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Kyujurou had been the flame pillar for an year when Giyuu had been promoted to water pillar. His aloof demeanor earned him the ire of a number of the other pillars, especially Sanemi and Iguro. But there was something familiar about the seemingly empty blue eyes, the line of his mouth that seemed to perpetually frozen in a straight line. To a less discerning eye, Giyuu could easily be seen as someone with an attitude problem, perhaps even arrogant as so many others paint him to be. To Kyujurou though, he read the newly promoted water pillar as something else all together: a reflection of his own face. Not the ever-smiling mask he presented but the prolonged sorrow and desolation that he hid beneath it. The grief, anger, and anguish that seemed as natural to him as the blood that coursed through his veins. They both wore masks, the only difference being the one they chose to wear for others.
Despite his vacant expression, Giyuu’s senses were always roaming. If he had one talent, it was to remain vigilant without so much a muscle in his body twitching. Not unlike the still surface of a body of water; as even the most ghostly disturbance would send a signal, a ripple that resonates all throughout.
There was the faint but sweet scent of red bean coming from Sanemi, the lilting voice of Shinobu that hid more than it let on, the clack of the monastic beads that Gyomei rolled between his massive hands from time to time. But more than that, he sensed something more curious whenever the flame pillar spoke, which was often and quite loudly. To a less fine-tuned ear, one would say confidence seemed to drip from every fiber of Kyujurou’s being. One could easily believe he was infallible, a man truly worthy of being one of the pillars that kept the Demon Slayer Corps afloat. And he truly was. But despite Giyuu’s desire to block out what he deemed “unnecessary,” it was hard to ignore the insecurity that edged every word that came from Kyujurou’s mouth. The confident demeanor was, not unlike himself, not much more than a facade.
Perhaps that was why, against their better judgement, they felt drawn to each other. It was a little ironic that their elements were considered opposites but there was a metaphor about how opposites attract, was there not? But Giyuu was never one for poetry and Kyujurou preferred expressing his affection through actions. Even now, this held true as his hands slid along the inside of the water pillar’s thighs, a calloused thumb rubbing against the soft skin.
“We don’t have all night, Kyujurou,” Giyuu said, his flushed face a stark contrast to his otherwise even tone. “Hurry up.”
“Never thought of you as the impatient type. And besides,” the other man said, eyes gleaming as he leaned down to press his lips against the inside of his bared knee. “You look pretty like this.”
His golden-crimson eyes seemed to gleam even in the shadows of their shared suite. Giyuu looked away, the slat of moonlight that peeked through the windows revealing the flush that dusted his otherwise pale complexion a delicious shade of pink. The flame pillar drank in the sight, Giyuu’s inky black hair loose and curling against his exposed shoulder. But it was difficult to resist the wordless begging to be touched, the muscles in the water pillar’s thighs twitching impatiently beneath Kyujurou’s hands. So he wasted little time in dipping his head down to kiss Giyuu where he was hottest, neediest.
When they had first started acquainting themselves with the each other’s bodies, Kyujurou realized quickly that Giyuu’s lack of verbosity extended into even the more intimate moments of their relationship. It wasn’t that he didn’t make Giyuu feel good; the way he expressed pleasure was just more bodily, the unspoken words a language that Kyujurou learned to decipher piece by piece. The trembling of his thighs, the flutter of his eyelashes, the way his fingers curled and tugged at his hair were a love language of its own.
You feel so good. I’m close. Harder.
All it took was patience and willingness to learn. And after all, Kyujurou was the last person to back down from a challenge. Not when that “challenge” was Tomioka Giyuu, the most infuriatingly beautiful puzzle-box of a man that he’s ever laid hands on.
The water pillar’s lips parted in a barely audible sigh, hands tangling themselves in Kyujurou’s hair as he licked up from his entrance to his cock in a deft familiarity, his low groan of pleasure against the most sensitive bundle of nerves sending a shock of pleasure up Giyuu’s spine.
“You’re so pretty” Kyujurou murmured before dipping his face back down between the water pillar’s legs. Giyuu shivered involuntarily, flushing warm at his praise.
The flame pillar looped his arms beneath the bend of Giyuu’s knees, hands gripping his thighs so hard that it was sure to leave a mark. But as expected, neither of them were all that concerned; it worked in their favor anyway, considering how much Giyuu secretly enjoyed being claimed and how much Kyujurou wanted him all for his own as is. The water pillar’s fingers had long since found their way in the other man’s dual-toned hair, the loving hold turning into a harsh tug as the Kyujurou’s tongue brushed by a particularly sweet spot.
Even with the other man’s thighs clamped around his head, the flame pillar knew by now how Giyuu’s body language worked. He wanted more, wanted his mouth there, and who was Rengoku Kyujurou to refuse the silent yet sweet pleas of his lover? He pushed his face with even more enthusiasm, his nose bumping up against the other man’s clit as he lavished that particular spot with his mouth.
Giyuu felt like he was going to overheat. His chest heaved as he allowed his eyes to dart down. The scene looked as debauched to him as it would have to some unfortunate passerby: the shoulders of his robes pooling around his elbow, pert nipples on display, his legs spread wide with Kyujurou crouching between them. Part of the fabric obfuscated his lover as he pleasured him and part of him wanted to rip it away, see for himself the obscene things that Kyujurou was capable of with his mouth that got him this wet. But there was something even more thrilling about not knowing, that he didn’t have to see what he was doing to feel so goddamn heavenly.
“Fuck…” Giyuu breathed out, tipping his head back.
He was close and even he couldn’t help uttering soft expletives into the musky heat between them. Giyuu tightened his grip in Kyujurou’s hair, his other hand pinching at his own nipple. He had to bite down on his own lip to keep himself from bucking his hips up against the building pleasure in his core.
No matter what Giyuu said about the way he tasted, Kyujurou was loathe to find something quite as satisfying as his lover’s pleasure. The flame pillar always had a voracious hunger, emptying piles of bowls of food, never leaving so much as a fleck of rice or thread of noodle uneaten. And he had no reason to be any less thorough with Giyuu, enthusiastically licking and mouthing at all the places that made the water pillar clench up from pleasure.
When Giyuu finally manages to come, Kyujurou lightens the vice grip he had around Giyuu’s thighs but remained between the water pillar’s legs. He cleaned up the arousal still trickling from his entrance, even making a show of licking his swollen lips after he was finished. Giyuu made an attempt at a disgusted face, though its effect was considerably weakened by the fact that he still looked deliciously debauched. Kyujurou laughed, cupping Giyuu’s cheek in one hand as he brushed the pad of his thumb against the sharp line of his cheekbone. The water pillar’s skin was still warm to the touch and even now, especially now, the flush that still dusted his face looked divine.
A sight too beautiful, even holy, as far as Kyujurou was concerned. And even if Giyuu didn’t think that way about himself, he was more than happy to tell him and show him for as long as it took for him to believe it and then some more.