Chapter 2: Baptism by Fire
The first light of dawn was a pale, insistent thief. It crept through the pine boughs, stealing the intimacy of the dark, turning the embers of their fire into grey ash. Jin stirred, the rough wool of his cloak scratching his cheek. A profound ache settled deep in his muscles, a pleasant, heavy reminder. The space beside him was empty, still warm.
He sat up. Ryuzo stood at the edge of the clearing, his back to Jin, looking east where the sky bled from indigo to a sickly yellow. The lines of his shoulders were tense, the easy confidence of the night before folded away with the darkness.
“The world didn’t end,” Jin said, his voice gravelly with sleep.
Ryuzo glanced over his shoulder, a ghost of his smirk playing on his lips. “Debatable. My head feels like a Mongol war drum.” He nodded toward the woods. “Heard the stream earlier. Colder than a witch’s kiss. Good for washing off… the night.”
The pause was deliberate. Jin pushed himself up, every movement echoing the unfamiliar usage of his body. He gathered his scattered clothing, the silence between them now filled with daylight’s awkward clarity.
The stream was a silver ribbon cutting through mossy stone, its chatter loud in the morning quiet. Jin shed his clothes on the bank, the air raising gooseflesh on his skin. He waded in, hissing as the water bit his ankles, his calves, his thighs. It was a brutal, clarifying shock.
He dunked his head, scrubbing his hands through his hair as if he could wash away the confusion along with the scent of smoke and sex. When he surfaced, gasping, Ryuzo was there on the bank, not undressing, just watching him.
“See something you like?” Jin asked, the attempt at levity falling flat in the crisp air.
“Always.” Ryuzo’s tone was light, but his eyes weren’t. They tracked a bead of water sliding down Jin’s chest. “Just memorizing the view. In case I need to draw it later for the men.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m a hilarious man.” Ryuzo finally pulled his shirt over his head. A vivid bruise was forming on his collarbone. Jin looked away, a hot flicker of possession startling him. Ryuzo stepped into the water, his own intake of breath sharp. “Gods. This is worse than the winter siege at Ogawa.”
“Stop complaining,” Jin said, turning to submerge himself again.
A strong hand closed around his wrist.
Jin froze, the water swirling around his waist. Ryuzo’s grip was firm, his fingers cool from the air. “You missed a spot,” Ryuzo murmured, his voice losing its edge.
He stepped closer, the current pushing their legs together. With his other hand, he scooped up water and let it trickle over Jin’s shoulder, following the path of a faint scratch with his thumb. The touch was clinical at first. Then it wasn’t.
His thumb rubbed a slow circle. His eyes locked on Jin’s. The playful pretense evaporated, replaced by the raw, hungering intensity from the firelight. Here, in the brutally cold, sun-dappled water, it felt more dangerous.
“Ryuzo,” Jin warned, but his voice lacked conviction.
“Shhh.” Ryuzo’s hand slid from his wrist to the small of his back, pulling him in. The shock of their bodies connecting underwater was electric. “Just cleaning up. Can’t have the legendary Ghost smelling like me, can we?”
His other hand came up, not washing, but framing Jin’s jaw, his thumb pressing against Jin’s lower lip. The dual assault—the firm hold on his back, the possessive grip on his face—left Jin momentarily paralyzed. The water roared in his ears.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Ryuzo said, his breath a warm cloud in the space between them. “I can hear it from here. You’re tallying sins, weighing honor, wondering what your uncle would say.” He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of Jin’s ear. “Stop thinking.”
He pushed.
It was a controlled maneuver, using Jin’s own balance against him. Jin’s back met the slick, moss-covered face of a large rock at the stream’s edge. The cold stone shocked the air from his lungs. Ryuzo crowded him immediately, one hand planted on the rock beside Jin’s head, the other still on his jaw, holding him in place.
“There,” Ryuzo said, his gaze dropping to Jin’s mouth. “Now you’re not going anywhere.”
“This is ridiculous,” Jin managed, but he made no move to shove him away. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic counter-rhythm to the rushing stream.
“Is it?” Ryuzo’s knee nudged Jin’s legs apart, settling between them. The rock was at Jin’s back, Ryuzo a solid, heated wall in front. Trapped. “Feels pretty straightforward to me.” He dipped his head, his nose skimming along Jin’s throat. “You smell like me. I like it. I’m not done with you yet.”
His mouth found the join of Jin’s neck and shoulder, not a kiss, but a slow, open-mouthed press of lips and tongue against the chilled skin. A bolt of pure heat shot straight down Jin’s spine. His head fell back against the rock with a soft thud.
Ryuzo’s free hand left his jaw, sliding down his chest, his stomach, leaving a trail of fire in the icy water. He took Jin in hand, his grip firm and knowing. Jin gasped, the sound swallowed by the stream and Ryuzo’s mouth on his neck.
“Quiet,” Ryuzo murmured against his skin, his hand beginning a slow, torturous stroke. “The whole forest will hear you. The birds will carry tales of the mighty Jin Sakai, moaning like a tavern whore against a river rock.”
The crude words, the breathtaking juxtaposition of the savage cold on his back and the searing heat in Ryuzo’s grasp, shattered him. A low groan was torn from his throat. He was fully, achingly hard in Ryuzo’s hand, his hips pushing forward of their own accord, seeking more friction, more of that devastating touch.
“That’s it,” Ryuzo breathed, his own voice tightening. He quickened his pace, his thumb sweeping over the head of Jin’s cock with each pass. “No armor. No code. Just this. Just my hand on you. Tell me you don’t belong to this. To me. Right now.”
Jin couldn’t speak. His fingers scrabbled against the slick rock, finding no purchase. He was completely at the mercy of the current and the man ruining him. His climax built fast, too fast, a tight coil in his gut ready to snap. He was panting, ragged breaths pluming in the cold air.
“Look at me,” Ryuzo demanded, his voice rough.
Jin’s eyes, which had been squeezed shut, flew open. Ryuzo’s face was inches away, his expression a feral mix of triumph and raw need. He was watching Jin fall apart, drinking in every twitch, every helpless gasp.
“You’re mine in this water,” Ryuzo stated, the words a low growl that vibrated through Jin’s very bones. His hand worked faster, a ruthless, perfect rhythm. “Say it.”
Jin’s orgasm hit him like a wave, brutal and obliterating. His back arched, his mouth opened in a silent cry as he spilled over Ryuzo’s fist, the hot release instantly stolen by the frigid stream. Pleasure, sharp and almost painful, wracked him, leaving him trembling and boneless against the rock.
Ryuzo held him through it, his grip gentling but not letting go until the last tremor subsided. He kept him pinned, his body a cage, his eyes watching the aftershocks in Jin’s face with something like reverence.
Slowly, Jin’s awareness returned. The cold. The rough stone. The absurd, undeniable reality of his situation. Ryuzo slowly released him, bringing his wet hand up between them. He never broke eye contact as he lifted his fingers to his own mouth and slowly, deliberately, licked them clean.
The act was so profoundly obscene, so shockingly intimate, that Jin felt a fresh jolt of heat, this time layered with a deep, resonant shame.
Ryuzo saw it. He smiled, a real smile that softened his eyes. “Stop that,” he said softly, wiping his hand in the water. “No regrets before breakfast. It’s bad luck.” He pushed off the rock, the spell breaking. The morning sounds rushed back in—the birds, the stream, the wind. “Come on. You’ll turn into an ice sculpture. My men would never let me hear the end of it.”
He turned and waded back toward the bank, leaving Jin alone, propped against the rock, shivering from more than the cold. The water had washed him clean, but he felt newly marked, branded by the chill and by the devastating simplicity of Ryuzo’s possession.
He took a deep, steadying breath, pushed himself upright, and followed.