DAISUKE OBEYED, taking down his kimono to the waist as Genji had done. Genji dipped the cloth into the hot water, wrung it out, and wiped it over Daisuke’s back. The moist warmth over his skin relaxed him, and arousal tightened Daisuke’s cock, awakening his hunger. However, he sat quietly, docilely, letting Genji clean the day’s sweat and dirt off his skin and out from under his arms. When Genji finished, he took his comb, pulled out the tie in Daisuke’s hair, and worked the tangles out. Until the previous day when Oribe’s servant had done his hair, the gentle tug on Daisuke’s scalp was a sensation he hadn’t known since Umeno had last combed his hair for him. Genji’s touch, he noticed sadly, was as kind as hers had been. Pleasant tingles erupted along his scalp and radiated downward, over his back and through his arms and middle.
Daisuke hoped this was a prelude to lovemaking but soon found it wasn’t. When Genji finished, he combed out his own hair and retied it. Then he slipped his arms back through his kimono sleeves and lay down on the sleeping mat, his back once again to Daisuke.
As he’d done the night before, Daisuke lay on his side a short distance away, daring only to let his hand rest on Genji’s hair. He wondered if he and Genji would ever have the passion between them that they’d experienced together those two times before.
“Daisuke.” Genji turned his head so that Daisuke could see his elegant profile in the moonlit shadows.
Daisuke’s heart jumped. He rose up on his elbow. Could it be Genji wanted to make love? “Yes, Genji?”
“I’m grateful you defended me.”
Daisuke pulled in a breath. He watched to see what Genji would do after having said such kind words. He so wanted to reach out and pull Genji to him, to feel the sleekness and warmth of Genji’s graceful body against his, but didn’t dare. “So am I,” he said softly.
Genji turned and looked at him. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate. “Good night, Daisuke.”
Daisuke’s heart squeezed. That bereft feeling he’d experienced so intensely for so long now assailed him. “Good night,” he said and lay back down, staring up at the rafters and listening to Genji’s soft breathing until he finally drifted off to sleep.
THE FOLLOWING day unfolded much like the previous one, as did the days after. Their life fell into a rhythm. Continuing repairs to the house, cooking, cleaning, and planting Genji’s kitchen garden filled their days. In the midst of it all, Genji managed to wash Daisuke’s clothes and mend the holes, so that when Daisuke dressed, with his hair combed and pulled up neatly, he looked less the wild warrior and more the dignified samurai he’d once been.
After nearly a week, Daisuke went out after the morning meal to chop wood. He lifted the ax and turned, suddenly overcome. This place looked once again the sweet, cozy home he’d known when Umeno had lived here with him. Laundry hung to dry, a neatly tended patch of garden out back, a cook fire going with a kettle on it, swept floors, and clean mats for sitting and sleeping.
All because of Genji.
“Daisuke, some people are coming here.”
Genji’s voice sounded behind him. Daisuke set down the ax, seeing the concern on Genji’s face. It could be the soldiers he’d seen spying on them from a distance these past few days. Daisuke saw them every day, peeking through the high grasses or riding past on the road, pretending to be about other business when, no doubt, Asano had sent them as spies. He’d not mentioned it to Genji, who hadn’t seemed aware of their presence.
Daisuke’s heartbeat rose ominously. There wasn’t time to tie on his weapons belt, he knew, as he hurried to the house and peeked around the corner. He breathed a sigh of relief to see only Makato, his family, and a couple others from their village approaching. The group of people carried bundles. Genji materialized and Daisuke felt the slimmer man press close behind him, as if for protection. The tiny action made his heart surge. He’d not been unaware of Genji’s inner conflict around him and sensed that Genji was drawn to his protectiveness in spite of the damage it had caused. “It’s my brother-in-law and some others,” he assured Genji.
“Oh.” Genji’s face showed both relief and renewed concern. Yet when Daisuke stepped away from the house to go and greet them, Genji stayed with him.
“Hello, Daisuke,” Makato said as Daisuke approached. “News has traveled that you have a new wife. You didn’t tell me.” Makato bowed even though he bore the weight of a large bundle strapped to his back.
Daisuke’s insides jumped. “I… I—”
“Daisuke wanted to be sure you would approve of me,” Genji said. He spoke in a more hushed, breathy voice that indeed, sounded feminine. The same voice he’d used on the stage when playing the Samurai Princess.
Daisuke wheeled around. Genji stood at his side, his hands clasped demurely in front of him, as if he were, indeed, a new bride. With his hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck and his woman’s kimono, Genji did pass as a woman, in spite of his male throat with its Adam’s apple, as well as his jaw, slightly wider and more square at the corners than a woman’s.
Genji smiled and bowed.
“This is Genji,” Daisuke said.
Makato and Keiko bowed, as did the others behind them. They remained polite although confusion clearly showed on their faces at the male name.
Genji laughed softly. “I’m quite boyish in many ways,” he said in a cheerful voice. “I always have been, so my friends nicknamed me Genji, and I took to it.”
Daisuke gaped at him. For a second, he thought Genji might be mocking them as simple farmers, but the shy smile Genji gave him showed otherwise. When Daisuke looked again at his brother-in-law, a smile had replaced the confused look, and they all bowed again in spite of their bundles.
“We are so happy for you, Daisuke,” Makato said. “We have brought you and Genji wedding gifts.”
Daisuke stepped forward, hands out. “Please, let me help you.”
But Makato waved him off. “No need. We’ve brought them this far. It’s only a few steps farther.”
Daisuke walked next to his brother-in-law, vividly aware of Genji beside him. He glanced sidelong at Genji, who returned his look. Genji still wore that shy smile, and something else reflected in his large eyes. Daisuke’s heart jumped. The softness in Genji’s eyes that had been missing since he’d lost his troupe and his career had returned. The way he smiled made Daisuke feel an opening between them, a warmth that hadn’t been there since the night he’d almost dueled with Asano.
“Oh, Daisuke! The place looks beautiful again!” Makato peered around, not even taking his bundle off first. Keiko and the others murmured agreement, happiness shining in their faces. For the first time in so long, Umeno’s absence didn’t hang like a leaden weight. Now, her memory provided only a sweet reminder of what this house had been, what it had meant to him and, he could see, to his in-laws.
Again, because of Genji. Daisuke resisted the impulse to take Genji’s hand. In spite of the new warmth he sensed between them, he still wasn’t sure Genji would want his touch.
“We must celebrate,” Makato said. “Please, accept your gifts, and then we shall share tea.”
Daisuke helped the others unload their burdens. Genji assisted as well, and in moments, they were presented with new futons for sleeping, a beautiful embroidered blanket, tea, seeds for the garden, and a crate with live hens. “Thank you, Makato,” Daisuke said, bowing to his brother-in-law. “Keiko.”
“Yes, thank you so very much.” Genji’s voice was breathless, and his eyes misted over. He bowed and bowed, as if appearing before an emperor.
Daisuke’s heart squeezed. Genji seemed overjoyed. Considering the glimpse of Genji’s life he’d gotten at that inn, servicing one samurai after the next for that pig he called Shizu… and then, what Genji had told him about his childhood, perhaps, Daisuke hoped, Genji was a bit happier now….
Together, they put all the gifts in their proper places and then served their guests tea before they headed back to their homes. Once Daisuke and Genji had seen them off, Daisuke went to make sure the chickens were secure in their pen and then returned to the house. At the door, he paused.
Genji was on his knees by their new futons. Though it wasn’t yet time for bed, he’d spread them open on the floor and had pulled his sleeve back, freeing his hand to touch the material. He caressed both futons as if they were made of precious silk. When he looked up, Daisuke ducked back outside and held his breath. He waited a few moments then peeked around the corner.
Genji had left the futons in place and knelt by the cook fire now, tending to the evening meal. He wore an expression Daisuke hadn’t ever seen on his face, a sort of placid contentment. The sight moved Daisuke so deeply, he spent their evening meal quietly, absorbed in contemplating Genji and remembering the moment he’d introduced Genji to Makato and Keiko. Genji’s response to them had stunned Daisuke into silence. He’d felt certain that Genji was just playing a role, the way he would onstage. But as the time went on and the gifts were presented, Daisuke understood the truth. Genji was not putting on a show but becoming something he wanted to be.
Daisuke had made the quick decision not to interfere. If being seen as a wife and keeping their home had put the serene look on Genji’s beautiful face, so be it.
After supper, he helped Genji clean their bowls and then watched Genji prepare the bathwater as he did each evening. He sat quietly, trying not to appear as if he were rudely staring at Genji, but he couldn’t resist looking at him, especially when Genji took down his kimono, letting it hang by the sash around his waist. His leanly muscled torso moved with such grace, and the long ebony fall of his hair swung across his back with his movements. At times, Genji held it aside so that he could run the washcloth along the sides of his neck, behind his ears, and then across the back of his neck.
The light muscles in his arm and back flexed with his movements and droplets of water clung to his skin, glowing in the lantern light. The water made a quiet splash whenever he dipped the cloth in and then wrung it out, a gentle sound against the steady cricket song outside in the warm summer air.
Something about that simple act widened Daisuke’s awareness. From the clean, cozy room in which he now sat, to Genji’s presence, to his own return to Kai. He’d come back barely a fortnight ago with revenge in his heart, dismissing the little diversion of spying on Genji in the hot spring as just that… a diversion.
And yet, it had changed the course of his life.
Instead of securing a position as a retainer, in which he could plot a lord’s downfall, Daisuke sat here, in the house where he’d once been very happy and had thought never to live again. His belly was full. His hair and body were washed. His house was in order, and his family believed him happily married once again. They truly cared for his happiness, and he realized their hearts could now rest.
Genji had changed everything.
Genji wiped off his hand and turned, looking at him shyly. “Daisuke.” The cautious gleam he’d had sometimes in his eyes the last few days had vanished.
“Yes?” A ray of hope lit Daisuke’s insides.
“It’s your turn.”
Daisuke practically jumped to his feet and crossed over to the tub. He pulled the tie of his sash and began to unwind it, but hands over his stopped him.
Genji still looked shy, but now he smiled. “Let me.”
“Yes.” Daisuke’s voice sounded suddenly breathy to his own ear. His heartbeat rose as he sat back on his heels to allow Genji space.
In seconds, Genji had the sash off and set aside. Daisuke opened his kimono and let it fall to his waist. He rested his hands on the tops of his thighs as Genji reached into the tub of steaming water and lifted up the cloth, which he wrung out and set gently onto Daisuke’s back.
A pleasant ripple went through Daisuke’s torso, and he closed his eyes at the moist warmth passing over his back muscles. Though Genji was always gentle and thorough, his touch held an… affection that hadn’t been there the previous days. “That’s so good, Genji,” he murmured.
“I’m glad.” Genji slid the warm cloth across the back of Daisuke’s neck and wiped back and forth, reaching behind his ears with each stroke. As usual, arousal stirred in Daisuke’s loins. Being bathed was, for him, quite erotic, especially when the one bathing him was so beautiful and sensual. Daisuke looked down and cleared his throat. Genji seemed to concentrate on his work, so Daisuke remained silent, wondering at the change in Genji’s touch and what it could possibly mean.
All too soon, Genji had finished and dropped the cloth back into the tub. Then he unwound the tie in Daisuke’s hair and picked up his comb. Genji positioned himself behind Daisuke and gathered up the fall of his hair where it reached just below his shoulders. The first pleasant scrape of the comb against his scalp made Daisuke’s eyelids shutter. This part, though not really erotic, still felt wonderful and went a long way to calming his nerves. Genji’s touch remained oddly affectionate in the way he smoothed one hand down Daisuke’s hair, following the comb. “Daisuke,” he said again softly.
Again, that little trail of heat moved through Daisuke’s chest. “Yes, Genji?”
Genji’s hand stilled on Daisuke’s hair. “I fear I did a bad thing today,” he said, his voice slightly tense. “Lying to your family the way I did… about who I am. I… had no right, Daisuke. I’m sorry.”
Daisuke turned so quickly his hair slipped from Genji’s hand. “You’ve nothing to be sorry about. I understand.”
But the distressed look on Genji’s pretty face remained. “What if they realize the truth? I will have shamed you.”
Daisuke covered Genji’s shoulders. “You could never shame me, Genji. I swear it.”
Genji stared at him from wide, sad eyes. “I deceived them at your expense,” he went on. “It was selfish. Just because I was so happy, feeling like I had a home and a… partner. Your family seemed overjoyed that you’d found someone again. It all happened at once. I was already wearing this woman’s kimono, and I just fell into the role.” He looked down again, and a tear slipped from his eye.
That made Daisuke’s heart squeeze. He reached up and caressed Genji’s hair. Sometimes Genji seemed like a sad, frightened child even though he was a sensuous, talented man. “None of that matters, Genji,” he said softly. “I promise.” He brushed a tear away from Genji’s smooth cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I only care that you’re here.”
Genji’s eyes widened again. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“But I’ve been so cold toward you, Daisuke.”
Daisuke cupped Genji’s cheek. He loved touching Genji, even if only on the cheek. Every touch had something… holy about it. “How can I blame you for that, after I ruined your career?”
Genji covered his hand. Fresh tears spilled from his eyes, and his willowy torso trembled in spite of the warm humid air. “You ruined nothing. I promise. The truth is, you saved me, Daisuke. I… didn’t want to accept that at first. I wanted to believe you’re just a pig-headed, selfish samurai, like so many others. But… you’re not. I could never have the theater without… that other part. I hated it. I mean, I didn’t always hate it but it made me so… sad. You saved me. And I love you, Daisuke. I love you so much.”
Daisuke pulled Genji into his arms. Cradling Genji’s leanly muscled back with both hands, Daisuke closed his eyes and buried his face in the fall of Genji’s hair. The sweetest aroma he’d ever experienced, better than fresh plums. And so soft, the way it brushed his lips and cheek, like ebony silk.
One of Genji’s hands burrowed into Daisuke’s hair, while his other clutched his back. Genji seemed to be holding on to him for dear life. Which made Daisuke love him all the more.
And also made something dark pass through him. It frightened him at first, until he understood what it was. Lifting away, he grasped Genji’s shoulders and looked at him, while feelings pounded through his heart, making him tremble. That scene in the inn, the way that pig had slapped Genji, would be forever etched in Daisuke’s mind. “Genji,” he said, his voice a tight whisper.
Genji’s eyes widened. “Yes?”
Daisuke stared back at him for several moments. The words felt trapped on his lips, chained in by raw emotion that made speech difficult. But he knew he must say the words, so he forced them out. “You are my heart’s master.”
Genji’s lip trembled. “Oh, Daisuke.”
“You never have to give yourself to anyone against your will again. I’ll protect you.”
Genji’s eyes misted, and he let out a shivery breath. One trembling hand cupped Daisuke’s cheek and rested there. For a second, Genji looked about to speak, but something shifted in his gaze and he leaned in to Daisuke and kissed him, a sensual brush of his lips across Daisuke’s.
GENJI’S HEARTBEAT raced while his heart soared. Never in his wildest imaginings had he thought he could be here, in this little house with a man like Daisuke. What had seemed bitter at first was now the sweetest thing he’d ever known. He lifted his other hand to Daisuke’s other cheek, cradling Daisuke’s face in both hands. He had to force himself to remember each second that Shizu wasn’t here, lurking in the background about to barge in, to snap at him, to let another client into his room, expecting Genji to please his client even if Genji found the man disgusting.
Each time Genji remembered the truth, the tension ran out of his body. Like now, while holding Daisuke’s face between his hands. Leaning in, Genji closed his eyes as he explored the other man’s lips, tentatively at first, as if he and Daisuke had never kissed before. Indeed, they’d never kissed like this, soft and shy, like two youths exploring the first joys of erotic love. Genji brushed his lips across Daisuke’s a bit more firmly this time, realizing in that very second, he’d never kissed that way.
Genji’s heart leaped again. He caressed the dark stubble on Daisuke’s cheek, loving the way it rasped against the pads of his fingers. Daisuke smiled at him, though his eyes held that heavy-lidded hunger Genji now recognized as Daisuke’s passion, the unexpected bloom of love that had captured the warrior and pulled his heart off its course of vengeance. Genji’s eye fell on the dimple folded in Daisuke’s cheek from his smile. He traced the indentation with a fingertip, appreciating how it only emphasized the masculine beauty of Daisuke’s face.
Genji pressed his mouth to Daisuke’s strongly now and slipped his tongue between Daisuke’s welcoming lips. The larger man groaned softly, as if Genji’s mere kiss were the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted.
That only made Genji love him more. Being lusted after or even appreciated for one’s performance on a stage was one thing, another to bring such passion and pleasure to someone you loved and who loved you in return. Genji reveled in the feeling it gave him, the kind of love he’d portrayed onstage and wanted in his heart and had thought never to have.
Genji savored the velvet softness of Daisuke’s lips and the moist heat of his tongue. Daisuke smelled so deliciously strong and male and tasted just as good. Genji had never understood just how he could taste and smell these intangible qualities of a human being, but he always could, which was one of the ways he’d known he could trust Daisuke. Genji slipped his fingertips along Daisuke’s rugged jaw, then down the sides of his throat, a strong column of tendons underneath smooth, warm skin. Daisuke had beautiful skin, a dark golden hue that offset his brawn so perfectly. Even his collarbone spoke of the strength coiled in that muscular physique. Genji ran his fingertips back and forth along each side before sliding his hand down over Daisuke’s broad chest.
Daisuke pulled in a breath. He seemed to tremble under Genji’s exploring touch, as if restraining himself from pushing Genji onto the futon and mounting him. Genji kissed him with growing fervor, sliding both hands freely over Daisuke’s chest and hard nipples, up over his shoulders, and then tracing the carved musculature of his upper arms. When Genji had satisfied himself with that portion of his lover’s body, he plunged downward, stroking the sides of Daisuke’s tight waist and then tracing the smaller muscles of his abdomen.
When his fingers bumped the loincloth, Genji pulled from their kiss. His own body felt like streaks of icy fire covered it, streaming down his back and stomach, filling his musuko, which pushed hungrily against his own loincloth. Panting now, he pulled Daisuke’s loincloth and started to unwrap it. “I haven’t finished washing you yet, Daisuke,” he breathed. More fire streaked through his loins as he revealed Daisuke’s lower body and anticipated bathing it, teasing himself until the moment Daisuke would lie on top of him, between his thighs, and fill his passage with that thick, delicious manhood.
Daisuke helped him by pulling the end of the loincloth so that it slipped away and then set it aside. He rose up on his knees, his cock erect and straining toward Genji with inviting hardness. Genji dipped the washrag back into the water, which was, thankfully, still warm enough to make steam rise from its surface. He wrung it out and then pressed it to Daisuke’s abdomen, wiping in gentle circles downward, around Daisuke’s cock.
Daisuke groaned and reached up, caressing Genji’s shoulders, even as Genji washed him. “I’m sorry, Genji,” he rasped. “I want you so badly.”
Genji smiled and wet the cloth again. “I want you too,” he said and wrung the cloth out, this time wiping it across Daisuke’s lower back and over the hard globes of his ass.
“That feels very good.” Daisuke’s hands rested on Genji’s shoulders, as Daisuke was obviously balancing himself now against the relaxing pleasure of being washed.
Genji chuckled. “It feels good to me also.” He wiped again and then dropped the cloth into the tub so he could bend over and engulf Daisuke’s cock in his mouth.
Daisuke groaned. His hand burrowed into Genji’s hair yet he didn’t yank or thrust. He remained still, groaning, accepting the slide of Genji’s mouth down his shaft until Genji had nearly swallowed him to the root. Daisuke’s cock tasted as incredibly delicious as his lips. Up and down Genji slid his mouth, tasting, teasing, licking while with one hand he cupped the heavy sac, kneading it gently as he sucked.
“Oh, Genji.”
The fevered whispers of his name made Genji suck faster, pulling back and sliding down again, wanting to bring Daisuke so much pleasure. The first droplets of Daisuke’s essence seeped out, and Genji swallowed them, salty-sweet nectar on his tongue and in his throat.
But then Daisuke pulled back and urged Genji upright. “Genji, I….” Daisuke’s eyes looked feverish, feral, and yet at the same time, he appeared to be fighting desperately for control of his hunger. “I want to… please you, Genji.”
Before Genji could answer, Daisuke slid his hands from Genji’s shoulders and began working Genji’s loincloth open, slowly at first, then with urgency. Genji helped him, unwrapping the cloth and shoving it aside as Daisuke had done with his own.
Unexpectedly, Daisuke reached into the water and retrieved the washrag, which he wrung out with a cascade of dripping water, a sound Genji had always associated with the pleasure of a bath, and even more so now. A wave of shyness overcame him when Daisuke pressed the cloth to his stomach. He wasn’t used to someone tending to him. And yet he wanted nothing more in this moment. Daisuke’s one hand rested on Genji’s shoulder while with the other, he passed the cloth over Genji’s bare skin, massaging in gentle circles that both relaxed and excited Genji. His response was obvious in the way his cock strained upward, eager to feel Daisuke’s hard stomach sliding along its length as he thrust into Genji.
The cloth brushed over Genji’s cock. Genji’s eyelids fluttered closed, and his head tilted back. He could hear Daisuke’s breathing, tight and ragged, and felt the heat of Daisuke’s body move in closer.
The cloth, hot and wet, moved around Genji’s balls and inner thighs. Each rasp of the soft material against his skin excited him, made him reach for Daisuke’s arms and brace himself for balance. He opened his eyes long enough to see Daisuke dip the cloth and wring it with one hand, then closed his eyes again as Daisuke washed his lower back and his ass, in the same way he’d done to Daisuke.
“That’s so good, Daisuke,” he whispered, eyes still closed.
He heard the cloth drop into the water with a splash, and then Daisuke’s warm lips closed over his, Daisuke’s special kiss, soft passionate licks that told Genji how much Daisuke wanted him, how good he felt and tasted to the samurai.
Daisuke’s large hands cradled Genji’s back now as his kisses heated, chafing their lips together with hot urgency.
Genji felt himself being lowered, and then the softness of their new futon—their marriage bed—met Genji’s back.
Ahhh. Genji got that melting sensation he always did when Daisuke touched him, held him… licked him, as he did now. Daisuke had pulled away from their kisses and was licking his way down Genji’s throat, a heated trail that made Genji smile as his body slipped into the erotic blend of complete pliancy and sexual hardness.
Daisuke’s hot kisses reached Genji’s chest, and Genji arched his back, loving the icy fire in his nipples as Daisuke kissed and licked and sucked them in that perfect, sweet, utterly zealous way. Everything Daisuke felt for him came through in his mere kiss, a worshipful showering of moist heat on his bare skin. Lower and lower Daisuke went, down Genji’s stomach, while Daisuke’s large hands pressed his hips on either side.
Daisuke captured Genji’s cock in his mouth. He seemed to like the taste and feel of it, his eyes closed, dark lashes resting on his cheeks while he slid his mouth up and down its length. Genji’s head thrashed back and forth under the erotic massage. Never before had someone been so eager to love him, to please him, as if tasting a sumptuous feast.
In the next second, the cool air met his shaft, and Daisuke loomed over him, his broad physique nesting between Genji’s thighs. Genji reached over for the small bottle of sesame oil he’d set by the tub. He poured some into his palm, filling the air with the pleasantly nutty aroma, and then smoothed it up and down Daisuke’s erection. Over the blushing reddish color and network of veins, the evidence of the life pulsing within the thick member, Genji anointed it, preparing it for the ultimate pleasure.
With a smile, he set the bottle aside and lay back, holding his arms out to Daisuke. The larger man didn’t hesitate to lower himself, so that they pressed together, chest to chest. Genji closed his arms around Daisuke as the head of Daisuke’s oiled cock poked his entrance. That alone sent a shiver of delight through Genji’s body, and he reached down, guiding the seeking member in, making it stretch him open.
Daisuke braced his upper body on his elbows and nudged harder. His cock penetrated the tight ring of flesh and then slid in, hard and deep. He groaned and covered Genji’s mouth with his, beginning their rhythm of ecstatic friction.
Genji clutched Daisuke’s broad back and squeezed his muscles around his lover’s cock. That made Daisuke groan and lick deeper into Genji’s mouth. Genji opened his eyes, absently, deliriously, watching the shadows from the lantern light dance up in the rafters of the tiny house. Nothing felt more glorious than Daisuke’s body joined with his, especially here, in this little piece of heaven. For as long as life let him have this gift, he intended to savor it: Daisuke’s strength and heat, the passionate thrust of Daisuke’s cock deep inside him, their bodies sliding together, Daisuke’s stomach rubbing his cock between their torsos so that he could come with his lover. And of course, the velvet heat of Daisuke’s kiss, one of the most magical things Genji had ever experienced, sweeter and more transcendent than being onstage, in costume, unrecognizable to the world except as an illusion, a beautiful illusion that made its viewers forget their harsh reality for a little while.
Daisuke groaned. His body stiffened, followed by the hot gush of his seed. That last thrust sent Genji over the edge, and he too climaxed, a warm milky eruption that fused their bodies together.
One of Daisuke’s hands passed over Genji’s hair, even as Daisuke lay panting on top of him. “Thank you, Genji. Thank you.”
Genji closed his eyes and held Daisuke tight in his arms. He buried his face in the warm sweaty curve of Daisuke’s neck, just above his collarbone. They rested like that until they caught their breath and then cleaned up before lying back down.
Daisuke lay behind Genji, spooning him with a brawny arm across Genji’s front. Genji nestled closer and laced his fingers with Daisuke’s as his eyelids grew heavier. To think, he could fall asleep like this every night, with Daisuke’s protective warmth and strength surrounding him….
“MINAMOTO DAISUKE!”
Daisuke blinked. A rough sound had pierced his sleep. Gray light filtered into the house, and cool air, the air of predawn, touched his bare skin. A weight against him entered his consciousness. Daisuke blinked again, becoming aware of Genji in his arms, still asleep. Genji’s bare skin was warm against his.
“Minamoto Daisuke!”
That sound again. Now clearer. His name, barked in a heavy male voice. A familiar voice.
Now Genji stirred and lifted his head. “Daisuke?” Sleepiness rimmed his eyes.
“I know you’re in there! Show yourself.”
Genji gasped and sat up, dislodging the blanket. “Daisuke, what’s happening?”
Daisuke’s instincts jolted into place, and he put a finger to his lips. “Who’s there?” he called out, though he already knew.
“You well know who this is. I come on business for Lord Yorimasa. He wishes to see you. Now.”