Kokutan || Inn time

Setting: Kokushibou and Demon King Tanjirou meet up after a few days and enjoy some time together.

White sateen sheets shift to the movement of Tanjirou’s leg interloping with Kokushibou’s; he is cradled within his large muscular arms and Tanjirou’s small, innocent laugh lingered throughout the relentlessly cold room. The snowfall had already enveloped much of the greenery on Tanjirou’s way here. His toes are still damp from the snowflakes that creeped their way into his straw boots.

Kokushibou had returned from a trip━in which he ladled Tanjirou with such detail that it almost felt like he could’ve been there himself━and so they chose to meet here, an inn where they could spend the next few nights in each other’s company.

The night is quiet, save for the branches susurrating against the frost covered window glass. Kokushibou lingered his hand around Tanjirou’s thigh, itching to disrobe him. Despite the freezing temperatures outside, he desired the softness of Tanjirou’s skin.

Tanjirou hummed, as if to think whether to indulge or slap that hand away teasingly. Kokushibou’s breath trickled from the rustling of his hair down to his nape; with his back pressed to Kokushibou’s chest, he couldn’t see what kind of expression he had. His scent, though━a mix of sake and arousal━made Tanjirou lips curl upwards with sentimental longing.

“…Is this fine?” Kokushibou whispered, saying little. Tanjirou nodded, blood rushing to his cheeks he felt the pull of the obi barely holding his attire together. His breath catches, unable to distance himself when he’s turned around to see Kokushibou’s piercing gaze. Taciturn he may be in these situations, Tanjirou knew the words he couldn’t say.

“I missed you, too.” He answered. The obi slid from his waist and Tanjirou shivered from the direct contact with Kokushibou’s fingers. His hand moved to Tanjirou’s knees and paused before traversing up to stop at his abdomen.

Time stopped━at least for Kokushibou━to let him admire the demon next to him. His scent is warm and inviting like sunflowers. Tanjirou’s congenial gaze is equivalent to the beauty of the sunrise. He almost feels guilty that his hands, sullied with the blood of humans he’s consumed and defiled by the lives he takes, is permitted to glide his digits across such a figure.

Tanjirou does not feel the same when he pushes to be closer, to have Kokushibou’s lips touch his. Their kiss is long drawn, tongues hungrily aching and pressed against each other. Tanjirou clutched onto the collar of Kokushibou’s kimono when he pulled back.

“Don’t hold back.” Tanjirou said; it is a warning, not a suggestion, that Kokushibou should freely do what he wished to. His grip on Kokushibou’s wrist is tight and bound with a command that he shouldn’t stop until Tanjirou was satisfied.

Kokushibou deeply inhaled; he must obey and relinquished the little patience he had left. Shifting to be on top of his King, Kokushibou pressed his lips against Tanjirou’s neck. If he were to be tainted, then let it be not blood, but Tanjirou himself.

“Call my name.” Kokushibou whispered, though there was hesitation. He is afraid, a fear that the breathless pronunciation of it would have him unable to live without it.

Tanjirou giggled; he tenderly grazed his fingers around his cheeks. Kokushibou’s eyes narrowed as he leaned to the touch.

“Kokushibou.” Tanjirou said slowly━and in between another shared kiss━said his name once more with a voracious craving, “Kokushibou.”

His nails dug into Kokushibou’s back upon the sharp pierce of two fangs around his neck; hot pleasure spread throughout his body and down to his toes. Biting his lower lip, Tanjirou suppressed a whine lest he needed the whole inn to know what they were up to. He didn’t feel like sharing anyway.

When Kokushibou pulled away, Tanjirou licked his lips while staring at Kokushibou’s starved face. His wide eyes, breathless pants as if the air was choking him, droplets of Tanjirou’s blood dripping onto his kimono, and the veins on the back of his palm becoming even more prominent with the sudden tightness of his grip on Tanjirou’s neck all enticed him to lift his legs and wrap it around Kokushibou’s waist.

“Kokushibou.” Tanjirou lavishly mewled his name, earning a squeeze on his throat.

Kokushibou used his other hand to forcibly push and spread one of his legs apart; Tanjirou willingly spread the other.

Tanjirou wanted to be full of him and Kokushibou obliged.

The morning of Tanjirou sat at the edge of the bed with the usual markings and bruises. He sips his hot cup of tea; the tips of his semi-long locks are frayed in all directions, an apt result from the many times they tussled on the bed even after they were done with their lustful proclivities. Draped over his shoulders was Kokushibou’s kimono that covered some parts of his naked body.

Kokushibou went to the bathhouse using the cotton shirt and bottom provided by the inn as his new attire; he knew Tanjirou wouldn’t let go of his kimono until the very last minute of their time together here. After his bath, he returned shortly to greet Tanjirou’s sleepy gaze.

“…Good morning.” Kokushibou said with a kiss behind Tanjirou’s ear; Tanjirou returned the favour by a kiss on Kokushibou’s cheek.

“It’s a very good morning.” Tanjirou mumbled with a bob of his head; Kokushibou sat behind him and gave another quick peck.

Tanjirou continued to absentmindedly think back to last night and the taste of Kokushibou, outlining his veins and muscles while Kokushibou tried to untangle the mess of Tanjirou’s hair with the wooden hairbrush he asked to borrow from the bathhouse.

“The moon was beautiful last night.” Tanjirou commented; he hid his playful smirk with his lips around the mouth of his teacup. Kokushibou froze; his scent changed to overwhelming embarrassment.

“…You will be the end of me, Tanjirou…” Kokushibou sighed, covering his face with one hand to prevent him from showing the clear scarlet seared ear to ear. Tanjirou turned around and tilted his head.

“I hope so,” He laughed, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”