[fic] KHR - Devotion (2/2)
Title: Devotion
Characters: Chrome Dokuro, Rokudou Mukuro, Joushima Ken, Kakimoto Chikusa
Summary: Sometimes it's really difficult to figure out what Mukuro-sama actually wants.
Notes: 11,602 words worth of no-holds-barred, balls-to-the-wall smut. Post TYL-arc, most of the permutations of Chrome/Mukuro/Chikusa/Ken that you can imagine and probably at least one that you weren't expecting, and did I mention the smut? Part One
~~~~~~~~~~
The question came back to her whenever things returned to the bedroom, either when he invited her into his illusion, or crossed over to the real world to take up with Ken and Chikusa. Chrome worried at the problem of it while Mukuro-sama spread Chikusa out against the bed and held him there. Mukuro-sama clearly liked what he was doing, and she could feel the surges of pleasure as he slid in and out of Chikusa, slow and deep and steady despite the way Chikusa moaned for him.
But the pleasure wasn't the end goal for him. That was evident in any of their encounters, no matter who he partnered with--he left them limp and wrung out and never came close to that edge himself.
Why do you do this for us? she asked, as he thrust into Chikusa, who groaned as that drove him deeper into Ken.
Hm? Mukuro-sama asked, as Ken reached for the headboard and braced himself against it, head falling back and throat gleaming as he groaned.
This, Chrome murmured, with a metaphorical gesture at herself and the boys as Mukuro-sama rocked into Chikusa again, and the entire bed shook. What do you get from this?
Satisfied minions, he grunted, and pointedly ignored her after that as he fucked Chikusa and Ken into an exhausted, sweaty tangle.
The thing of it was, it had the ring of truth to it, she decided, as Ken wound himself around Mukuro-sama. Part of it was true--and not the minions bit. The satisfaction part felt like it was important.
Perhaps she was going about it all wrong. Chrome cast back through her memories, thinking about Mukuro-sama's first encounter with Ken and Chikusa. He'd responded when he'd seen the want in them.
What are you thinking so hard about? he asked, as Chikusa settled a head on his shoulder.
And the first time he'd brought her to bed--it had been when she was feeling particularly alone and excluded by the boys, hadn't it?
Chrome-- he began, tone wary, when she turned to him.
You want us to be happy, she hazarded. You want to give us what we want.
Don't be ridiculous, he snorted. Do I look like that sentimental of a fool?
You do, she said, softly, convinced now, by the irritation in his tone and the way his presence had turned impervious to her curiosity. You're doing it to take care of us.
I do it so you won't be distracted by your hormones when you should be concentrating on more important things.
Chrome took a breath. I don't believe you.
Oh, go to sleep, he growled, irritated.
She had just long enough to feel the uncertainty in him before his will folded over her and dragged her down into unconsciousness.
When she woke up, Chikusa was gone, Ken's hand was on her breast, and Chrome wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that.
What was more, she could feel Mukuro-sama lurking at the back of her head, pretending disinterest in the whole thing.
Mukuro-sama, where are my clothes? she asked--well, demanded--as Ken made a sleepy noise and stretched.
Mukuro-sama remained quite pointedly silent, and Ken finished waking up.
"Mm," he said, and pressed against her, face burrowing against her throat--and perhaps that was what got his attention, that she didn't smell like Chikusa. He went still against her side, and raised his head, and said her name in a kind of frozen disbelief.
"Mukuro-sama is being strange," she said, and shrugged at him a little helplessly.
That was when he realized where his hand was, but instead of going red, his eyes turned thoughtful. "Strange," he repeated, and tipped his head to the side, looking at her. His fingers curved around her, slowly, like he was uncertain what to do with softness. "Good strange or bad strange?"
Chrome ignored the way her breath and body wanted to respond to the caress, and thought about the question and the watchful presence overseeing them. She wanted to say, I can see what you're trying to do, but didn't. Mukuro-sama made plans within plans; this probably was to distract her from the questions he didn't want to answer, but it was probably to do something else, too. "Just strange," she said, finally, and set a hand on Ken's shoulder, feeling the rangy strength of him with her own fingers.
He snorted. "It's Mukuro-sama. What do you expect?"
"Good point," she agreed, and let him kiss her, not really surprised at all that he would accept this as easily as that. Ken was the uncomplicated one, the one who let things be what they were. It was no wonder Mukuro-sama had chosen him first.
She wasn't surprised that Ken had no idea what to do with a girl, either, and sighed, a little exasperated, when his hands turned too rough on her. "No," she said, and caught his hands. "Not like that. Like this."
He looked relieved at that, and let her guide his hands over her body, showing him how to stroke her so that heat wound through her. Chrome considered that relief, and took his shoulders when his hips began to rock against hers with an urgency that made her feel obscurely satisfied. "Lay back for me," she told him.
The way he did, without question, was gratifying, and so was the expression on his face--surprise, pleasure--as she knelt over his hips and lowered herself onto him. Chrome showed him how to hold her, and he caught the trick of moving with her almost immediately.
He really likes this, she said, kneading her hands over Ken's chest, moaning with the heat of his thrusts, hard and deep, and the pleasure that skittered through her.
She hadn't expected a reply, but she got the sense of Mukuro-sama lifting a shoulder, careless. It's Ken, he said, dry as dust. What do you expect?
Chrome couldn't help laughing, even as she took Ken's hand and showed him where to touch her, and she came undone with that laughter on her lips.
For good or ill, Chikusa wasn't nearly as easy to deal with. He took one look at Ken and Chrome when he got home, turned sharply on his heel, and left again, all without saying anything. Ken went after him; neither of them came home that night.
Chrome wanted to ask Mukuro-sama what he thought, and whether it would be okay, but he had withdrawn and wouldn't respond to her questions.
She wasn't sure which one of them was more relieved the next morning when the key turned in the lock. Chikusa came in with Ken skulking after him, both of them rumpled and with circles under their eyes and Ken with a series of bruises running down his throat and under his collar. It was hard to say; she'd already begun turning away from the sink, hands dripping with suds, when they came in. By the time she'd taken half a step, she'd ceded control to Mukuro-sama, and it was Mukuro-sama who folded his arms around Chikusa when Chikusa came to them.
"Shh, my own," he said against Chikusa's hair, as Chikusa wound his fists in Mukuro-sama's shirt and shook, silently. "I have you."
Chrome was the one who heard the unspoken corollary: I won't let you go.
But perhaps Chikusa heard it through Mukuro-sama's hands, when Mukuro-sama guided him into the bedroom and onto the bed, and in the way Mukuro-sama touched him, spread him out and bound him down with a set of soft scarves. Mukuro-sama took him like that, driving him over the edge of pleasure once, and then again, moving over him and in him relentlessly, until Chikusa was shivering and limp beneath him. Through it all, Ken stayed close, and for once, his eyes were all for Chikusa, and when he reached out to touch, it was to stroke his hands over Chikusa, carding his hair back from his face and stroking his shoulders.
"My own," Mukuro-sama told him again, after Chikusa's gasping cries had eased into silence.
Chikusa turned his face into the palm that cradled his cheek. His voice was hoarse when he whispered, "Mukuro-sama."
"Don't fret yourself so," Mukuro-sama told him. "It will be well."
Chrome started; that was what Mukuro-sama had told her, too, when this was all beginning to unfold.
Chikusa sighed and pressed his lips to Mukuro-sama's palm. "Yes," he said softly.
Mukuro-sama took the weight of that trust easily, and gathered him up, holding him and stroking his back. Chikusa unwound against him, slipping into sleep so easily that Chrome wondered whether Mukuro-sama had cheated, or whether it was that Chikusa simply hadn't slept the night before.
Ken crept closer, and Mukuro-sama folded an arm around him, too. "I have to go soon," he said, presently.
Ken made a sound, acknowledging the point, and let Mukuro-sama ease Chikusa into his arms. "He understands now," Ken said, not looking up as he settled Chikusa's head against his shoulder. "But you scared him."
Mukuro-sama's hands stilled on Chikusa's hair. "I see that now," he said, finally. "That was a miscalculation."
From Mukuro-sama, that was as good as an apology. Ken's eyes cleared. "Shit happens," he said, and caught Mukuro-sama's hand before he could go.
Mukuro-sama smiled, and leaned over to press his lips against Ken's forehead briefly. Then he slipped away, leaving Chrome behind.
Ken made a surprised sound, and caught her before she could overbalance. "Does it ever bother you when he does that?" he asked, easing her down against his side.
"Only when he doesn't leave me any clothes," Chrome said, which was, thankfully, not the case this time. Ken snorted. Chikusa's face was slack in sleep, the lines that had been etched around his mouth when he'd first come in eased away. She reached out and touched his cheek, delicately. "Will he be okay?"
"Oh, yeah," Ken said. "He's a tough bastard. You'll see."
Chrome leaned against him. One way or another, she supposed she would.
Ken's assurance notwithstanding, it still took Chikusa a while to relax. The way he looked at Chrome--whether he thought she was looking back or not--reminded her of the expression he'd worn when they'd first met, when she'd been the interloper who'd stood between Chikusa and Mukuro-sama and had threatened to displace him completely.
Now he looked at her like that again, despite everything, and Mukuro-sama was no help.
Give him time, he said, when Chikusa had given her a look of disgust upon catching her leaning against Ken. (That hadn't been particularly fair of Chikusa, she thought; it wasn't like they'd even been doing anything. Ken had been napping, for pity's sake, and she'd been reading!) And Give him time, he said, when Chikusa found reasons to drag Ken out to do things that left Ken dazed and grinning rather stupidly whenever they came back in.
And Give him time, he said, whenever Chikusa's first response to knowing that Ken and Chrome had been together was to pin Ken to the nearest flat surface and fuck him till he screamed.
Just how much time do you think he needs? Chrome asked him, finally, a little tired of being the patient one.
It's hard to say, with the ones like him. She got the sense that Mukuro-sama was shaking his head. Never mind him for now, he said, and drew her into his illusion. "Trust me," he murmured against her throat. Chrome surrendered and let him distract her from her worries.
When the days slipped by, and whatever it was that made Chikusa's eyes go flat and dark when he looked at her didn't materialize, he began to relax again, and even tolerate it (however grudgingly) when she touched Ken. Out of deference to his feelings, Chrome did her best to keep those occasions confined to the times when he was out of the apartment.
It was a good plan, except for the way it relied on his keeping to a normal schedule. Chikusa was anything but obliging in that area, as she discovered.
Ken was holding her against the wall, hands cupped under her and holding her in place as he rocked into her. Chrome had wrapped her legs around his waist and was pressing her fingers into his shoulders, coaxing him on and reveling in the easy strength and wildness of him, basking in the pleasure as each thrust drove her up the wall, and Mukuro-sama's lazy approval at the back of her mind, watching them.
Chikusa came in just as Chrome arched against Ken, crying out as heat tightened around her. Ken groaned against her throat, hips jerking against hers, fast and ragged, bucking against Chrome as she caught her breath and stared at Chikusa over his shoulder.
She expected him to turn and go back out again, or perhaps to say something sharp and then go back out. Instead he stood there, eyes dark, watching them.
Mukuro-sama made a thoughtful sound. Now, he said, with a gentle prodding. Go to him.
Are you sure about this? she asked, as Ken let out a shaky breath and eased her to her feet again.
Mukuro-sama's prodding turned more insistent, especially as Ken realized that Chikusa was watching and started towards him.
"Ken," Chrome said, softly, and he stopped, looking back and forth between her and Chikusa.
Something moved over Chikusa's face, almost too fast to identify, and that decided her as Mukuro-sama's prodding became urgent. "Chikusa," she said, just as softly, and went to him.
He held still, which was more than she'd really expected him to do. Mukuro-sama, help me here, she whispered.
Like this, he murmured, and showed her how to coax Chikusa to bend his head just a bit, so she could kiss him. Chikusa's mouth was unresponsive under hers, at first. Show him, Mukuro-sama told her, warm and encouraging at her back.
Chrome did what she could, slipping her fingers into Chikusa's hair and kissing him again and again, stroking her mouth against his. She wasn't sure it was going to work, given how still he was holding himself; it felt like kissing a statue. She leaned against him anyway, determined to show him whether he was going to pay attention or not. "Chikusa," she said, against his mouth, setting a hand over his heart.
The resistance ran out of him all at once like water, and his mouth softened under hers. Mukuro-sama made a pleased sound and settled back. Chikusa brought a hand up and flattened it against her back, and she heard Ken's sigh of relief behind her.
Chrome twined her arms around Chikusa's shoulders, leaning into him, feeling the long lines of him against her bare skin, and kissed him again, open and slow and offering. The sound he made in reply was one part resigned and perhaps two parts willing. That was good enough to go on, for now.
She pressed against him more insistently, tempting him with the kind of slow kisses she knew he liked when Mukuro-sama took him to bed, and felt him begin to respond. That was good. The way he shivered when she ran a hand down between them to cup over the front of his jeans was even better, and so was the way he let her knead him through the denim.
You're going to do it that way? Mukuro-sama asked, tone curious, when she slid down to crouch on her heels.
The sound Chikusa made as she undid his fly and drew him out was like a strangled moan. He moaned again, outright, as Chrome curled her fingers around him, stroking him hard.
Would you suggest something else? she asked Mukuro-sama, leaning forward to stroke her tongue over the head of Chikusa's cock, hesitating a bit over the first flat taste of him.
It's more ambitious than I would have chosen for my first blowjob.
That was part of the point, but she suspected he was well aware of that.
Chikusa moaned above her again as she closed her mouth around him and sucked, trying to get used to the fullness of his cock on her tongue. When she glanced up at him, Chikusa was looking back, eyes dark and face flushed.
I would do this, Mukuro-sama said, clinical, and showed her how to stroke her mouth over him. When that made Chikusa groan and his hips jerked forward, he added, And then do this, as he showed her how to move with the rocking of Chikusa's hips. And now this, he said, when Chikusa's hand came down to curve around the back of her head, holding her still as his cock slid deeper.
Good advice, Chrome said, a little distracted by the slow movement of Chikusa's hips, fucking her mouth, and the way her stomach was tightening in response.
She hadn't expected to like this--it was supposed to have been purely for Chikusa's sake--but as he relaxed over her, making soft, pleased sounds, heat pooled low in her stomach again. Chrome set a hand on Chikusa's hip to steady herself, and dipped the other between her own legs. Pleasure twined through her and she moaned, fingers stroking faster.
Chikusa shuddered above her, voice catching on something that might have even been her name, and snapped taut.
Mukuro-sama offered another bit of wordless advice that was tinged with laughter, and when Chikusa let go of her, Chrome rocked back on her heels, gasping. Chikusa looked down at her silently, eyes dark and unreadable, before dropping to his knees. "Chikusa..." she began, and was surprised by the huskiness of her own voice.
"Shut up," he said, and ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, displacing her fingers.
She cried out from the surprise of it, and again when his fingers stroked up into her, thrusting hard, and caught at his shoulder as she rocked against him, grinding against the palm of his hand. His face next to hers was as intent as the quick movements of his fingers. The unexpectedness of it all brought the heat rushing down on her fast and fierce, and left her leaning against him, gasping for breath.
He made a sound that was almost disgruntled, but he didn't move away from her.
Behind them, Ken's whistle was low and impressed. "Damn," he said, "dinner and a show."
"Don't be vulgar," Chikusa snapped.
"Please," Ken drawled, and came over to drape himself against Chikusa's side. "You know better'n that, Kakipi." He reached over and ruffled Chrome's hair. "Not bad for your first time."
"Mukuro-sama helped," she murmured, as Chikusa went a different kind of still against her.
Even though she had her lashes lowered, she didn't miss the way Chikusa's eyes changed, or the way some little tension relaxed itself from his shoulders. He made a harrumphing sort of sound.
Both she and Ken were very careful not to say anything about it when Chikusa curled an arm around her shoulder.
Chikusa remained the one who was difficult to handle, wary as a dog who'd been kicked too many times and prone to taking insult even when none was offered.
That was okay, Chrome decided, because he'd stopped looking at her like she was an interloper, even when he'd seen her twined around Ken. Sometimes he'd even let her touch him instead, though that was rare.
Does he not like girls? she asked Mukuro-sama one afternoon, when Chikusa had deflected her offer to let him take her, and then asked for Mukuro-sama immediately after.
Mukuro-sama smoothed his hands over Chikusa's upturned ass, spreading him open and circling a thumb over his entrance. Perhaps not as such, he mused, as Chikusa jerked against the pillows, voice catching as Mukuro-sama's thumb sank into him. It would explain things, wouldn't it?
Some things, she agreed, and thought more about it as Mukuro-sama worked Chikusa's ass slowly. A possible solution presented itself to her as Mukuro-sama slid his slick fingers into Chikusa. Maybe I should offer to take him instead?
Mukuro-sama actually twitched, like he was genuinely surprised; Chikusa shuddered under his hand. My little Chrome is growing up, he said, finally, and his mental voice was full of laughter. You may want to pay attention to this next part.
I always pay attention, she told him as he crooked his fingers, pressing them against Chikusa's prostate and rubbing firmly.
Yes, he murmured, tone a little distant, as Chikusa moaned, full-throated, you do, don't you?
She made a noncommittal noise in reply, because that was a silly sort of question for him to ask her. It's good to pay attention to what people want, she said instead. That reminded her of something; to distract him, she asked, Do you think he would rather I used my fingers? Or--they make things, right?
Fortunately, Chikusa was so far gone that he didn't even seem to notice the way Mukuro-sama broke into laughter at that.
That was fine by Chrome; if Mukuro-sama thought the idea of her taking Chikusa with--she wrinkled her nose at the image that was drifting off Mukuro-sama; neon purple? really?--a sex toy was funny, then he probably wasn't paying attention to her decision to figure out what it was that Mukuro-sama wanted.
She enlisted Ken's help, because-after he'd finished clutching his stomach and laughing-his eyes had turned hot and speculative at the thought, and he'd been more than willing to let her experiment with him. Mukuro-sama had observed as well, offering the occasional bit of advice regarding technique in between coughing fits that sounded remarkably like stifled laughter.
In between her sessions with Ken, Chrome pondered the enigma of Mukuro-sama. If he wanted for them to be happy, then he ought to have what he wanted, and if what he wanted was for them to want each other... they were working on that. They were getting there.
It had to be something else, something that she was missing, or that Mukuro-sama was keeping tucked away where she couldn't see it.
She'd figure it out, sooner or later, though, she decided, and tucked it away for later consideration. Just now she had more immediate things to worry about.
It's a pity we don't have a camera set up, Mukuro-sama observed as she opened the door to the boys' room and slipped inside quietly (although there wasn't all that much call for quiet; Ken was wrapped around Chikusa and had him well and truly distracted). I think Chikusa's face is going to be one to record for posterity.
You have a low sense of humor, Mukuro-sama, she returned, and stole over to the bed. Ken was arched under Chikusa, one leg wrapped around Chikusa's hip as he rocked up against him. He saw her, and threaded his hand into Chikusa's hair and tugged him into a kiss. Chrome took a breath and slid onto the bed with them, and stroked her hands down the line of Chikusa's spine. She curved them over his ass and squeezed the tight muscle of it.
Chikusa moaned against Ken's mouth, and again as she stroked her fingers down the cleft of his ass, slicking them with illusion and pressing them against his entrance. "Mukuro-sama," he breathed, arching against Ken, who groaned as that drove their hips together.
Chrome leaned against him, sliding her fingers into him as she let him feel the softness of her breasts against his back. "No," she said, against his ear, fingers stroking deeper. "It's me."
Chikusa made a sound that was hoarse with shock and something else, hot and wanting. "Chrome?" he managed, and gasped as she twisted her fingers.
"Mm," she said, and kissed the spot under his ear. He arched again, moaning, and Ken grinned at her, eyes dancing, giving her a thumbs-up. Chrome smiled back at him, and used her knees to spread Chikusa further open as she called on illusion again. "I have you," she told him, settling her hands on his hips to hold him.
He made another of those shocked sounds as the blunt head of the dildo slid into him, body flexing under her hands, and she almost stopped then, worried that this wasn't what he wanted after all. No, Mukuro-sama said, softly, go on. It's okay. Listen to him.
Chikusa was shuddering, little gasping cries working out of his throat as Ken's hands smoothed up and down his back, and he moaned again as Chrome sank all the way into him. Chrome smoothed her fingers over the sharp blades of his hipbones and rocked against him again, more firmly, driving him down against Ken, and savored the sounds they made together. It was all right after all.
Ken gathered Chikusa closer, holding him and rolling their hips together steadily. Chrome drove her hips against him, deep and careful and relentless, until Chikusa cried out, voice gone thready, and came undone between them. Ken gasped at that, hips lifting against Chikusa's, quick and urgent until Chrome slid a hand between them and wrapped around him, helping him the rest of the way over the edge.
"That went well," she said, when Ken had helped her to arrange Chikusa between them.
Chikusa stirred a little from where he'd tucked his face against Ken's shoulder. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, muffled.
Chrome decided it wasn't worth telling him he didn't sound half as angry as he probably wanted to; while she hesitated, Ken pounced on the opening. "That was awesome," he pronounced, in tones of deep satisfaction.
Chikusa twitched, and Chrome stifled the giggle that wanted to escape; in the privacy of her head, Mukuro-sama gave vent to a proper laugh. "Did you enjoy it?" she asked, and ran her fingers over the nape of Chikusa's neck.
That roused him enough that she caught a glimpse of one baleful eye. "It wasn't horrible," he admitted, finally. He made a brief gesture. "Did you-?"
"Don't worry about that," she told him, smiling. "This wasn't for me. It was for you."
"So?" he said, impatient. "I'm not the only one involved, am I?"
"No," she said, surprised-there was something about that which made her attention sit up and take notice. "I suppose you're not."
"Then stop being stupid. You're part of this, too," Chikusa said, and shifted away from Ken to run a purposeful hand down her side.
"Oh," Chrome said, getting it, and smiled at him. "Oh, yes, of course."
And if the boys and Mukuro-sama thought that was because of the way Chikusa's fingers were playing against her, well, that was okay, too.
She had to wait a little while to test out her epiphany when a sudden spate of mafia business required her to attend to her duties as Sawada-san's Mist Guardian. For a handful of weeks Chrome (and by extension, Mukuro-sama) barely had time to eat hasty meals and to catch a few minutes' sleep at a time between running battles with a trio of mafia Families who apparently didn't like the looks of the Vongola's chosen heir. When it was over-after Sawada had demonstrated his strength again, in a way that made Mukuro-sama quietly thoughtful-Chrome sustained just enough presence of mind to stagger homewards and plant herself in her bed to sleep for fourteen hours straight.
The boys let her be, absenting themselves from the apartment for the handful of days it took her to recover. She would have thought that they'd stayed away the whole time, except that every time she emerged from her bedroom to forage for food, there were fresh boxes of leftover takeout in the refrigerator. That was Chikusa's touch, she decided; Ken seemed to think that food descended from the heavens like manna.
By the fifth day, she felt more like herself again, and was curled on the couch when they came slinking in, quiet and careful. Ken cheered right up when he saw her sitting there. "Hah, I thought you were going to sleep forever," he said.
Chrome put her book aside and stretched. "I thought about it." Mukuro-sama, she added, when she looked past Ken to Chikusa's expression.
I see. He laughed and stretched himself out. By the time she came to her feet, he'd taken control and wrapped her body in his illusion.
The boys practically mobbed him; he let them and gathered them close. "It's been a long month, hasn't it?" he noted, against Ken's hair. Chikusa made a sound, soft and wanting, and Mukuro-sama chuckled softly. "Come to bed," he told them. "Let's get reacquainted."
Chrome never got tired of the way Mukuro-sama casually rearranged reality to suit himself; rather than deal with shuffling Ken and Chikusa to their bedroom, he made the couch and the wall between them and the bed simply disappear. He dealt with the matter of clothing the same way as he eased them down to the sheets. "There now," he murmured to them, as Ken pressed against him, trailing kisses down his chest, and Chikusa lifted his face, asking for a kiss.
Mukuro-sama obliged him, drawing him closer and kissing him, open and deep; Chikusa moaned and draped against him, nearly boneless. Mukuro-sama hummed into his mouth, clearly pleased, and hummed again when Ken's mouth slid over his cock, open and hot.
Chrome watched, considering, as Mukuro-sama touched them and soothed them, one hand curled in Ken's hair as he fucked Ken's mouth, the other hand sliding down to rub the spot behind Chikusa's balls. What would be the best way to do it? she wondered, as Chikusa arched against Mukuro-sama, coming with a low moan. Mukuro-sama smiled at him, and then drew Ken up onto his knees, bending him over and driving into him, hard and fierce, until Ken's body wrung even tighter around him as he keened his pleasure.
The boys helped her, although they had no idea they were doing so, by drawing Mukuro-sama down between them after he'd released Ken. Mukuro-sama chuckled and let them do it, trading slow kisses with them and nearly purring as their hands wandered over him. There was nothing for it but to simply do it, Chrome decided, and gathered the feeling that her times with Mukuro and the boys had given her to her, wrapping herself in the sense of being held, the feeling of being warm and safe and wanted. She reached out to Mukuro-sama's presence, and wrapped herself and that feeling around him, and snuggled close.
He started. What are you doing? he asked, mental voice gone unusually tight.
Chrome pressed herself closer to him, the analytical part of her noting the way the illusion of his physical body was reacting to this, drawing tighter. Chikusa seemed to be taking that as encouragement, and was rubbing slick fingers over Mukuro-sama's cock. Ours, she told Mukuro-sama, as Ken nuzzled Mukuro-sama's throat. Like we're yours. Your family.
This isn't the kind of thing normal families do, he said, his mental presence vibrating against hers with tension. Honestly, Chrome-
Chikusa shifted himself to settle over Mukuro-sama's hips, sliding down onto his cock with a long, low sigh, and Ken purred, leaning over Mukuro-sama and kissing him, hot and open.
We're not normal, Chrome told him, tightening her metaphorical arms around him. We make our own rules up, remember?
Mukuro-sama shivered against her, hands coming to rest on Chikusa's hips, drawing them down to meet his as he thrust against Chikusa. I believe I was referring to the general rules of reality, he said. The dryness in his voice did nothing to distract her from the way he shifted against her, some part of him wavering. If nothing else, she had his attention.
This is our reality. Chrome wound herself around him, as gently and persuasively as she knew how to, feeling him waver again. You're our reality.
Ken kissed his way down Mukuro-sama's chest again, and closed his mouth on Chikusa's cock with an enthusiastic sound. Chikusa groaned, his head falling back as he came again, hips grinding down against Mukuro-sama's. Mukuro-sama gasped, hips jerking up against Chikusa's. The heat that she could feel drawing him taut was more immediate than she'd ever felt from him. Our family. And we're your family, she whispered to him, slow and coaxing, as Chikusa draped over him and Ken pressed closer. She wrapped herself around him, more tightly. And this is what we do for each other, because we belong to one another.
She could feel that catch Mukuro-sama, and feel him surrendering, accepting the claim. He made a sound, like a gasp, and arched up-against Chikusa, against her-and came undone, sweet fierce joy burning through him, and through Chrome too as she held him. Ours, she whispered to him again. Yours.
He laughed, soft and astonished, once the heat had released him. My cute little Chrome isn't little at all any more, he said, surprised and pleased and a little wondering. When did you become so wise?
He asked such silly questions sometimes. I watched you.
Hm, Mukuro-sama said. The world blurred again. Chrome wasn't at all surprised when it resolved into the pavilion in his world, and she found herself actually wound around him instead of metaphorically. Nor was she surprised that Ken and Chikusa were pressed against him, too, making surprised sounds at the shift.
"My own," he murmured, as Chrome arranged herself in the tangle of them.
"Yeah," Ken said, nuzzling his shoulder; Chrome saw the way Mukuro-sama's eyes brightened at that, and the way Chikusa agreed, "Yours," as he draped an arm around Chrome's shoulders, casually, like it was an accident.
"Of course," Chrome said, and smiled at the way Mukuro-sama laughed, free and easy and without any undercurrents to it at all, and gathered them all closer to him.
- end -
Comments are quite welcome!
Characters: Chrome Dokuro, Rokudou Mukuro, Joushima Ken, Kakimoto Chikusa
Summary: Sometimes it's really difficult to figure out what Mukuro-sama actually wants.
Notes: 11,602 words worth of no-holds-barred, balls-to-the-wall smut. Post TYL-arc, most of the permutations of Chrome/Mukuro/Chikusa/Ken that you can imagine and probably at least one that you weren't expecting, and did I mention the smut? Part One
~~~~~~~~~~
The question came back to her whenever things returned to the bedroom, either when he invited her into his illusion, or crossed over to the real world to take up with Ken and Chikusa. Chrome worried at the problem of it while Mukuro-sama spread Chikusa out against the bed and held him there. Mukuro-sama clearly liked what he was doing, and she could feel the surges of pleasure as he slid in and out of Chikusa, slow and deep and steady despite the way Chikusa moaned for him.
But the pleasure wasn't the end goal for him. That was evident in any of their encounters, no matter who he partnered with--he left them limp and wrung out and never came close to that edge himself.
Why do you do this for us? she asked, as he thrust into Chikusa, who groaned as that drove him deeper into Ken.
Hm? Mukuro-sama asked, as Ken reached for the headboard and braced himself against it, head falling back and throat gleaming as he groaned.
This, Chrome murmured, with a metaphorical gesture at herself and the boys as Mukuro-sama rocked into Chikusa again, and the entire bed shook. What do you get from this?
Satisfied minions, he grunted, and pointedly ignored her after that as he fucked Chikusa and Ken into an exhausted, sweaty tangle.
The thing of it was, it had the ring of truth to it, she decided, as Ken wound himself around Mukuro-sama. Part of it was true--and not the minions bit. The satisfaction part felt like it was important.
Perhaps she was going about it all wrong. Chrome cast back through her memories, thinking about Mukuro-sama's first encounter with Ken and Chikusa. He'd responded when he'd seen the want in them.
What are you thinking so hard about? he asked, as Chikusa settled a head on his shoulder.
And the first time he'd brought her to bed--it had been when she was feeling particularly alone and excluded by the boys, hadn't it?
Chrome-- he began, tone wary, when she turned to him.
You want us to be happy, she hazarded. You want to give us what we want.
Don't be ridiculous, he snorted. Do I look like that sentimental of a fool?
You do, she said, softly, convinced now, by the irritation in his tone and the way his presence had turned impervious to her curiosity. You're doing it to take care of us.
I do it so you won't be distracted by your hormones when you should be concentrating on more important things.
Chrome took a breath. I don't believe you.
Oh, go to sleep, he growled, irritated.
She had just long enough to feel the uncertainty in him before his will folded over her and dragged her down into unconsciousness.
When she woke up, Chikusa was gone, Ken's hand was on her breast, and Chrome wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that.
What was more, she could feel Mukuro-sama lurking at the back of her head, pretending disinterest in the whole thing.
Mukuro-sama, where are my clothes? she asked--well, demanded--as Ken made a sleepy noise and stretched.
Mukuro-sama remained quite pointedly silent, and Ken finished waking up.
"Mm," he said, and pressed against her, face burrowing against her throat--and perhaps that was what got his attention, that she didn't smell like Chikusa. He went still against her side, and raised his head, and said her name in a kind of frozen disbelief.
"Mukuro-sama is being strange," she said, and shrugged at him a little helplessly.
That was when he realized where his hand was, but instead of going red, his eyes turned thoughtful. "Strange," he repeated, and tipped his head to the side, looking at her. His fingers curved around her, slowly, like he was uncertain what to do with softness. "Good strange or bad strange?"
Chrome ignored the way her breath and body wanted to respond to the caress, and thought about the question and the watchful presence overseeing them. She wanted to say, I can see what you're trying to do, but didn't. Mukuro-sama made plans within plans; this probably was to distract her from the questions he didn't want to answer, but it was probably to do something else, too. "Just strange," she said, finally, and set a hand on Ken's shoulder, feeling the rangy strength of him with her own fingers.
He snorted. "It's Mukuro-sama. What do you expect?"
"Good point," she agreed, and let him kiss her, not really surprised at all that he would accept this as easily as that. Ken was the uncomplicated one, the one who let things be what they were. It was no wonder Mukuro-sama had chosen him first.
She wasn't surprised that Ken had no idea what to do with a girl, either, and sighed, a little exasperated, when his hands turned too rough on her. "No," she said, and caught his hands. "Not like that. Like this."
He looked relieved at that, and let her guide his hands over her body, showing him how to stroke her so that heat wound through her. Chrome considered that relief, and took his shoulders when his hips began to rock against hers with an urgency that made her feel obscurely satisfied. "Lay back for me," she told him.
The way he did, without question, was gratifying, and so was the expression on his face--surprise, pleasure--as she knelt over his hips and lowered herself onto him. Chrome showed him how to hold her, and he caught the trick of moving with her almost immediately.
He really likes this, she said, kneading her hands over Ken's chest, moaning with the heat of his thrusts, hard and deep, and the pleasure that skittered through her.
She hadn't expected a reply, but she got the sense of Mukuro-sama lifting a shoulder, careless. It's Ken, he said, dry as dust. What do you expect?
Chrome couldn't help laughing, even as she took Ken's hand and showed him where to touch her, and she came undone with that laughter on her lips.
For good or ill, Chikusa wasn't nearly as easy to deal with. He took one look at Ken and Chrome when he got home, turned sharply on his heel, and left again, all without saying anything. Ken went after him; neither of them came home that night.
Chrome wanted to ask Mukuro-sama what he thought, and whether it would be okay, but he had withdrawn and wouldn't respond to her questions.
She wasn't sure which one of them was more relieved the next morning when the key turned in the lock. Chikusa came in with Ken skulking after him, both of them rumpled and with circles under their eyes and Ken with a series of bruises running down his throat and under his collar. It was hard to say; she'd already begun turning away from the sink, hands dripping with suds, when they came in. By the time she'd taken half a step, she'd ceded control to Mukuro-sama, and it was Mukuro-sama who folded his arms around Chikusa when Chikusa came to them.
"Shh, my own," he said against Chikusa's hair, as Chikusa wound his fists in Mukuro-sama's shirt and shook, silently. "I have you."
Chrome was the one who heard the unspoken corollary: I won't let you go.
But perhaps Chikusa heard it through Mukuro-sama's hands, when Mukuro-sama guided him into the bedroom and onto the bed, and in the way Mukuro-sama touched him, spread him out and bound him down with a set of soft scarves. Mukuro-sama took him like that, driving him over the edge of pleasure once, and then again, moving over him and in him relentlessly, until Chikusa was shivering and limp beneath him. Through it all, Ken stayed close, and for once, his eyes were all for Chikusa, and when he reached out to touch, it was to stroke his hands over Chikusa, carding his hair back from his face and stroking his shoulders.
"My own," Mukuro-sama told him again, after Chikusa's gasping cries had eased into silence.
Chikusa turned his face into the palm that cradled his cheek. His voice was hoarse when he whispered, "Mukuro-sama."
"Don't fret yourself so," Mukuro-sama told him. "It will be well."
Chrome started; that was what Mukuro-sama had told her, too, when this was all beginning to unfold.
Chikusa sighed and pressed his lips to Mukuro-sama's palm. "Yes," he said softly.
Mukuro-sama took the weight of that trust easily, and gathered him up, holding him and stroking his back. Chikusa unwound against him, slipping into sleep so easily that Chrome wondered whether Mukuro-sama had cheated, or whether it was that Chikusa simply hadn't slept the night before.
Ken crept closer, and Mukuro-sama folded an arm around him, too. "I have to go soon," he said, presently.
Ken made a sound, acknowledging the point, and let Mukuro-sama ease Chikusa into his arms. "He understands now," Ken said, not looking up as he settled Chikusa's head against his shoulder. "But you scared him."
Mukuro-sama's hands stilled on Chikusa's hair. "I see that now," he said, finally. "That was a miscalculation."
From Mukuro-sama, that was as good as an apology. Ken's eyes cleared. "Shit happens," he said, and caught Mukuro-sama's hand before he could go.
Mukuro-sama smiled, and leaned over to press his lips against Ken's forehead briefly. Then he slipped away, leaving Chrome behind.
Ken made a surprised sound, and caught her before she could overbalance. "Does it ever bother you when he does that?" he asked, easing her down against his side.
"Only when he doesn't leave me any clothes," Chrome said, which was, thankfully, not the case this time. Ken snorted. Chikusa's face was slack in sleep, the lines that had been etched around his mouth when he'd first come in eased away. She reached out and touched his cheek, delicately. "Will he be okay?"
"Oh, yeah," Ken said. "He's a tough bastard. You'll see."
Chrome leaned against him. One way or another, she supposed she would.
Ken's assurance notwithstanding, it still took Chikusa a while to relax. The way he looked at Chrome--whether he thought she was looking back or not--reminded her of the expression he'd worn when they'd first met, when she'd been the interloper who'd stood between Chikusa and Mukuro-sama and had threatened to displace him completely.
Now he looked at her like that again, despite everything, and Mukuro-sama was no help.
Give him time, he said, when Chikusa had given her a look of disgust upon catching her leaning against Ken. (That hadn't been particularly fair of Chikusa, she thought; it wasn't like they'd even been doing anything. Ken had been napping, for pity's sake, and she'd been reading!) And Give him time, he said, when Chikusa found reasons to drag Ken out to do things that left Ken dazed and grinning rather stupidly whenever they came back in.
And Give him time, he said, whenever Chikusa's first response to knowing that Ken and Chrome had been together was to pin Ken to the nearest flat surface and fuck him till he screamed.
Just how much time do you think he needs? Chrome asked him, finally, a little tired of being the patient one.
It's hard to say, with the ones like him. She got the sense that Mukuro-sama was shaking his head. Never mind him for now, he said, and drew her into his illusion. "Trust me," he murmured against her throat. Chrome surrendered and let him distract her from her worries.
When the days slipped by, and whatever it was that made Chikusa's eyes go flat and dark when he looked at her didn't materialize, he began to relax again, and even tolerate it (however grudgingly) when she touched Ken. Out of deference to his feelings, Chrome did her best to keep those occasions confined to the times when he was out of the apartment.
It was a good plan, except for the way it relied on his keeping to a normal schedule. Chikusa was anything but obliging in that area, as she discovered.
Ken was holding her against the wall, hands cupped under her and holding her in place as he rocked into her. Chrome had wrapped her legs around his waist and was pressing her fingers into his shoulders, coaxing him on and reveling in the easy strength and wildness of him, basking in the pleasure as each thrust drove her up the wall, and Mukuro-sama's lazy approval at the back of her mind, watching them.
Chikusa came in just as Chrome arched against Ken, crying out as heat tightened around her. Ken groaned against her throat, hips jerking against hers, fast and ragged, bucking against Chrome as she caught her breath and stared at Chikusa over his shoulder.
She expected him to turn and go back out again, or perhaps to say something sharp and then go back out. Instead he stood there, eyes dark, watching them.
Mukuro-sama made a thoughtful sound. Now, he said, with a gentle prodding. Go to him.
Are you sure about this? she asked, as Ken let out a shaky breath and eased her to her feet again.
Mukuro-sama's prodding turned more insistent, especially as Ken realized that Chikusa was watching and started towards him.
"Ken," Chrome said, softly, and he stopped, looking back and forth between her and Chikusa.
Something moved over Chikusa's face, almost too fast to identify, and that decided her as Mukuro-sama's prodding became urgent. "Chikusa," she said, just as softly, and went to him.
He held still, which was more than she'd really expected him to do. Mukuro-sama, help me here, she whispered.
Like this, he murmured, and showed her how to coax Chikusa to bend his head just a bit, so she could kiss him. Chikusa's mouth was unresponsive under hers, at first. Show him, Mukuro-sama told her, warm and encouraging at her back.
Chrome did what she could, slipping her fingers into Chikusa's hair and kissing him again and again, stroking her mouth against his. She wasn't sure it was going to work, given how still he was holding himself; it felt like kissing a statue. She leaned against him anyway, determined to show him whether he was going to pay attention or not. "Chikusa," she said, against his mouth, setting a hand over his heart.
The resistance ran out of him all at once like water, and his mouth softened under hers. Mukuro-sama made a pleased sound and settled back. Chikusa brought a hand up and flattened it against her back, and she heard Ken's sigh of relief behind her.
Chrome twined her arms around Chikusa's shoulders, leaning into him, feeling the long lines of him against her bare skin, and kissed him again, open and slow and offering. The sound he made in reply was one part resigned and perhaps two parts willing. That was good enough to go on, for now.
She pressed against him more insistently, tempting him with the kind of slow kisses she knew he liked when Mukuro-sama took him to bed, and felt him begin to respond. That was good. The way he shivered when she ran a hand down between them to cup over the front of his jeans was even better, and so was the way he let her knead him through the denim.
You're going to do it that way? Mukuro-sama asked, tone curious, when she slid down to crouch on her heels.
The sound Chikusa made as she undid his fly and drew him out was like a strangled moan. He moaned again, outright, as Chrome curled her fingers around him, stroking him hard.
Would you suggest something else? she asked Mukuro-sama, leaning forward to stroke her tongue over the head of Chikusa's cock, hesitating a bit over the first flat taste of him.
It's more ambitious than I would have chosen for my first blowjob.
That was part of the point, but she suspected he was well aware of that.
Chikusa moaned above her again as she closed her mouth around him and sucked, trying to get used to the fullness of his cock on her tongue. When she glanced up at him, Chikusa was looking back, eyes dark and face flushed.
I would do this, Mukuro-sama said, clinical, and showed her how to stroke her mouth over him. When that made Chikusa groan and his hips jerked forward, he added, And then do this, as he showed her how to move with the rocking of Chikusa's hips. And now this, he said, when Chikusa's hand came down to curve around the back of her head, holding her still as his cock slid deeper.
Good advice, Chrome said, a little distracted by the slow movement of Chikusa's hips, fucking her mouth, and the way her stomach was tightening in response.
She hadn't expected to like this--it was supposed to have been purely for Chikusa's sake--but as he relaxed over her, making soft, pleased sounds, heat pooled low in her stomach again. Chrome set a hand on Chikusa's hip to steady herself, and dipped the other between her own legs. Pleasure twined through her and she moaned, fingers stroking faster.
Chikusa shuddered above her, voice catching on something that might have even been her name, and snapped taut.
Mukuro-sama offered another bit of wordless advice that was tinged with laughter, and when Chikusa let go of her, Chrome rocked back on her heels, gasping. Chikusa looked down at her silently, eyes dark and unreadable, before dropping to his knees. "Chikusa..." she began, and was surprised by the huskiness of her own voice.
"Shut up," he said, and ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, displacing her fingers.
She cried out from the surprise of it, and again when his fingers stroked up into her, thrusting hard, and caught at his shoulder as she rocked against him, grinding against the palm of his hand. His face next to hers was as intent as the quick movements of his fingers. The unexpectedness of it all brought the heat rushing down on her fast and fierce, and left her leaning against him, gasping for breath.
He made a sound that was almost disgruntled, but he didn't move away from her.
Behind them, Ken's whistle was low and impressed. "Damn," he said, "dinner and a show."
"Don't be vulgar," Chikusa snapped.
"Please," Ken drawled, and came over to drape himself against Chikusa's side. "You know better'n that, Kakipi." He reached over and ruffled Chrome's hair. "Not bad for your first time."
"Mukuro-sama helped," she murmured, as Chikusa went a different kind of still against her.
Even though she had her lashes lowered, she didn't miss the way Chikusa's eyes changed, or the way some little tension relaxed itself from his shoulders. He made a harrumphing sort of sound.
Both she and Ken were very careful not to say anything about it when Chikusa curled an arm around her shoulder.
Chikusa remained the one who was difficult to handle, wary as a dog who'd been kicked too many times and prone to taking insult even when none was offered.
That was okay, Chrome decided, because he'd stopped looking at her like she was an interloper, even when he'd seen her twined around Ken. Sometimes he'd even let her touch him instead, though that was rare.
Does he not like girls? she asked Mukuro-sama one afternoon, when Chikusa had deflected her offer to let him take her, and then asked for Mukuro-sama immediately after.
Mukuro-sama smoothed his hands over Chikusa's upturned ass, spreading him open and circling a thumb over his entrance. Perhaps not as such, he mused, as Chikusa jerked against the pillows, voice catching as Mukuro-sama's thumb sank into him. It would explain things, wouldn't it?
Some things, she agreed, and thought more about it as Mukuro-sama worked Chikusa's ass slowly. A possible solution presented itself to her as Mukuro-sama slid his slick fingers into Chikusa. Maybe I should offer to take him instead?
Mukuro-sama actually twitched, like he was genuinely surprised; Chikusa shuddered under his hand. My little Chrome is growing up, he said, finally, and his mental voice was full of laughter. You may want to pay attention to this next part.
I always pay attention, she told him as he crooked his fingers, pressing them against Chikusa's prostate and rubbing firmly.
Yes, he murmured, tone a little distant, as Chikusa moaned, full-throated, you do, don't you?
She made a noncommittal noise in reply, because that was a silly sort of question for him to ask her. It's good to pay attention to what people want, she said instead. That reminded her of something; to distract him, she asked, Do you think he would rather I used my fingers? Or--they make things, right?
Fortunately, Chikusa was so far gone that he didn't even seem to notice the way Mukuro-sama broke into laughter at that.
That was fine by Chrome; if Mukuro-sama thought the idea of her taking Chikusa with--she wrinkled her nose at the image that was drifting off Mukuro-sama; neon purple? really?--a sex toy was funny, then he probably wasn't paying attention to her decision to figure out what it was that Mukuro-sama wanted.
She enlisted Ken's help, because-after he'd finished clutching his stomach and laughing-his eyes had turned hot and speculative at the thought, and he'd been more than willing to let her experiment with him. Mukuro-sama had observed as well, offering the occasional bit of advice regarding technique in between coughing fits that sounded remarkably like stifled laughter.
In between her sessions with Ken, Chrome pondered the enigma of Mukuro-sama. If he wanted for them to be happy, then he ought to have what he wanted, and if what he wanted was for them to want each other... they were working on that. They were getting there.
It had to be something else, something that she was missing, or that Mukuro-sama was keeping tucked away where she couldn't see it.
She'd figure it out, sooner or later, though, she decided, and tucked it away for later consideration. Just now she had more immediate things to worry about.
It's a pity we don't have a camera set up, Mukuro-sama observed as she opened the door to the boys' room and slipped inside quietly (although there wasn't all that much call for quiet; Ken was wrapped around Chikusa and had him well and truly distracted). I think Chikusa's face is going to be one to record for posterity.
You have a low sense of humor, Mukuro-sama, she returned, and stole over to the bed. Ken was arched under Chikusa, one leg wrapped around Chikusa's hip as he rocked up against him. He saw her, and threaded his hand into Chikusa's hair and tugged him into a kiss. Chrome took a breath and slid onto the bed with them, and stroked her hands down the line of Chikusa's spine. She curved them over his ass and squeezed the tight muscle of it.
Chikusa moaned against Ken's mouth, and again as she stroked her fingers down the cleft of his ass, slicking them with illusion and pressing them against his entrance. "Mukuro-sama," he breathed, arching against Ken, who groaned as that drove their hips together.
Chrome leaned against him, sliding her fingers into him as she let him feel the softness of her breasts against his back. "No," she said, against his ear, fingers stroking deeper. "It's me."
Chikusa made a sound that was hoarse with shock and something else, hot and wanting. "Chrome?" he managed, and gasped as she twisted her fingers.
"Mm," she said, and kissed the spot under his ear. He arched again, moaning, and Ken grinned at her, eyes dancing, giving her a thumbs-up. Chrome smiled back at him, and used her knees to spread Chikusa further open as she called on illusion again. "I have you," she told him, settling her hands on his hips to hold him.
He made another of those shocked sounds as the blunt head of the dildo slid into him, body flexing under her hands, and she almost stopped then, worried that this wasn't what he wanted after all. No, Mukuro-sama said, softly, go on. It's okay. Listen to him.
Chikusa was shuddering, little gasping cries working out of his throat as Ken's hands smoothed up and down his back, and he moaned again as Chrome sank all the way into him. Chrome smoothed her fingers over the sharp blades of his hipbones and rocked against him again, more firmly, driving him down against Ken, and savored the sounds they made together. It was all right after all.
Ken gathered Chikusa closer, holding him and rolling their hips together steadily. Chrome drove her hips against him, deep and careful and relentless, until Chikusa cried out, voice gone thready, and came undone between them. Ken gasped at that, hips lifting against Chikusa's, quick and urgent until Chrome slid a hand between them and wrapped around him, helping him the rest of the way over the edge.
"That went well," she said, when Ken had helped her to arrange Chikusa between them.
Chikusa stirred a little from where he'd tucked his face against Ken's shoulder. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, muffled.
Chrome decided it wasn't worth telling him he didn't sound half as angry as he probably wanted to; while she hesitated, Ken pounced on the opening. "That was awesome," he pronounced, in tones of deep satisfaction.
Chikusa twitched, and Chrome stifled the giggle that wanted to escape; in the privacy of her head, Mukuro-sama gave vent to a proper laugh. "Did you enjoy it?" she asked, and ran her fingers over the nape of Chikusa's neck.
That roused him enough that she caught a glimpse of one baleful eye. "It wasn't horrible," he admitted, finally. He made a brief gesture. "Did you-?"
"Don't worry about that," she told him, smiling. "This wasn't for me. It was for you."
"So?" he said, impatient. "I'm not the only one involved, am I?"
"No," she said, surprised-there was something about that which made her attention sit up and take notice. "I suppose you're not."
"Then stop being stupid. You're part of this, too," Chikusa said, and shifted away from Ken to run a purposeful hand down her side.
"Oh," Chrome said, getting it, and smiled at him. "Oh, yes, of course."
And if the boys and Mukuro-sama thought that was because of the way Chikusa's fingers were playing against her, well, that was okay, too.
She had to wait a little while to test out her epiphany when a sudden spate of mafia business required her to attend to her duties as Sawada-san's Mist Guardian. For a handful of weeks Chrome (and by extension, Mukuro-sama) barely had time to eat hasty meals and to catch a few minutes' sleep at a time between running battles with a trio of mafia Families who apparently didn't like the looks of the Vongola's chosen heir. When it was over-after Sawada had demonstrated his strength again, in a way that made Mukuro-sama quietly thoughtful-Chrome sustained just enough presence of mind to stagger homewards and plant herself in her bed to sleep for fourteen hours straight.
The boys let her be, absenting themselves from the apartment for the handful of days it took her to recover. She would have thought that they'd stayed away the whole time, except that every time she emerged from her bedroom to forage for food, there were fresh boxes of leftover takeout in the refrigerator. That was Chikusa's touch, she decided; Ken seemed to think that food descended from the heavens like manna.
By the fifth day, she felt more like herself again, and was curled on the couch when they came slinking in, quiet and careful. Ken cheered right up when he saw her sitting there. "Hah, I thought you were going to sleep forever," he said.
Chrome put her book aside and stretched. "I thought about it." Mukuro-sama, she added, when she looked past Ken to Chikusa's expression.
I see. He laughed and stretched himself out. By the time she came to her feet, he'd taken control and wrapped her body in his illusion.
The boys practically mobbed him; he let them and gathered them close. "It's been a long month, hasn't it?" he noted, against Ken's hair. Chikusa made a sound, soft and wanting, and Mukuro-sama chuckled softly. "Come to bed," he told them. "Let's get reacquainted."
Chrome never got tired of the way Mukuro-sama casually rearranged reality to suit himself; rather than deal with shuffling Ken and Chikusa to their bedroom, he made the couch and the wall between them and the bed simply disappear. He dealt with the matter of clothing the same way as he eased them down to the sheets. "There now," he murmured to them, as Ken pressed against him, trailing kisses down his chest, and Chikusa lifted his face, asking for a kiss.
Mukuro-sama obliged him, drawing him closer and kissing him, open and deep; Chikusa moaned and draped against him, nearly boneless. Mukuro-sama hummed into his mouth, clearly pleased, and hummed again when Ken's mouth slid over his cock, open and hot.
Chrome watched, considering, as Mukuro-sama touched them and soothed them, one hand curled in Ken's hair as he fucked Ken's mouth, the other hand sliding down to rub the spot behind Chikusa's balls. What would be the best way to do it? she wondered, as Chikusa arched against Mukuro-sama, coming with a low moan. Mukuro-sama smiled at him, and then drew Ken up onto his knees, bending him over and driving into him, hard and fierce, until Ken's body wrung even tighter around him as he keened his pleasure.
The boys helped her, although they had no idea they were doing so, by drawing Mukuro-sama down between them after he'd released Ken. Mukuro-sama chuckled and let them do it, trading slow kisses with them and nearly purring as their hands wandered over him. There was nothing for it but to simply do it, Chrome decided, and gathered the feeling that her times with Mukuro and the boys had given her to her, wrapping herself in the sense of being held, the feeling of being warm and safe and wanted. She reached out to Mukuro-sama's presence, and wrapped herself and that feeling around him, and snuggled close.
He started. What are you doing? he asked, mental voice gone unusually tight.
Chrome pressed herself closer to him, the analytical part of her noting the way the illusion of his physical body was reacting to this, drawing tighter. Chikusa seemed to be taking that as encouragement, and was rubbing slick fingers over Mukuro-sama's cock. Ours, she told Mukuro-sama, as Ken nuzzled Mukuro-sama's throat. Like we're yours. Your family.
This isn't the kind of thing normal families do, he said, his mental presence vibrating against hers with tension. Honestly, Chrome-
Chikusa shifted himself to settle over Mukuro-sama's hips, sliding down onto his cock with a long, low sigh, and Ken purred, leaning over Mukuro-sama and kissing him, hot and open.
We're not normal, Chrome told him, tightening her metaphorical arms around him. We make our own rules up, remember?
Mukuro-sama shivered against her, hands coming to rest on Chikusa's hips, drawing them down to meet his as he thrust against Chikusa. I believe I was referring to the general rules of reality, he said. The dryness in his voice did nothing to distract her from the way he shifted against her, some part of him wavering. If nothing else, she had his attention.
This is our reality. Chrome wound herself around him, as gently and persuasively as she knew how to, feeling him waver again. You're our reality.
Ken kissed his way down Mukuro-sama's chest again, and closed his mouth on Chikusa's cock with an enthusiastic sound. Chikusa groaned, his head falling back as he came again, hips grinding down against Mukuro-sama's. Mukuro-sama gasped, hips jerking up against Chikusa's. The heat that she could feel drawing him taut was more immediate than she'd ever felt from him. Our family. And we're your family, she whispered to him, slow and coaxing, as Chikusa draped over him and Ken pressed closer. She wrapped herself around him, more tightly. And this is what we do for each other, because we belong to one another.
She could feel that catch Mukuro-sama, and feel him surrendering, accepting the claim. He made a sound, like a gasp, and arched up-against Chikusa, against her-and came undone, sweet fierce joy burning through him, and through Chrome too as she held him. Ours, she whispered to him again. Yours.
He laughed, soft and astonished, once the heat had released him. My cute little Chrome isn't little at all any more, he said, surprised and pleased and a little wondering. When did you become so wise?
He asked such silly questions sometimes. I watched you.
Hm, Mukuro-sama said. The world blurred again. Chrome wasn't at all surprised when it resolved into the pavilion in his world, and she found herself actually wound around him instead of metaphorically. Nor was she surprised that Ken and Chikusa were pressed against him, too, making surprised sounds at the shift.
"My own," he murmured, as Chrome arranged herself in the tangle of them.
"Yeah," Ken said, nuzzling his shoulder; Chrome saw the way Mukuro-sama's eyes brightened at that, and the way Chikusa agreed, "Yours," as he draped an arm around Chrome's shoulders, casually, like it was an accident.
"Of course," Chrome said, and smiled at the way Mukuro-sama laughed, free and easy and without any undercurrents to it at all, and gathered them all closer to him.
- end -
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