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“Uhh… aah…!” A strained moan fills the large, dimmed room.
Despite the sparse lighting in the room, Skysword is able to observe the other figure closely with little problem. Both his hands tightly gripped the older man’s hips, guiding it up and down against his hardened manhood vigorously. Each forceful thrust down caused the man sitting above him to gasp desperately for air and his nails to dig into Skysword’s shoulders. That flushed look on the older man’s face… along with the breathy, begging moans, and how only his upper-half could twist and turn in pleasure, only further motivated the Elder to continue his rough conquest—in order to study him in such ways and more.
For as long as he could remember, he was given a sword to wield. Every morning, he would feel the sunlight hit his forehead through the cracks of the wooden shades of the window. He would be nourished with a simple bowl of rice and small sides for breakfast before moving onto his first drill immediately after. Within the day, his masters would rotate, and he would learn from anywhere between 1-3 of his masters, depending on how long each lesson was. By the end of the day, dirt and grime would accumulate on his face, his clothes, and his long hair. Even with breaks in between to eat, rest, or wash up, the soles of his feet would still end up sore and his knuckles blistering from the 3000th swing he took that day. Before long, he would find himself passing out on the ground or his bed, and he would wake up to repeat all this again.
His masters weren’t the warmest of people, but they were the closest thing to parents he had. Although some of them were kind and some of them had sandpaper for a personality, all of them were passionately stern with their lessons. There wasn’t much commonality between his masters either, they all had vastly different temperaments, swordsmanship techniques, habits, morals, and even speech patterns. At first glance, any outsider would conclude that the only common point seemed to be their universal love for the sword. Though Han, as their communal child, knew they had one more commonality that binds them like glue together: their passionate hatred for the Elder called Yushin.
Day after day, with the days blurring into years, almost not a day had gone by without him hearing Yushin’s name, a reference to his technique, or just something about him. He was shown paintings of what the Elder looked like, his masters would demonstrate his techniques for him to see, and worse of all, they would never let him hear the end of Yushin’s habit when he goes for a kill. He would never admit it, but it was maddening, really, how obsessed they were over this one man.
Just how good could he possibly be? Is he even worth my entire life’s purpose…?
Han had thought bitterly about his pre-destined fate for many nights he laid, sometimes facing his rusty bedroom ceiling and other times facing stars that litter across the night sky. These were the nights he could feel the anger roiling at the back of his throat as his tired and sore body ached from his opponent’s blades. He may have loved swords, and he may have cared deeply for his guardians, but he did not care for this demonic Elder they called Yushin.
…But they were his masters and it was not up to him to judge the motives of the ones who so carefully and diligently raised him. All he could do to repay his debt for their care and for teaching him the ways of the sword was to be their good student and fulfill their wishes.
So, with his sense of filial piety and distaste for the Elder fueling within him, he swung and struck down each and every foe of his since childhood. The once-challenging enemies now fell with hardly any effort when he became independent. He’s heard it a thousand times over from awestruck strangers during his travels, “Han is talented”, “Oh how lucky he is to be blessed with the way of the sword!” … if only they knew of how many tens of thousands of lessons he had to grind through or hundreds of thousands of battles he had survived to get to this point… all to challenge this accursed, mythical Elder figure.
A breathless moan can be heard and it snaps the long-haired swordsman out of his thoughts. He could see Yushin unwillingly bend his upper half towards him when he crumples from the overwhelming pressure of being thrusted. The hands on his shoulders tremble as they recoil, bringing the two of them closer. Skysword releases Yushin’s right hip from his grip and uses it to push the other’s neck from behind so that the former Elder had no choice but to rest his head on the crook of Skysword’s neck.
From there, Skysword moves his hips upwards to meet Yushin’s rear harshly. His left hand is still firmly holding down onto the other’s hip, almost as if Yushin, despite his disability, could move away in the first place. The gray-haired swordsman jolts from the renewed vigor of the actions, his screams muffled in the neck of his much younger lover. He could feel his groin build up in need as it’d been unattended for quite some time now.
“…Are you close again?” Skysword mumbled the words in a slow, sultry voice right over the former Elder’s red-tinted ear. He knew he needn’t ask when he could easily see just how much buildup of pre-cum spilled over the opening of Yushin’s member… but he felt compelled to ask anyway whenever Yushin’s naturally calm and confident voice quivered unnaturally like this. Yushin droops his head, his blanket of hair partially drapes over Skysword’s shoulder blade. He keeps mum, stubbornly not wanting to dignify Skysword with a verbal response.
The white-haired man seemed very much used to it though. He takes the silence as a yes and continues onward. A hand quickly wraps around Yushin’s weeping member and slowly moves sensually along the length. Skysword could feel the other’s position stiffen from his continuous hand strokes. After what felt to be an endless number of labored breaths from Yushin, the former Elder bites down on the neck his face was already resting on. Skysword no longer winces at the blood-drawing bites like he first did, it was now an unspoken signal between the both of them that Yushin was reaching the peak of his climax.
Except the euphoric rush suddenly comes to a painful halt.
The former Elder couldn’t withhold a pained whine back when he no longer felt the hand massaging his aching, twitching groin anymore. He quickly looked up at the younger man’s face questioningly and saw that his usual, bland poker face was replaced with a perversely smug (and punchable, Yushin angrily adds) look.
“…Y…You bastard.” He nearly barks at the other, trying to steel the stutter in his voice.
“That’s not how you ask for a favor.” Skysword quips. His monotonous voice, normally deep and flat, holds a rare tone of playful amusement at Yushin’s plight.
Yushin growls, through gritted his teeth, he enunciates his words, “…For the last time, I am not going to beg, you demented br—”
Although the movements have stopped in their brief verbal exchange, Skysword does not forget that he’s still balls-deep in his lover. A few thrusts upwards, expertly targeting right at where Yushin was sensitive at, had quickly wiped away both the words and that infuriatingly defiant look from the older man’s face.
The scrunched eyes, forehead drenched in sweat, and mouth agape with drool was a much better look, if Skysword must say so himself… His hand lies on Yushin’s reddened cheek, tugging at the corner of his mouth and enjoying the warm saliva that trails down his thumb.
“We shall see about that.”
Never in all his years did he imagine he would bed his opponent like this in the first place, especially with the amount of pent-up frustration he had accumulated over the years for the former Elder, prior to clashing swords with him. He wasn’t sure exactly when, but reluctantly, the anger over time somehow evolved into an unhealthy obsession… and deep down, he knew his obsession continued to spiral the more he learned about Yushin’s swordsmanship. His thoughts about the ex-Elder echoed especially loudly during the very same, exhausting nights where he was flat on the dirty ground, and barely able to twitch as he dully stared up at the stars above.
This was something he could never mention to his masters though; they would never accept it. So, he bottled up this unsavory obsession, buried the hatchet, and focused on his masters’ goals. All was good in the world, he had convinced himself, and he was ready to face Yushin to finally put an end to this chapter of his scripted life.
Or so he had thought.
The moment he laid eyes on the much older Elder and first clashed swords with him, Han could feel the flimsy lid of the bottle that held his obsession towards the man threaten to burst. The adrenaline with fighting an opponent much stronger than himself, despite the hell he was put through in his trainee days, only further excited him more.
In fact, this was more along the lines of what he’d wanted in the first place: Here he was, a novice hunter who had purposely treaded into the deadly tiger’s territory. The tiger had proven to be an immensely difficult opponent for him; he hadn’t account himself to be unable to react fully and get hit critically like that on the first day. But he had known just enough of the tiger’s tricks, in addition his aptitude to improve mid-battle, to not get further annihilated.
Han could never forget the look on the old man’s face when he had bested him with his final strike and shattered his pride and joy into three pieces. Although he could barely catch a glimpse of the kneeling Elder’s obscured eyes, it made his chest and stomach flutter in a way he didn’t know possible. He was supposed to be a good student and have killed Yushin by the end, just how his masters had wanted, but he couldn’t find it in him to do even that. Instead, he hastily pieced together a half-truth and used the last of his breath to announce it. He’d hoped it sounded convincing enough at the time, although he’d never did find out if it was since he passed out right next to the defeated man.
Skysword looks down from his new position. He had grown bored of the position earlier while he was deeply reminiscing in his thoughts, even though it had brought him much entertainment. The man had picked up his trembling partner with ease, flipped him, and pushed his face down against the cotton sheets despite the protests. Unfortunately, those elegantly long legs of Yushin’s no longer worked like they used to, but it wasn’t much effort for Skysword to move them out of their awkward positioning from being flipped.
The new position gave him an easier time to slip back into the warm entrance and control just how hard he wanted his lover beneath to feel him. The high-quality bed squeaks loudly as Skysword moves in a quick-pace rhythm. Yushin’s nails grab at the sheets desperately, his groans are muffled in the soft pillows as his hips shake from the continuous intrusion. Soft pleas start spilling out not much longer after.
“…Ple…hngh…” Yushin’s low voice is mostly muted from the pillow.
“I can’t… hear you.” His own voice is breathy as his body envelopes Yushin’s prone one as he continues to sheathe himself over and over again, earning more incoherent grunts and whimpers from the man below him. His hands gripped the other’s hip intensely, leaving nail marks. He could feel he was once again close to the edge himself.
Yushin, who barely manages to get a grip, stays stubbornly silent once more, forcing his own face against the pillow. He bites it if he must, in order to shut himself up before he accidentally begged again… it wasn’t as if his face wasn’t already red enough from humiliation.
At least that was the plan, until he heard a loud slapping sound reverberating in the room and suddenly his ass stung. Each hard slap drew out an unwilling yelp or whine from his lips that quickly eroded his resistance. And the worst part? Skysword aimed on the same sore spot for maximum effect. The audacity of this bastard.
“…Pl…ease… ah…” Yushin sunk his face against the pillow harder to bury all the ungodly noise, but the other wasn’t about to let him get away with it.
Skysword yanks the gray locks from the base of the scalp, pulling Yushin’s head backwards to meet his. Without the pillow, the muffled cries escape loudly and the debauchery in Yushin’s voice could be heard in full force.
“Call my name.” Skysword commanded as he continued to roughly meet the abused entrance with even more vigor than when he had begun this long act with. He held Yushin’s head hostage so the former Elder can’t attempt to get away with hiding that lovely voice of his.
“……S…Skysword…” Yushin’s hands clenched at the sheets and mattress until his knuckles turned white and his toes curled ever so slightly. He could feel himself tighten involuntarily as the frequency of the thrusts increasingly hit that particular spot.
“…No. My real name…” Sky—Han mutters huskily next to that red-tinted ear again, nibbling it afterwards as he grinded his hips down hard, “Yushin.”
“…Aah, H…Han…mmf—” Yushin didn’t need to say anymore as Han demandingly locks his lips with him immediately, becoming the pillow in a sense as all the whining and moans drown in the hungry kiss.
After a brief number of harsh thrusts, Han felt Yushin tighten considerably around him as Han reached the height of his pleasure. He spilled plenty of his seed into the man beneath him, earning loud yelps from Yushin. And when he slowly withdraws himself, he could feel the other twitch and whine once more, involuntarily.
Yushin is in a similar state, Han notes as he spied a suspicious puddle of liquid on the sheets where the older man’s cock is. The sheets and mattress where the former Elder grabbed are in a disastrous state, ripped apart and damaged in his intense passion. He lets go of Yushin’s head and Yushin immediately collapses face-first back to the comfort of the pillow beneath him. His shoulder moves up and down dramatically as he heaves for air. Yushin sighs, sleep threatening to take over… at least he could finally rest—except for the fact that he could feel himself being flipped again, with his back against the firm mattress and his legs parted forcefully once more.
“Ungh… wh…hold on, I can’t continue…” The sleepiness is overtaken by surprise as both hands press against the large, sweaty pecs to futilely put some distance between the two. The older man is still panting silently from exhaustion over the climax he had just hit, if his entire body still trembling wasn’t already enough of an indication.
“I haven’t had enough of you yet,” was Han’s blunt response, leaning in once more. His hand grabs Yushin’s chin so that the older man faces him directly once more. The other hand sneaks its way down to the former Elder’s thin waist and grabs it possessively.
“…You…You are absolutely unbelievable…” Yushin doesn’t get a chance to say more when the long-haired bastard pins him down once more and steals his lips again.
An undiscerned amount of time had passed, Skysword certainly didn’t care to keep track. He looks down to his broad chest where his exhausted lover was knocked out, and sleepily pulls the soft covers over both of them.
He sighs and frowns as he stares at the ceiling of his private chambers. After the fun had worn off, all he has left are the headaches of managing paperwork over his clan. Not to mention the stupid civil war Bishop threw them all in, all because of either entertainment purposes or that Bishop still did not approve of him usurping Yushin’s throne. Whatever other outstanding reason there was, he couldn’t care less. He would aim to overcome the obstacle as he always did, even if the said obstacle was a dragon-hunt this time.
Skysword looks down again at Yushin’s sleeping face. His steely eyes soften a bit and he feels he really is left with no choice but to win if he wants to continue to have many more days like this… His hand gently massages through loose gray locks, prompting the sleeping man to snuggle closer.
For now, his business with Bishop can wait… This was more important after all.
The End