orangegreenlove: (Tottsu blow~)
[personal profile] orangegreenlove
Title: Dragon Slayer
Pairing/Characters: Kitayama/Totsuka
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, monsters, magic, some mention of injuries
Word Count: 1730 words
Notes: Written for [ profile] talisa_ahn , for the [ profile] je_wakamono exchange.
Summary: No matter how far his travels take him, there’s one constant in his heart.

Kitayama slid his claymore free. The monster’s dark purple blood was already drying, leaving sticky stains on the sharp steel. Miyata landed behind him, guiding an exhausted Tamamori safely down.

“I want the horns,” Nikaido announced, zipping past Kitayama’s head on his skates. “There’s still space on my wall.”

While Nikaido and Senga cut and sawed and ripped and pulled at the monster’s giant horns, Kitayama cleaned his blade. Monster blood was corrosive and once cool could eat through steel as if it were soft wood.

“You’re not hanging that over your bed,” Yokoo admonished Nikaido. “Neither you nor Ken-chan need any more brain damage when it inevitably crashes down.”


The wide double doors of the hospital wing were open to let the summer breeze in, strains of music drifting as far as the armoury. Kitayama strained his ears for a hint of Totsuka’s voice while he dropped off his damaged equipment, then followed the soft sound of Totsuka’s guitar.

Only half the beds were occupied, injured fighters resting while the healing music washed over them, speeding up recovery times from weeks or months to just days. Kitayama walked down the row of beds, Totsuka’s music flowing over him, easing his wounds. There was no obvious change to the music, but the moment Totsuka recognized Kitayama, his magic brushed against Kitayama’s own in a gentle caress.

“Welcome back, Hiromitsu,” Totsuka greeted him. “I see you’ve decided to return in one piece this time. Or at least not missing any more pieces than you started with,” Totsuka continued pointedly, eyes drifting over scars both visible and hidden.

“All the important bits are still there,” Kitayama replied, ignoring the wolf whistles from the nearest patients. Between them, the members of 4U currently had three working legs, making a duel (or four) not exactly an option.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Totsuka’s office was just a wall and two curtains, giving only token privacy. While magic could heal injuries, this healing needed energy from either healer or patient, so except for emergencies, healings were usually slow or spaced out over a few days and as much as possible was left to nature.

Kitayama dropped his shirt on the second chair, letting Totsuka fuss over the cut along his ribs. Gentle fingers found and removed the tiny hooks the manticore had left in his flesh. Totsuka hummed while he worked, drawing out poison and infection with his voice. Once his flesh was knit together enough to keep the wound from reopening, Kitayama raised his hand and brushed his fingers through Totsuka’s short, spiky hair, then trailed his fingers down over Totsuka’s cheek.

Totsuka turned his head to kiss the metallic tip of Kitayama’s right index finger. “I’ve come to appreciate your replacement parts, but that doesn’t mean you should court danger to acquire more.”

Kitayama grinned. “Should I change my weapon? Perhaps a boomerang. It would keep me far out of harm’s way.”

Totsuka’s laughter rang through the hall. “A delightful scheme indeed. I can just see you, standing on a little hill and knocking monsters out from a distance, right up until the moment Taisuke goes sword to claw with a monster five times his size and you rush in for a share of the glory.”

Fast as lightning, Kitayama grabbed Totsuka’s arm and pulled him down onto the narrow hospital bed. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed your laughter.” Before Totsuka could admonish him about inappropriate behaviour in the hospital, Kitayama pressed their lips together, muffling the words.

Kitayama trailed kisses over Totsuka’s jaw and neck while his hands found their way into Totsuka’s clothes. Totsuka’s skin was soft and he smelled so good and moaned so sweetly when Kitayama sucked on his neck. “I’ve missed you,” Kitayama groaned against Totsuka’s neck. “So much. I want you, Shota.”

“Not here. Meet me in my rooms after dinner.” Totsuka pushed Kitayama back by the shoulders and fixed his clothes. “Now go and play with your sword, there’s still work to be done.”


Except for the hickey Kitayama had left on Totsuka’s neck earlier, Totsuka’s pale skin was unblemished, not marred by even the tiniest scar. Apprentice healers tended to practice on each other, removing even scratches with magic until healing became as natural as breathing.

“Hiromitsu! Ah,” Totsuka moaned.

Kitayama chuckled. “There, huh?” he asked, brushing his fingertips over Totsuka’s prostate again. He took his time, caressing the sensitive tissue until Totsuka relaxed around the intrusion.

“Nnh,” Totsuka replied, trying not to be too loud - his chambers weren’t the only ones in the healer’s tower and the apprentice healers needed their rest, though from the sound of it, a few at least were having guests over as well.

Kitayama curled his fingers and Totsuka moaned, tossing his head from side to side. Totsuka’s short, spiky hair looked very blond, almost gold against the dark pillow, so Kitayama asked, “Any particular reason why your hair’s golden?”

When Totsuka opened his eyes, they were dark with arousal, but his voice was steady when he answered. “A slight miscalculation by my apprentice. It seems black and gold feel almost the same.”

Kitayama chuckled. The emphasis on feel meant it was something sensed with magic, not touched by fingers or regular senses. It was so typical of Totsuka to volunteer himself as a guinea pig for an apprentice’s personal quest. Hagiya had been trying to find a way to fix the silver strand in Yasui’s hair for almost a year before he became Totsuka’s apprentice. After he turned half the apprentice healers of the big hospital in the capital city into redheads, Hagiya had been transferred here, because Totsuka was the only healer willing to allow his experiments to continue.

Totsuka shifted, trying to push into Kitayama’s touch, so Kitayama pinned Totsuka’s hips down with his right hand while he stretched him, taking care not to apply too much pressure with his metal finger - magic made the replacement bodyparts almost as good as flesh and blood, but a warrior’s hands were calibrated for holding a sword, not for caressing soft skin.

“Getting impatient?” Kitayama asked when Totsuka squeezed pointedly around his fingers.

“Perhaps a little,” Totsuka admitted. “Please, Hiromitsu?”

That was about as much begging as he could expect from Totsuka, so Kitayama twisted his fingers one last time before pulling them free. He looked Totsuka over, his eyes traveling over all that smooth, pale skin. “You’re gorgeous,” Kitayama breathed, pulling Totsuka up and into his lap.

Totsuka’s hair was too short for Kitayama to get a hold of it, but Totsuka made up for that by digging his fingers into Kitayama’s hair as he settled more comfortably in Kitayama’s lap. This kiss was slower, just a brush of lips on lips at first, almost teasingly light, but there was nothing teasing about Kitayama’s wandering hands that settled quickly on Totsuka’s ass.

Totsuka nipped at Kitayama’s lips. “Getting impatient?” Totsuka teased.

Yes.” Kitayama squeezed Totsuka’s ass.

Without any more prompting, Totsuka took a hold of Kitayama’s erection and sank slowly down onto it, pausing every inch. By the time Totsuka finally dropped down the last inch, Kitayama was just about at the end of his patience. He thrust up into Totsuka right away, making Totsuka gasp and cling to his shoulders.

“Okay?” Kitayama asked while he thrust up into Totsuka at a steady pace, though the way Totsuka moaned his name was already more than answer enough.

“‘Okay’ doesn’t even come close,” Totsuka replied, bouncing on Kitayama’s erection. “Oh. Oh, Hiromitsu.”

“Stop saying my name like that if you want me to last any length of time.” Kitayama kissed Totsuka again, only in part to shut him up. This kiss was open-mouthed and messy, all tongue and muffled moans.

Having Totsuka riding him was nice and all, but what Kitayama really wanted was to pound Totsuka into the mattress until there were no words left, so he tipped them over and rolled on top of Totsuka. Totsuka made a startled noise but then spread his legs eagerly, allowing Kitayama to push back inside easily.

Kitayama thrust his hips, pushing deep into Totsuka’s body with each thrust. Totsuka was slick and hot around him, utterly perfect, and that was even before Totsuka curled his legs over Kitayama’s thighs to pull him even closer. It changed the angle just enough that Totsuka moaned at every thrust, fingers digging into Kitayama’s sweat-slick shoulders.

Kitayama nuzzled the side of Totsuka’s neck, nosing at the hickey he’d left earlier. He couldn’t easily reach Totsuka’s erection like this, but that wasn’t an issue - after a few weeks of separation, Totsuka was generally so worked up that he could come just from getting fucked. It was indeed just a few minutes later that Totsuka suddenly tightened around Kitayama, twitching under him.

Fucking through the increased tightness, Kitayama worked him through it, drawing every single moan out of Totsuka until Totsuka finally stilled, utterly spent. With Totsuka taken care of, Kitayama concentrated on his own pleasure, chasing his orgasm. Totsuka’s lips brushed over his cheek and it was that, that simple, gentle gesture, that drove Kitayama over the edge.


Light music and the soothing curl of Totsuka’s magic against his own slowly lured Kitayama awake. He yawned and stretched, then scratched at his chest, stopping short when he found the faded pink scar over his ribs. The music must have been playing for a while before he became aware of it. Kitayama’s hand closed around Totsuka’s wrist, stopping the music. “Don’t exhaust yourself.”

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Kitayama sat up, but kept his fingers around Totsuka’s wrist. “Look how thin you are already. You shouldn’t drain yourself like this, not for a little scar like that.”

Totsuka set his guitar down carefully, then let Kitayama pull him back into bed. Once Totsuka was settled comfortably in the circle of Kitayama’s arms, he trailed his fingers over Kitayama’s scars. “I can feel the disturbance in your magic,” Totsuka admitted. “The wounds, the scars… they pull at me until I sing.”

“Asking a healer not to heal is like asking a fighter not to fight, isn’t it?” Kitayama said with a rueful chuckle.

“I promise to take better care of myself, if you promise to be careful,” Totsuka said and sealed the agreement with a kiss.
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