Chapter 3: Blood and Devotion
The quiet of the living room was a different creature than the kitchen’s had been. Softer, settled. Choso felt the pleasant ache of well-used muscles as he shifted against Yuji’s side, the old sofa creaking under them. The peace, however, was beginning to fray at its edges.
A low, dull throb had begun to bloom deep in his pelvis, a familiar, stubborn insistence. He tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of Yuji’s heart under his ear.But his body tensed, a slight hitch in his breath betraying him.
Yuji’s hand, which had been stroking lazy circles on his shoulder, stilled. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Choso murmured, the word too quick.
Yuji’s fingers drifted down, skating over the soft cotton of the borrowed t-shirt, coming to rest low on Choso’s abdomen.He applied the gentlest pressure. Choso couldn’t suppress a small, sharp inhale.“You’re cramping,” Yuji said.It wasn’t a question. His voice had lost its sleepy quality, sharpening with concern.
Before Choso could offer another dismissal, Yuji was moving. With a fluid, effortless motion, he guided Choso onto his back against the sofa cushions.He loomed over him, his pink hair catching the lamplight, his expression focused. He pushed the soft shirt up to Choso’s chest, baring the pale plane of his stomach and the delicate lace waistband underneath.The panties were dark, damp. A faint, metallic scent lifted from them, mixing with the lingering smell of Yuji’s cologne and their earlier shared shower. Yuji’s gaze fixed there, and the concern in his eyes transformed, shifting into something hotter, infinitely more hungry.
“Yuji,” Choso started, a flicker of self-consciousness tightening his throat.“Shhh.” Yuji’s voice was a low thrum. He hooked his thumbs into the lace and drew the panties down Choso’s thighs, the fabric clinging slightly.The sight beneath was intimate, visceral. The slick, red-stained folds, the evidence of a body’s private cycle. Choso felt exposed, a flush of something like shame heating his skin.But Yuji’s face showed no disgust.Only awe.And want.
“Let me take care of you,” Yuji breathed, the words a warm promise against Choso’s inner thigh.He didn’t wait for permission. He lowered his head, and his tongue, hot and broad, swept through him in one devastating stroke. Choso’s back arched off the couch, a shocked cry ripped from his lungs. The sensation was a brutal, exquisite collision—the soothing pressure against the ache, the intimate intrusion, the sheer obscene warmth of Yuji’s mouth there.Yuji moaned, the vibration traveling straight to Choso’s core. He ate with a desperate reverence, his tongue lapping at the mixed salt and iron, delving deep, then flattening against the most sensitive parts. His hands held Choso’s hips pinned to the cushions, his grip firm, anchoring.
“Taste so good,” Yuji muttered, the words muffled against his skin. “Always so good for me.” He drank deeply, messily, as if parched. Each stroke of his tongue was a claim, an act of worship that obliterated Choso’s lingering embarrassment. This was Yuji, finding him beautiful in every state, wanting every part of him.
The pain transformed, melting under the relentless focus, morphing into a different, coiling tension. Choso’s hands scrabbled against the worn cushions, his hips rolling up into that hot, wet mouth. Pleasure, sharp and bright, began to spear through the steady thrum of relief. He was sobbing now, little gasps punctuating the wet, rhythmic sounds.Yuji felt the change, the gathering storm. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking insistently, his lips sealing around him to suck gently. The world narrowed to that single, incendiary point of contact.When it broke, it was silent at first. Choso’s mouth opened in a soundless scream, his body seizing, back bowing impossibly high. Then the wave crashed, and he shook with a violence that felt earth-rending, his thighs clamping tight around Yuji’s head, holding him in place as the sensations wracked through him.
Yuji rode it out, gentle now, softening his licks until Choso’s convulsions subsided into weak tremors. Only then did he pull back, breathing heavily, his chin and lips glistening.He rested his forehead against Choso’s trembling thigh.
For a long minute, the only sound was their ragged breathing.The lamp flickered once.
Yuji finally lifted his head. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dark and sated. He looked up at Choso, who was still dazed, wrecked, staring at the ceiling.A slow, tender smile spread across Yuji’s face.
“Better?”
Choso managed a faint, breathless nod. The cramping was a distant memory, replaced by a deep, boneless satisfaction. “You’re… insane.”
“You were hurting,” Yuji said, as if it were the simplest equation in the world. He crawled back up the sofa, collapsing beside Choso and pulling him close again.He nuzzled into his hair. “And you taste better than any meal.”
A weak laugh escaped Choso. He turned, burying his face in Yuji’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispered, the words carrying more weight than for just the physical relief.Yuji just held him tighter.“Stay as long as you need.Okay? Through it all. I’m not scared of a little blood.” He chuckled, a low, warm sound.“Might even like it.”
Outside, the night deepened. The quiet between them now was full, a living thing they had built together.Choso let his eyes close. The fear of overstaying, of being too much, was still there, lurking. But under Yuji’s steadfast hand, warmed by his impossible heart, it felt smaller. For now, it was enough to just breathe him in, and believe, for one more moment, that tomorrow could be like this, too.