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He hates The Traveler for this. So much.
"Can you sit on my face?" Itto slurs, and Scaramouche just barely fights the urge to whack him upside the head. As it is, he just sighs dramatically, continuing to fill the glass in his hands with water. When it's full, he hands it off to Itto, who whines like a kicked dog when he storms upstairs.
"Please, Scara?" he pleads pathetically, trailing after him. The water gets dangerously close to spilling as he holds the glass loosely in his hands. Archons above, if Scaramouche has to clean up broken glass and spilt water on top of dealing with this drunk buffoon-
"I'm not sitting on your face. Not when you're drunk." He pushes their bedroom door open with a roll of his eyes. Dumbass. This is why he hates being near drunkards; they're never thinking with their brain, at all. Itto should count his lucky stars that he at least likes him enough to not kick him out for the night. Said Oni makes a sad little noise, before setting the glass down on the bedside table. Not even taking a sip, how ungrateful.
"But…"
"There are no 'buts'," Scaramouche retorts, angrily fluffing up their pillows. "Where'd this even come from?"
He can see how Itto kicks his feet against the floor in his peripherals. The Oni then flops onto the bed on his back, groaning.
"Traveler… said that Xiao does it," he mutters, and Scaramouche feels the urge to strangle something as he sets their pillows back down. Stupid, stupid, stupid Traveler, putting ideas in Itto's head. How the hell did that even come up, anyway? The party must've gotten pretty derailed for them to suddenly talk about their sex life, especially so openly, Archons.
"What, it inspired you that much?"
The Oni groans, making grabby motions in the air. Scaramouche stares at him for several moments. Itto must realise that he's not going to give in without an answer, so he turns his head to look at him.
He looks pathetic, really. There are knots in his hair where it got tussled against the sheets (he's always complaining about how easily he gets them from the littlest things), and his eyes are droopy — he looks completely sapped of energy, and, yeah, whatever, maybe Scaramouche feels a little bad for being mean to him. He relents with a long, drawn-out sigh, trudging over to Itto before straddling his lap. The Oni grins sluggishly, squeezing the meat of his hips.
"It's just been so long, y'know?"
A week, Scaramouche recalls distantly.
"Miss having it on my tongue. You're so pretty when I," he's cut off by a yawn, "eat you out. The way you moan my name," he starts to draw little circles on Scaramouche's skin with his thumb, "the cute faces you make when I-"
His words die out when Scaramouche grabs a pillow and holds it over his face.
(And if he's blushing as he does so, that's his business and his alone.)
The thought plagues his mind the following days (because of course it does).
Itto, to his credit, has the decency to look embarrassed the morning after (most likely aided by the headache from not drinking the water he was given (serves him right)), but he does nothing to show that he remembers what happened — what he said. Scaramouche would half think he was making the whole thing up if he didn't trust his memory as much as he does. So, now… all he can do is stew in it. Let it fester and grow with every flick of Itto's tongue or offhanded comment about how good his food tastes.
He's not going to lie and say that he wasn't thinking about it before it was brought up. Sue him, whatever — Itto's really good at eating him out. It helps that he's always so enthusiastic about it, but even just on a skill level, he's insane. It's for the best that he does it less often now, for the sake of Scaramouche's soul and his pussy (Itto would rub the thing raw if given the chance). And it hasn't even been that long. Itto just put the thought in his head and it's as if it has grown legs the way it runs around his mind every hour of the day.
Itto doesn't even seem to realise the hormonal purgatory he's put upon him, going about his day as per usual without a care in the world. But not even three days afterward, Scaramouche has finally had enough.
He brings it up when they've just came back from a date (though with Itto's attitude, half of their dates just feel like hangouts anyway) in Lambad's tavern. The night had been good, with Scaramouche even humouring some of his jokes, so it only makes sense that, as per usual-
"Pretty," Itto murmurs against his lips as he pulls Scaramouche's top layer off. "You're so cute." He kisses the corner of Scaramouche's mouth as his own quirks into a grin. Scaramouche just rolls his eyes fondly, pulling him by the hair into a deeper one. Their lips move easily against one another, slow and sweet. Itto pulls away with an oomph when he's pushed onto his back, but Scaramouche just dives right back in, their teeth knocking together slightly. The Oni hums inquisitively against him but lays back without complaint, hands moving to squeeze Scaramouche's ass.
He palms the flesh, pulling him forward to rock subtly against him. The contact, even through several layers of fabric, makes a groan resonate between them, the rhythm of their kiss faltering.
When Scaramouche finally pulls away, Itto looks up at him reverently, eyes soft as his chest heaves. His hair splays out under him like a halo, and Scaramouche pulls him up by his chest strap for one last kiss for good measure (because he's pretty, or whatever).
"You comfy up there?" Itto asks with a barely suppressed grin.
Scaramouche grinds down again, effectively shutting him up. The Oni curses under his breath, his hold on him tightening before relaxing again.
"You trynna take the lead, cutie?"
Well. Now's a good time as any, he supposes.
Scaramouche slowly trails a finger up Itto's chest, listening to the way his breath hitches. He lets the tension simmer as he rests it on Itto's lips, as if he's shushing him.
"I think you should let me sit on your face."
The effect is instantaneous.
Itto's face goes a deep shade of red, and he throws his head back, groaning. His cock throbs underneath Scaramouche, but Scaramouche just watches in amusement as he processes his words fully. It takes several moments before he's even able to form words, and Scaramouche watches the whole time like the cat who got the cream.
"Yup, that's- okay. Uh-huh. You can do that, definitely. Please." Itto's tone is desperate as he looks back at him, and Scaramouche feels heat pool in his stomach at just how eager he sounds. Archons.
There's a struggle with both of their clothes for the next 5 minutes (as it turns out, trying to take your shorts off while sitting on someone isn't that easy), Itto keeping his harness on but tossing everything else to the floor. After the struggle, Scaramouche hovers just over his face, hands gripping the headboard. The Oni shifted his grip to his hips instead, leaving Scaramouche to hold himself up with his shaky knees and a shred of patience.
He can already feel just how wet he is at the mere idea of having Itto's tongue on him again. Speaking of — Itto's gaze is focused directly on his cunt, and his tongue pokes out to lick his lips. His nails dig into Scaramouche's thighs, as if he's completely absorbed just looking at him that he's forgotten his own capabilities. Which, what an ego boost, first of all. Secondly, however:
"You want it?"
Itto nods, peering up at him through his eyelashes. He kisses the inside of Scaramouche's thighs, a breath away from where he really wants him. It drives him crazy.
"C'mon, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so bad-"
Itto's cut off by Scaramouche settling down against him, and he groans open-mouthed into his cunt. He immediately starts lapping at his folds, tongue flattening against him. The hands around Scaramouche's hips start to urge him down even more, and he gives up on holding his own weight, sitting down fully. The Oni moans appreciatively, kissing his clit as a thank you.
He swirls his tongue against the bud, and Scaramouche moans, leaning forward against the headboard. He can't look away from Itto as he goes to town on him, eyes slipped close. The way his thick tongue drags though his wetness makes him shake, and the vibration from Itto chuckling against him makes it even worse.
"Fuck, that's, mm, that's it-" He finds himself bucking his hips subconsciously into it, practically riding Itto's face after just a few seconds of contact.
Itto's tongue glides over his clit on every pass, Scaramouche moaning at every one. He feels like he gets sucker punched in the gut when the Oni wraps his lips around it and sucks gently — Scaramouche's eyes clench closed as his head hangs, forehead pressed against the headboard, needy moans slipping from his tongue without care. Itto seems to be encouraged by his noises, sucking it even harder.
The wet noises of Itto eating him out makes his skin flush. More than it already was, anyway, what with the Oni practically making out with his cunt.
Scaramouche feels his breath hitch in his chest as his orgasm begins to build. He grinds his hips helplessly against Itto's tongue as even more pitchy moans slip from his lips, drool starting to build at the corner of his mouth.
"I'm gonna- gonna cum-"
The world flips as he's suddenly shoved on his back, hips in the air. He only gets to feel disoriented for a second before immediately being distracted by Itto still lapping desperately at his pussy. There's suddenly two thick fingers inside with them, and the frantic come hither motion of them against his walls makes him sob.
The Oni moans into him, Scaramouche's legs over his shoulders and thighs squeezed against his head. It almost seems like he's trying to get even closer as he drags Scaramouche's hips up even further, until Scaramouche is almost upside down. Blood rushes to his head as the only part of his body still left on the crumpled sheets.
Itto refocuses on his clit, fingers curling inside of him, and the coiling in his gut builds and builds. Scaramouche is barely able to warn Itto with a startled little noise before it finally comes undone and his mind goes blank.
He can distantly feel Itto's lips still moving against him, but his brain feels like it's melting out of his ears as he squirts. The spurts of it soak Itto's chin as he tries to swallow as much as he can, dripping on the sheets below and down Scaramouche's back. He would find it gross if his eyes weren't rolled back into his skull.
It takes him what feels like years to settle back down, and when he does, his back is rested against the sheets again, eyes once again closed. When he shivers, he feels the covers be draped over him, and his body relaxes under the warmth. His body still twitches every few moments, wracked with the mini aftershocks of his orgasm, but they gradually reside. As soon as they do, he's reaching out for Itto.
The Oni immediately holds him close, and Scaramouche relaxes even further at the comforting yet firm grip his arms have around him. His eyes slowly flicker open, and he meets the other's eyes. Itto looks a lot less wrecked than he expected (he probably cleaned up already, his barely-there brain supplies), and he offers him a serene smile, looking genuinely too at peace with the world for someone who hasn't even cum yet.
"Missed that." He licks his lips, and Scaramouche punches his arm weakly. "Forreal, though. 10/10, 5 star Michelin meal, would — and will — eat again."
Scaramouche feels his body finally start to come back online, and he shoots him a warning glance, before turning away. He ignores the warmth in his cheeks.
"Shut up or you're never doing that again."
Itto snorts from behind him. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."
There's a few minutes of blessed silence between them, before Scaramouche stretches his legs under the covers. He looks over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow at Itto expectantly.
"Are you going to fuck me now, or what?"
"Sir yes sir!"