal, and it’s not even just about Kurogane. Because this, what they have, means Fai and Yuui don’t have to choose. He’s pretty sure that hasn’t always been the case: Fai and Yuui don’t talk about past lovers – smiling away details with a hundred vague friends - and not for his sake. Kurogane’s never been the jealous type. But some wounds never quite mend, it seems, coded in the curl of Fai’s body around his twin as they watch TV, in the press of Yuui’s lips against the crown of Fai’s head. Love hurts, especially when it’s the wrong kind.
But this works for them, Fai and Kurogane and Yuui all together, the shape the three of them make in their bed. On weekdays Kurogane stops working at six o’clock, sets aside assignments and lesson plans and parent-teacher reports. He’s next door pouring Yuui a drink by quarter past, other arm fending off Fai from drinking straight from the bottle.
(‘You’ve had my testicles in your mouth, Kuro-germs. Are you really that worried about a tiny drop of my saliva?’
‘Just use a glass!’)
And by ten o’clock he’s dozing, Fai’s head against his shoulder; the man thumbing through his science journal, circling things that catch his interest with a marker as he goes. The quietest moment of Fai’s entire day – Kurogane’s the only one who needs to be up obscenely early to run training before school – and Yuui joins them eventually, finished his pottering for the night. He slides into the empty space and sticks his cold feet into their warmth and somehow it’s to this that Kurogane falls asleep. Night after night. Blond hair and faded pyjama bottoms and a dog-eared manga on the bedside table. Waking to morning breath kisses and sleep-slurred goodbyes. The breakfast that Yuui left in a container in the fridge the night before. Morning after morning. Day after day. Weeks turning to months, and months turning to. Well. This.
It works for them. Somehow. And that, Kurogane thinks, is what really matters in the end.
None of that makes this something he can explain to his parents
- TBC
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: SHG or STC universe, Kurogane is dating both Fluorites. Either both seriously or just fuck-buddies with Fai and marriage-serious with Yuui.
Summary: Kurogane's life contains two different worlds that must stay in very separate universes. Holitsuba!AU. Twincesty and NSFW.
Author's note: KuroFaiYuui giftfic for Kitten Kin. Still in progress; this is part one, the rest will be up on the weekend. I'm sorry it's not finished today, but I hope you enjoy it so far! <3
It starts on a Sunday morning.
Sunday morning. The best morning of the week, not that Kurogane’s alone in that opinion. Well, it goes without saying: Sunday morning, the one morning teachers and students (and witches) alike sleep long past the sun’s first glow on the horizon, the class bell silent, the school corridors empty. No bleary-eyed kids to prod into warm-up laps of the basketball court, no gym mats or volleyball nets or archery targets to haul out; not even the familiar pace of his own morning run to start the day. For it is their morning, their day, and Kurogane is happy to keep it that way. To make tea in the kitchen while Yuui cooks breakfast, Fai inevitably still unconscious in a nest of pillows in the next room; he’ll wake when his twin drops a kiss to his head, smooths back his hair and says Fai had better get up or he and Kurogane are going to eat it all.
(‘Yuui, you wouldn’t! Just five minutes more. Then I’ll get up, I promise.’
‘Five minutes is all it takes me to eat a stack of pancakes, Fai.’
‘Mean! Kuro-snarl has corrupted my baby brother!’
‘Tche, if anyone corrupted him, it was you, idiot.’
‘See what I mean? Mean! I’m a lamb amongst the wolves!’)
Fai always looks so betrayed. Every week. Every Sunday morning. Slinks out of the bedroom with his pillow under his arm, pouts at his twin until Yuui relents and pushes a forkful of whatever into his twin’s waiting mouth.
Not that Fai restricts himself to behaving like an idiot on Sunday mornings, of course.
But it’s their morning, and once the breakfast things have been cleared away, it’s their day to enjoy as they please. They don’t bother to roll up the futon, not on Sundays: not when Yuui’s concept of reading the paper in bed involves less leafing through the Arts & Culture section and more spreading Kurogane’s knees wide, flicking out with his tongue before he swallows Kurogane down whole.
Not that Yuui really needs to look at the paper himself; Fai lounges beside them on the mattress, glasses perched on his nose and legs crossed at the ankle, reading aloud from the book reviews as Yuui works his clever mouth. And Kurogane would growl at him for being an idiot, but he’s… distracted just then. The sound turns into something else. Yuui’s lips drag around him, an obscenely taut ring, and there’s so much heat, there’s the wet slide of his tongue; it sends shocky jolts of pleasure scudding up Kurogane’s spine and he could just…
‘“A masterful portrait of a complex character… well-researched and captivating… tragic and startlingly erotic. ” Hmm. Isn’t Yuuko-sensei related to him some way through a second aunt’s third marriage or something? Can you even have second aunts? Oooh, keep it up, Yuui, he’s starting to do that nose twitch thing…’
Which is usually the point that Yuui reaches up and tugs the paper out of Fai’s hands. He twines his fingers with his twin’s, and the sight of that – long pale fingers laced together, the warmth of Fai eeling close against his side – the sight of that is almost enough to push him over the edge. Yuui’s mouth is relentless, wet and hot and mine, and it’s not long before Kurogane’s coming, head thrown back, eyes squeezing shut; unable to help the noises escaping his throat.
‘Kuro-yelp makes the sexiest noises when Yuui sucks him off,’ Fai says, sly, and even Yuui grins at that, wiping his mouth clean against the inside of his forearm. Kurogane scowls, twin idiot conspirators, but then Yuui crawls up the futon to spoon his laughing twin. Kurogane lets his arm close around the pair of them and drifts away. Well, they are his idiots, for all that.
Sometimes Kurogane wonders how long this can last – how long before a man like Yuui gets tired of being assumed the third wheel, how long before a man like Fai gets tired of… well, anything. How long a man like himself has the patience to live in secrecy, for his privacy is something sacred, but there is a difference between the two, and this, well. This is more than private. He’s not getting any younger. His parents remind him of this in phone calls on Sunday afternoon – a regular thing, the twins don’t stir when he heads next door just before three o’clock – and for now there’s laughter edging the voices on the other end of the line, but he knows this will change. As the years go by, the teasing will fall away, replaced by something careful and concerned. His parents have a tendency to worry, after all.
(‘We just want you to be happy, Kurogane.’
‘I’m fine, Mum.)
But it starts on a Sunday morning. In truth, Kurogane isn’t entirely sure what wakes him. Perhaps he needs to piss or perhaps it’s the sun through the blinds or perhaps a kick from one of his restless bedmates. Perhaps, and later Kurogane will decide this the most likely, it is his central nervous system screaming him awake, because something, something, something is happening. Something new and unknown; unplanned-for entirely.
He wakes to voices – or a voice, rather, Fai’s voice, muffled slightly in the hall outside the twins’ bedroom. It takes him a moment to remember what day it is, and when he does, he sits up sharply, ignoring the twinge in his lower back: a leftover from Fai’s ridiculous acrobatics the night before. He’s alone in the bed, but Yuui’s absence is probably to be expected with Fai up and about. And sure enough, as he leans forward, he catches sight of Yuui in the hallway as well. He’s wearing a T-shirt, nothing else; it’s not quite long enough to be decent. Kurogane doesn’t mind. But Yuui’s turned away slightly, his arms tight across his chest; there’s a stiffness to his posture that makes Kurogane wary, and he’s just wondering what Fai’s done to piss his twin off – to be awake - before a midday on Sunday when he realises that Fai isn’t speaking to Yuui at all. For Fai is speaking not his native tongue, the one the twins use between themselves, but Japanese, quite clearly, and his best manners besides. Anyone listening to him might even think the man was sane.
‘Yes… yes… Usually we stay here at the school… Well, the chairwoman takes very good care of us all on holidays…’
Kurogane snorts at that, and swings his legs out of the futon. He can’t account for the unease prickling down his back, but Yuui’s posture has relaxed now, arms unfolded to fiddle with his hair. He’s still watching Fai, busy with whoever it is on the phone. And Kurogane’s curious, he’ll admit that to himself, but first he needs a pair of pants and maybe to take that piss…
But, ‘No, not at all! It’s a pleasure, truly… We’ve heard so much about you too…’ Fai is saying now. And there he laughs, mischief and glee. Kurogane huffs, half-listening as he sorts through the debris of the night before; he knows there are pants somewhere. ‘Yuui’s been pestering Kuro-chan for your recipe for months…’
And at that, Kurogane stops, quite still. The unease is gone, washed away by pure dread, and Kurogane can’t remember what the appropriate response ought to be in this situation. He has a feeling it isn’t charging into the hall and snatching the phone out of his idiot’s hand. Because there’s only one recipe Yuui has requested in the history of their acquaintance. But Yuui catches sight of him then; his eyes widen briefly and he smiles, quick and warm. There’s something strange mixed up in his face, though: not quite dismay, but something close to it. Rueful odd angles in the corners of his mouth. Kurogane might scowl at that if his own weren’t still hanging open.
Yuui slips into the bedroom, bare feet silent across the mats. He comes to stand in front of Kurogane; he looks up and meets his gaze with thoughtful blue eyes. There’s a crease in his brow. That’s never a good sign.
Yuui says, ‘I didn’t know you gave your parents our number. Why didn’t you say?’
And Kurogane glares at that. ‘I didn’t give it to them,’ he says, short, because why would he do that? (Fai is a nightmare alone, never mind in the same conversation as his dad.) There is no way for these parts of his life to intersect, Kurogane knows this, he’s accepted it; and even if some small corner of him wishes he didn’t have to hide this from his parents – not talk about it with them, fucking hell, but stop lying, at least – even if he wished for that, Kurogane knows it’s not possible. These two worlds must exist in separate universes to survive.
Yuui’s eyebrows rise slightly at that. ‘Oh,’ he says, and then he glances back towards the door. His throat bobs as he swallows. ‘Right. Well, I think it’s safe to say they’ve got it, anyway.’
Out in the hall, Fai is still chattering on.
(‘You rang that witch for their number?’
‘Kurogane. I rang the switchboard, actually, but somehow it went through to the chairwoman’s private line instead.’
‘Tche!’
‘I tried calling you first, but you didn’t pick up. Was everything alright?’
‘Yeah. Uh. I was just. In the shower.’)
In truth, Kurogane doesn’t know how this became his life. He never saw this for himself – well, who the fuck expects twins? - and yet… he’s glad of it, this thing they have, whatever it is. In plain terms, black and white, what they are doing is wrong: Fai and Yuui are brothers, twins, and they shouldn’t look at each other the way that they do, shouldn’t find each other’s mouths in the bed they share at night. And it’s not just the idiots, their transgressions set apart: no, Kurogane knows he has no business being with both men like this; certainly not at the same time. He’s not subject to the same laws as the twins, maybe, but in the end it’s not about that. Kurogane’s not stupid; he knows this, he knows.
But somehow, this works for them. Whatever this is. Because Kurogane could never choose between them: Fai, clever and infuriating, dark lashes and impish grin. Vulnerable between the cracks in ways he thinks nobody sees. Yuui’s soft voice and dry wit and warm mouth, the smile that makes Kurogane’s stomach fall away. Tiny creases in the corners of the man’s eyes when he laughs. Kurogane could never choose. They are different, but they are important, separate but equal, and it’s not even just about Kurogane. Because this, what they have, means Fai and Yuui don’t have to choose. He’s pretty sure that hasn’t always been the case: Fai and Yuui don’t talk about past lovers – smiling away details with a hundred vague friends - and not for his sake. Kurogane’s never been the jealous type. But some wounds never quite mend, it seems, coded in the curl of Fai’s body around his twin as they watch TV, in the press of Yuui’s lips against the crown of Fai’s head. Love hurts, especially when it’s the wrong kind.
But this works for them, Fai and Kurogane and Yuui all together, the shape the three of them make in their bed. On weekdays Kurogane stops working at six o’clock, sets aside assignments and lesson plans and parent-teacher reports. He’s next door pouring Yuui a drink by quarter past, other arm fending off Fai from drinking straight from the bottle.
(‘You’ve had my testicles in your mouth, Kuro-germs. Are you really that worried about a tiny drop of my saliva?’
‘Just use a glass!’)
And by ten o’clock he’s dozing, Fai’s head against his shoulder; the man thumbing through his science journal, circling things that catch his interest with a marker as he goes. The quietest moment of Fai’s entire day – Kurogane’s the only one who needs to be up obscenely early to run training before school – and Yuui joins them eventually, finished his pottering for the night. He slides into the empty space and sticks his cold feet into their warmth and somehow it’s to this that Kurogane falls asleep. Night after night. Blond hair and faded pyjama bottoms and a dog-eared manga on the bedside table. Waking to morning breath kisses and sleep-slurred goodbyes. The breakfast that Yuui left in a container in the fridge the night before. Morning after morning. Day after day. Weeks turning to months, and months turning to. Well. This.
It works for them. Somehow. And that, Kurogane thinks, is what really matters in the end.
None of that makes this something he can explain to his parents
- TBC
no subject
Date: 2014-08-20 03:07 am (UTC)Ahh, I love the mellow, dozy beginning. Just the words "Sunday morning" help to set the tone by themselves! I'm reveling in the sleepy, contented, loving atmosphere like it's a warm blanket. The idea of Kurogane and Yuui puttering around together in the kitchen is a soothing balm to my stressed-out soul~
Yuui teasing Fai; I love it!
And Kurogane lazing back as Yuui caps off breakfast with a blowjob...I more than love that. *noisy purring*
And oh, Kurogane such a matter-of-factly dutiful son. But of course he'd grow up to be this fine man, gruff on the outside perhaps but sweet and sure and right in all the needful ways on the inside...how could he not, with such parents? *eee*
I love how Kurogane, just barely awake yet, can twig to something being the matter with just a quick glance at Yuui's back. Just...everything. Everything everywhere in this story speaks of how well this relationship works for them. The bits that are spelled out clearly - not having to choose - and the bits that are just normal everyday things except they're not, not unless there's love and trust and so much time gone by and people sometimes take it for granted that of course such-and-such characters have this good understanding together...but they're human and no, it's not a matter of course. They misunderstand each other and fight and get selfish and all sorts of things, and you don't have this comfortable, caring fit without working at it.
...okay less rambling, more reading and reviewing. XD
I love how Kurogane loves them both so utterly and helplessly. And the way Fai and Yuui don't talk about certain things but scream it out loud all the same. The person who has the most power in all the world to hurt you with the least amount of effort is the person you love the most. It just...oh, how do you paint such beautiful, tender, aching pictures with words?
Thank you, thank you, thank you for this beautiful story. It's enough just as it is, but I'll be honest I'm happy there's more to come! Please do take all the time you want. I'll be happily re-reading this over and over and making sad yet happy crooning noises over it. <3
no subject
Date: 2014-08-20 09:53 am (UTC)ahhhhh but i'm so happy you like it so far! I AM 200% OK WITH ALL RAMBLING OK ESPECIALLY BUT NOT ONLY KFY RELATED RAMBLING THERE CAN NEVER BE TOO MUCH??? <.< thank you so much for being so generous and lovely, as always (and so kind about the incompleteness! ;_;). i'm really looking forward to getting this finished for you! <333