Chapter Text
It was Libra who always started it, despite what the others may have thought.
He was still hesitant about touching and being touched, especially after so many years where he only ever came in contact with others when wounds were involved-- healing them, dealing them, receiving them. Lon'qu could understand that; it had been much the same in his own experiences, and sometimes he still flinched when women drew just a step too near.
But Libra, for Libra it was everyone, and he was only just starting to cease flinching when Lon'qu brushed past him too closely, and so the swordsman thought it best to let Libra set the pace of their relationship. He said nothing about it, but somehow it was understood: between them, it would be Libra who always started it.
And it was Libra who softly reached out for his hand as they walked beside the convoy heading south. It was Libra who smiled and pecked Lon'qu's lips in affection, pressing their foreheads together as he laughed warmly. It was Libra who crawled into his tent one night when he'd been thrashing about in his sleep, consumed by nightmares, and comfortingly lulled them both back to sleep. It was Libra who, after that night, never moved back out.
And still was it Libra who breathlessly kissed him in the steam of the men's hot springs, tangling his fingers in the nape of Lon'qu's neck and pulling him in. His other hand gently tugged at the opening of Lon'qu's yukata, a silent request, even as his mouth parted and invited Lon'qu's tongue to enter. Lon'qu wasn't about to refuse him on either account.
He pulled the cloth covering his chest to the side, shedding it over his shoulders so that it drooped around his elbows. Anything further would require removing his hands from their perch on Libra's waist, or undoing the excessively intricate obi knot at his back, and frankly he didn't have the patience for either. Libra seemed appreciative enough, at least, from the soft noise he made in his throat and the fingers that traced the lithe muscles of Lon'qu's shoulders.
In the wake of a long (but, strangely, not horrifically difficult) battle, the others had all left to finish the changing that they'd been working on. But Libra, apparently, had other ideas, even if he was still half-clad in only pantaloons and a tunic. His tongue was vaguely wetter than usual, Lon'qu thought even as he kissed him-- sloppier, yes, but lustier, too. Libra was already hard, the proximity of their bodies doing little to conceal his arousal. Lon'qu was most definitely getting there himself as his groin filled with heat, and his cock only stiffened further as Libra pressed their hips together, frotting desperately at the hard line of Lon'qu's erection.
Lon'qu thumbed the waistband of Libra's trousers, sliding minutely down Libra's waist, careful in his restraint so as not to break his silent promise with something as insignificant as his physical desires.
"Mmmn," Libra's hips stuttered, his lips parting from Lon'qu's in a groan. "N-not yet. Please, let me-- let me try something."
Lon'qu grunted his assent, rolling his hips up against the friction of Libra's grinding. They'd gotten off like this before, writhing heatedly against each other when flushed kisses became too much to bear, hands wandering below beltlines to stroke through clothing, but if Libra wanted to "try something," then Lon'qu was more than willing for whatever it was. All of Libra's "something"s thus far had been exceedingly enjoyable for both of them.
Still, he was unprepared for when Libra's fingers trailed over his chest, down to where the obi tied his yukata together, and then dropped to his knees, pressing his face against the tented fabric there. His fingers began to part the okumi as he breathed, "May I?"
Startled though he was, Lon'qu answered (perhaps too quickly), "Yes."
Libra pushed away what felt like entirely too much fabric, the obi falling apart from the motion, and then he pushed that away, too. Libra's eyes flickered to the jut of Lon'qu's cock, the flush of its head, the curve of its shaft, the balls that hung heavily beneath. Before he truly realized what he was doing, his tongue had flickered out to the corner of his parted lips, tracing the edge. Lon'qu began to feel a bit lightheaded as Libra's hands trailed reverently up his thighs, wearing the look of a man who hungered, who desired.
"You'll tell me if you don't like it?" Libra asked, uncertainty crossing his features as his fingers stopped just short of Lon'qu's groin.
Lon'qu exhaled for a second, pressing his thumb to his own lip and then to Libra's in the mime of a kiss, "Yeah."
Libra's fingers stroked him tentatively, then, before he grew bolder and wrapped his fingers around the shaft. His other hand wandered, uncertain where to find purchase, first lightly cupping Lon'qu's balls and then thumbing the crease where hip met thigh, reminding Lon'qu not to just forcefully rut into the contact. He released a groan of aroused frustration, Libra's fingers so much lighter and more careful than when he handled himself, and yet that too felt good. There was, of course, no way he could finish like this, but the gentleness of Libra's hand on his bare flesh was plenty enough to make him desire all the more.
It had taken Libra quite a long time to learn the language in which Lon'qu spoke, half terse phrases and half guttural noises, but he felt the emotion through the vibrations of his chest more than anything. It was as sure a sign as any that he could proceed, and so he slowly pressed the tip of his tongue to the place where a thick vein pulsed beneath his cockhead, taking his first taste of another man's erection.
Lon'qu outright moaned, then, his hips giving a small, aborted jerk as he started, then attempted to prevent himself from shoving his cock against Libra's face. It had almost worked, except for where he'd painted the corner of Libra's lip with a glistening line of pre. This was, apparently, all the approval Libra needed to bolster his confidence, and he sloppily licked his way down the underside of Lon'qu's cock, offering but one or two laps against his balls before making the trip back up. Soft, pleasured noises passed his lips against Lon'qu's flesh as he licked and pressed his humid mouth upon it in alternation.
His lack of experience was evident, even Lon'qu (with his own extremely limited experience) knew that much, but he frankly didn't give a damn. Libra's mouth was still the best thing that had ever been on his cock, and it only became more intense as Libra took the cockhead into his mouth and sucked.
Another guttural sound escaped him, and Lon'qu had to fist his hands in the yukata in order to avoid doing something stupid, like grabbing Libra's cheeks or his jaw or his hair. And then Libra began to lower his head, seeing how far he could take him without gagging, holding him back with only the hand that wrapped around the rest of his cock, and a grumble of alarm was the only warning Lon'qu managed to give before he was cumming, the first glob catching Libra by surprise as he pulled away, still dripping from his mouth as Lon'qu gracelessly finished against his chin.
Lon'qu sucked in a breath, rushing to wipe his release from Libra's face with his sleeve, "Sorry."
"It's fine," Libra assured him with lips that were still smeared with translucent fluid. "I was... I was merely startled."
"Sorry," Lon'qu repeated, his face burning in embarrassment as he did his best to clean away the evidence of his orgasm. "I-- you haven't--"
"No... I have," and Libra, slightly guiltily, withdrew a tacky hand from within his trousers. "Quite a bit before you did, actually... I apologize."
One last shot of arousal shuddered in Lon'qu's spine, and he carefully helped Libra to his feet, "Don't. That's good."
"We should probably go clean ourselves up," Libra sighed, tilting in Lon'qu's direction like he wanted to lean against him. Lon'qu was happy to oblige, caressing Libra's cheek and guiding it to his bare shoulder. Libra's head rested there, and he smiled, "Before anyone finishes dressing."
"Most people take over half an hour to put on a yukata," Lon'qu informed him. "There's time."
"Oh..." something in Libra's voice fell, and Lon'qu desperately hoped he hadn't said something to upset him. "You did look rather good in yours. And here I was, completely undoing your hard work..."
"I'm not most people," Lon'qu assured him. There was enough similarity, he thought, between a swordmaster's robes and Bathrealms dress. It had been the only reason he'd managed to be changed at all when the earlier battle started.
"Then, perhaps," Libra breathed, the pleasant warmth of Lon'qu's shoulder and the steam making him heady. "Just a moment more?"
"Mm," Lon'qu hummed his agreement, and tilted his head to rest upon Libra's.