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Despite a decade of training and nigh constant threat of death looming over the heir’s head, Hanzo oft slept fitfully. Encased in the warmth of the kakebuton, he rarely moves, still as if in death, snoring softly. In his youth, glowing dreams of landscapes encompassed his mind, inspired by the picturesque view of Hanamura from the roof of their home; in his dreams, his younger brother would often sit aside him, still, pliant and calmed by the winds carrying cherry blossom petals into their vision. A dream that seemed further and further out of reach, with the repeated acting out from the younger son, as if he would never grow into the place carved for him by their ancestors and their dragon-gods. Even in Hanzo’s early twenties, the dreams were still soft, shaped with sculptor’s fingers and an artist’s touch, leaving him floating, wistful and blissfully uncaring for the world he had become accustomed to.
It was not often he dreamed of ravishing someone on the grass, on the thin blanket spread to protect sensitive skin against the itch that always came. It had not happened since he was a teen, cumming desperately into his own underwear at the thought of women he’d been acquainted with through various means. In his twenties, he had not ever imagined to have another - especially not with a girl as young as she seems. The jawline cut from clouds with cheekbones of tsunami waves, her eyes dagger sharp and nearly black. He could not place the face, but black curls cascading down her back were something he’d often seen with the tourists who had come through the little shops, leaving her as open and unfamiliar as the girls he’d see leaving the castle before their father awoke. She slipped svelte fingers down the rise of his chest, sharp nails biting into flesh, as she straddled his waist, patterns of moles and sunspots down the expanse of her neck and chest.
Enraptured by the dream girl, Hanzo could not recall when the yukata had slipped down her shoulders, baring a chest that held no rise, only the dark green ink of a dragon’s curling tail, light gradations similar of tebori, used by the Shimada clan. Further down, it slipped, nipple piercings with silver dragon barbells, a tattoo of Pachimari on the iliac crest until she blurred into nothingness, where his body and her body connected.
“Hanzo…” Her voice was too deep to be a figment of his imagination, too alike Genji’s own, the inflection of his name with the lilt at the end was not an American or French woman’s, but a native speaker, who had been speaking his name for decades, perhaps eons. Time, within dreams, held no meaning, looping so that five minutes felt like months, and years felt like seconds. The dream woman shifted, the hair floating down the lithe frame, carried off by the wind in his dream, cutting itself, though her hands rested on his chest, framing him. Groaning, he shifted, the hard press of his cock against her clothed thighs, watching himself disappear into the blurrying void of their connection. “Anija...” Too real, the word and name of sentimentality are Genji’s, the tone of voice is Genji’s, the now cropped wavy hair is Genji, the tattoos and piercings are all Genji’s and it is suffocating, a sharp fist of desire snaking viciously up through his gut to wrap around his neck. Everything about the dream screams Genji, his brother, savage forbidden desires sneaking through his subconscious to poison that which was meant to let him reflect, give him pause and meditation.
If it is in his dreams, then it is not wrong - dreams reflect reality, the tactical part of him hisses, refusing to allow him even this minute pleasure. An alternate world where the mind and body and soul caress unbidden and buried desires. Your desire for your brother is vile, depraved, sinful. Disgusting. You would let your clan and empire fall to dust, burnt to ashes, if it meant you could have him. He wants to argue with himself, tell the part of his brain that spews self depreciation and the unearthed needs that they are wrong, but he cannot - the offering of pale flesh and pink lips will not be denied. Plush lips dance along the point of where Hanzo’s pulse thrums battle marches against his skin, his heart seeking escape from the cage of bone. Against his neck, his pretty brother hisses again. “Anija…”
The dream’s lips travel down the expanse of Hanzo’s chest, tongue lazily tracing the trails in unexplored territory; Genji’s minikin mouth opens, baring pearl white teeth that had so often flashed cocky, charismatic grins at the tourists, and he bites, tearing into his brother’s flesh. Red welts like brands rise against the tawny skin, as if this dream could mark his territory on the living’s body, to show to all the world that even in the world of the waking, Hanzo’s mind owns, possesses him. “You are so - so beautiful when you sleep, anija.”
It is the hiccup in the middle that begins to bring him from sleep, the words sharper, but the sound muffled, head under metaphorical waves. Shifting for the first time since preparing his futon for sleep, Hanzo’s eyes pull open slightly, unfocused on the darkness around, fluttering lashes clumped from sleep. The first sharp sound, as the fluid in his ear clears, is a loud squelching sound, his mind acutely aware of the lewdness it inspires. Heat pools in his groin as dark eyes seek the source of the sound, lit by the aureate light from the floor lantern aside his and Genji’s futons, making contact with eyes so alike his own.
“Genji-” Hanzo’s low voice, heavy and groggy with sleep, groans, slender hips canting upwards towards unknown heat. “What…” As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he attempts to sit up, fingers finding the bare skin of another’s chest, recoiling from the skin on skin contact. The panic of being nude in the same room with his brother and someone being atop him and naked is offset by the image burning itself into his mind, chest heaving. Genji’s usually styled sage hair hangs over his eyes, dark brows furrowing in concentration as he looks down at Hanzo, cheeks flushed, hands clutching at his shoulders in pleasure. His full lips have swollen, red as pomegranates, peach tongue running over them, smirking as if it were all part of his plan. Between Genji’s pale thighs, his cock juts out from dark wiry curls, harsh red from the blood, throbbing desperately. How long had his brother been hard? Why was his brother hard and straddling his waist?
A hot grip around Hanzo’s own cock is enough to cause him to buck, horror rising in his belly at the realisation that it was his brother. His cock was in his brother’s ass and they were both so hard they leaked precome. But gods, how desperately and needily he had wanted this for so long, but not like this. “I missed you…” Genji whispers, teeth digging into his brother’s neck, raising bruises and claiming him as he grinds dirtily against his brother. The sensitive nose inherited from their father twitches and senses into regretful wakingness, taking note of everything around him. The almost vanilla scent of sake, the bitter smell of cunt and sex, the sounds of cicadas outside. The fire burning in his belly, the throbbing in his cock, the warmth of his brother’s ass around him like a vice. Every inch of Hanzo screams that it is early in the morning, perhaps late in the night - that he should be sleeping, without the pleasant albeit taboo wake up call.
“Genji, you are drunk. You’re not - you’re not here.” This must end before it begins, Hanzo reasons. I cannot let myself have this. If I have this now, I will never stop and I will consume him until he is nothing but embers. The elder stands firm, a statue of marble as Genji rises off his cock just a bit, lithe and rather callously, swaying slightly. His bare chest, accented with those same damn nipple piercings and tattoos Hanzo had dreamed of, catches the moonlight, highlighting red hickeys, purple bruises and neon lipstick marks - green envy takes control over the heir as he balls his fists tight, refusing to reach out and clean him, cover him with his own marks so that his brother would never forget who he truly belong to. Genji falls and Hanzo just barely is strong enough to stifle the moan threatening to slip from his lips.
“Yeah, I’m drunk. But Ani-Anija, I know what I want.” Inching forward just a bit, Genji’s fingers dig into Hanzo’s chest, blunt nails pressing against his pectorals. “I let - I let Jun-kun and Hiro-kun fuck me because I wanted to be open for you, Anija. I wanted to ride my big brother’s cock when he slept, feel him come all - inside of me…” His back arches, curving his chest in a way that Hanzo can smell the hint of cheap perfume - some sweet smelling thing that some poor tourist girl had bought in hopes of making herself seem more well off. How many people had he fucked in the night before crawling into his room and filling himself with Hanzo’s cock? A sharp growl punctuates the elder’s breath as he tries in vain to protect himself from his brother’s advances.
“It is wrong.” His self restraint mirrors that of saints and monks, despite the insistent throb of his cock. Head tilting back, Hanzo sucks a breath through his teeth, trying to will his erection down as his brother rises and falls again. “Genji…”
“Feels good, Anija? Let me - let me make you feel good. No one will have to know… just me and my big brother alone in our - in our room.” Genji hiccups, the effects of his drinking come to hunt him down to strip him of common sense and what little dignity he had left. “No one will know… I’ll be quiet...all for Anija...” Babbling on, the younger presses his brother back to the futon, watching the way his eyes flutter closed then open. If I ignore this, I cannot be at fault. “Anija…. Say yes… say yes, Anija, please…” Genji’s eyes flit around the space of Hanzo’s flared hair, leaning in to nose at his neck as he whimpers his pleas into his skin. “Say yes and go - go back to sleep, Anija…”
Father will disown Genji and I and our empire will fall. Thousands of years of tradition and honor will be lost. Then, a train of thought completely separate, as he feels the telltale twitch of Genji’s mouth against his ear. My brother has been replaced with a devious kitsune - he is not my brother and if I give into the wishes of this demon, I will be damned for eternity. I cannot - I - “Yes.”
Genji smiles, crooked with the beer burning in his veins and belly as he clutches at his brother’s shoulders. “Genji -” Rising up and off his brother, he sucks in a deep breath, sweat dripping into his eyes as he giggles, too loud for the quiet of their room. Hanzo watches, entranced, as his brother bends over, blunt nails digging into the meat of his cheeks as he spreads himself open. Groaning, Hanzo took care to memorize the sight; the gaping rim, puffy and swollen from fingers and foreign cocks, the slide of cum down the taint, his hole twitching, desperately, aching to be filled. Heavy lidded eyes glance back at his brother as he sinks back down, shoulders rippling, back muscles arching. Grunting, Hanzo’s eyes fluttered closed, trying to return to sleep. If I am asleep, it will not be my fault. Clutching at his hips, as the head of his cock is pressed against Genji’s hungry hole, Genji wiggles; the stretched rim giving way. “Anija I wish… I wish you were awake.” His brother takes it so good, so well, clenching up to make himself tighter. “You could tell me - how much of a slut - how slutty I am.” Choking on his gasp and moans as Hanzo’s wider and longer cock spears him open, Genji keens with a sharp whine. Hanzo finally bottoms out and he shifts his hips, canting upwards, wanting his cock deeper, as if he could crawl inside his baby brother.
The quietness of the room makes the slapping of Hanzo’s balls against his brother’s ass so loud - what will happen if Mother comes in? It wouldn’t be the first time she had come into her children’s room when Genji’d been out all night - she cared so much about her younger son that it left their father angry more often than not, her sharpness, her deadliness weathered by his spoiled presumptive heir. “Anija’s cock is so big…” Genji’s moans are too loud, too much. Steadily, slowly, lithe and sensual, the green haired boy rocks, curling his fingers around his cock. “I want Anija to eat his come out of my ass, to - fuck me in front of the council. I want you to - to plug my slutty ass with ginger and spank me until I cry. I want him to make me wear women’s clothes and - shove my panties in my mouth. To - to tell me what a good girl I am and fuck my pussy...” Spilling out the words, Hanzo bucks again, peeking an eye open as he watches Genji get thrown up by the force of his hips. “Fuck!”
Peering back, his brother watches him, wondering what he was doing, before laying back against his brother. The sage green of his hair contrasts deeply with the white pillows and the black frame of his brother’s. Reaching for his awake brother’s arm, he throws it over his throat, feeling the sharp pulse and the corded muscles. “I want Anija to be awake when he fucks me…” Faking sleep, Hanzo twitches, holding tightly and cutting off his sparrow-boy’s air supply, before he rolls over, fucking Genji from the side. “An-Ani-Anij..a...” Choking out, Hanzo picks up the pace, sleepily humping and thrusting into the wet, tight heat of his brother’s ass. High pitched wheezing cuts off the harsh panting and Hanzo’s face splits into a wicked grin. Gasping, his voice breaking over the second syllable, Genji clenches up, moaning as he coats his belly in his come, staining Hanzo’s futon.
And Hanzo - he is not far behind. He had not been, when he’d awoken to find his cock in his brother’s ass, and with the filth spilling from his dirty, depraved little brother’s plush lips, makes him ache. Grunting, he tries to pull out, but Genji whines, deep in subspace. “Come in me, anija…Make me pregnant...” The flickering of Hanzo’s mind short circuits as he thrusts deep into his brother and groans as he paints the insides of his brother’s ass, pistoning into him. Gasping, grunting, Hanzo rolls back around, trying to sync his breathing to a calm one. It is only when his heart stops trying to escape from his chest that disgust sets in.
It doesn’t last long, before Genji is restless, moving and sitting upwards, a hand pressed to his gaping hole. “Anija, please - please -” Hanzo’s dark eyes trail over the form of his brother before beckoning him forward with a finger; the younger wastes no time as he crawls over, holding the elder’s head between his thighs. “Eat - eat my pretty pussy, anija.” Hanzo snorts derisively as he pries his brother’s hand from his hole. Almost immediately, his own come drips out, and he is hesitant to press his tongue against his brother’s hole. The taste is bitter, but Genji’s immediate reaction of arching his back and grinding back against him. Pressing his fingers against his brother, he curls them upwards, coaxing more and more out of his ass, until he’s sure that his mouth is too full of come. Tapping Genji’s thighs twice, his brother crawls along side him, sitting in his own cum, wrapping his arm around Hanzo’s broad chest. The moment is shattered by Hanzo digging his fingers into Genji’s jawline, prying it open and letting the viscous cum drip into his brother’s waiting mouth. Choking on the sudden influx of cum, Hanzo watches with sick pride as Genji chokes and sputters, wiping at his face. "Anija is so m-" a drunken hiccup. "-mean."
Again, the disgust rises up in him. “Go to sleep, Genji.”
By the time Hanzo has cleaned himself up and moved back to their room, to sleep in Genji's futon, his younger brother is snoring softly and deep in sleep. Sighing, he folds his legs as he rests on the futon. Turning upwards, to glance at the moon peaking through the shoji, he feels himself reaching for it. If the moon could sit along side the sun, after the things he had done to her, then perhaps, Hanzo could as well.