Hakkai/Gojyo fic!
More for 
kink_bingo, prompt bondage (wrists/ankles). Futurefic, though that's not super-relevant here. The usual 'this fic contains Hakkai' sort of warnings apply. Thanks to
emungere for betaing.
Gojyo thinks it was all his idea.
Dear, sweet, innocent Gojyo, his hair almost as red as the marks around his wrists. His arms stretched so high above his head it must be painful, and still he smiles, still his body shudders with pleasure, not fear.
Sometimes you think he is the stupidest man you know; sometimes you think he is far, far smarter than you. As you've grown older, you've realized the two options are not mutually exclusive.
Sometimes you think it was his idea, after all.
Neither of you would have dreamed of something like this until after, when bound wrists were a novelty rather than a threat, when you could unleash the vines without fearing going mad, or worse. (You've been mad, before, after all. Perhaps you still are. Gojyo never seems to mind, but madness was curse and nursemaid to him; he knows it as well as you, perhaps better. Perhaps he wouldn't love you if you weren't mad.)
Tonight the vines are thick around his wrists, coiling around his fingers, and keep his ankles bound to the bed. If he so much as wiggles it will be painful, but he wiggles anyway, writhing as you pull his bonds still tighter. "Shit, Hakkai," he says. "You gonna fuck me, or you just gonna leave me here all day?"
Both of you know, on some level, it could go either way.
Sometimes in your dreams, you tell Kanan about Gojyo. He's awfully good for me, you say. I don't think I'm much good for him at all.
But of course, that's not the full truth of it either. No other lover would-- could-- heal him afterward, the way you do, leaving not a trace of redness at his wrists, not a hint of soreness the morning after.
If you're not good for him, Kanan says in your dreams, then why do you stay?
And then you try to explain about trash day, and how Gojyo would no doubt have burned the house down before now if you weren't there-- it's a miracle he hadn't before you met-- and she laughs at you, because she has always been able to see through you, and you are transparent where Gojyo is concerned.
"Hakkai," Gojyo says, his tone a bit more insistent this time, his body shifting again. "You there?"
"Yes," you answer. "Of course, Gojyo, where else would I be?"
Gojyo does not mention the time you went and did the dishes while he remained, suspended in the bedroom. But he'd been so terribly grateful when you finally returned, and he'd clearly forgotten about that pretty new waitress he would insist on flirting with. He's wise enough not to mention it now. "You could be a little closer," he suggests instead, wiggling his hips.
Even in your dreams, you do not tell Kanan how beautiful Gojyo is. You could not begin to put into words what he looks like now, his skin flushed, his breath coming in quick motions. You can tell from his face that the bindings hurt, a little.
Sometimes you want to break him into pieces.
You take your shirt off slowly, feeling the fabric against your skin, thinking of how it feels when Gojyo touches you. Your mouth feels dry, and you swallow.
Gojyo licks his lips.
"Are you ready?" you ask.
"I'm naked, I'm tied up, and my dick's so hard it hurts to think. I'm ready."
"Good," you answer, and begin.
kink_bingo, prompt bondage (wrists/ankles). Futurefic, though that's not super-relevant here. The usual 'this fic contains Hakkai' sort of warnings apply. Thanks to
emungere for betaing.
Gojyo thinks it was all his idea.
Dear, sweet, innocent Gojyo, his hair almost as red as the marks around his wrists. His arms stretched so high above his head it must be painful, and still he smiles, still his body shudders with pleasure, not fear.
Sometimes you think he is the stupidest man you know; sometimes you think he is far, far smarter than you. As you've grown older, you've realized the two options are not mutually exclusive.
Sometimes you think it was his idea, after all.
Neither of you would have dreamed of something like this until after, when bound wrists were a novelty rather than a threat, when you could unleash the vines without fearing going mad, or worse. (You've been mad, before, after all. Perhaps you still are. Gojyo never seems to mind, but madness was curse and nursemaid to him; he knows it as well as you, perhaps better. Perhaps he wouldn't love you if you weren't mad.)
Tonight the vines are thick around his wrists, coiling around his fingers, and keep his ankles bound to the bed. If he so much as wiggles it will be painful, but he wiggles anyway, writhing as you pull his bonds still tighter. "Shit, Hakkai," he says. "You gonna fuck me, or you just gonna leave me here all day?"
Both of you know, on some level, it could go either way.
Sometimes in your dreams, you tell Kanan about Gojyo. He's awfully good for me, you say. I don't think I'm much good for him at all.
But of course, that's not the full truth of it either. No other lover would-- could-- heal him afterward, the way you do, leaving not a trace of redness at his wrists, not a hint of soreness the morning after.
If you're not good for him, Kanan says in your dreams, then why do you stay?
And then you try to explain about trash day, and how Gojyo would no doubt have burned the house down before now if you weren't there-- it's a miracle he hadn't before you met-- and she laughs at you, because she has always been able to see through you, and you are transparent where Gojyo is concerned.
"Hakkai," Gojyo says, his tone a bit more insistent this time, his body shifting again. "You there?"
"Yes," you answer. "Of course, Gojyo, where else would I be?"
Gojyo does not mention the time you went and did the dishes while he remained, suspended in the bedroom. But he'd been so terribly grateful when you finally returned, and he'd clearly forgotten about that pretty new waitress he would insist on flirting with. He's wise enough not to mention it now. "You could be a little closer," he suggests instead, wiggling his hips.
Even in your dreams, you do not tell Kanan how beautiful Gojyo is. You could not begin to put into words what he looks like now, his skin flushed, his breath coming in quick motions. You can tell from his face that the bindings hurt, a little.
Sometimes you want to break him into pieces.
You take your shirt off slowly, feeling the fabric against your skin, thinking of how it feels when Gojyo touches you. Your mouth feels dry, and you swallow.
Gojyo licks his lips.
"Are you ready?" you ask.
"I'm naked, I'm tied up, and my dick's so hard it hurts to think. I'm ready."
"Good," you answer, and begin.