Title: Till Death Do Us Part
Pairing: Keita/Ryuichi
Author: venenatus.venustas
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Don’t own them.
Warnings: So much crack.
Summary: In an ancient world reigned by a woman, Ryuichi is nothing more than the Queen’s brother, locked up in the palace and waiting for an appointed marriage. What happens when the Queen finally decides on a match for him?

Continued from: Part 1



O.o o.O

“He is in need of companionship. He shouldn’t have married me.”

“He is in need of his husband. That would be you, in case you forgot.”

“Shut up.”

“You have left him alone at your estate for a week now. Have you talked to him at all since the morning after your wedding night?”

Silence.

“He is lonely.”

“How would you know?”

“I didn’t tell you this earlier, but he wrote to me several times already. Look: ‘Dear Ryohei, I didn’t see you at the ceremony, but I know you were there, and I have received your wedding gift. I shall use your set of plates often and think of you then.

“‘My husband is a good man. I only spoke to him for a few minutes today, but he is kind to me and allows me much more freedom than I was given at the palace. We live in a separate set of rooms from each other. Will you come visit me? Love, Ryuichi.’”

“What’s your point?”

“I’m getting to my point.” Ryohei cleared his throat. “‘Dear Ryohei, It has been three days since I saw my husband last. He said he might be back for dinner on the first day so I waited and waited until I fell asleep and by morning they told me I just missed him. I know they lied to me; I saw it in their eyes. Please come visit me. I am unfamiliar with the servants, though they are kind, and the manor is so very large when I am allowed to wander it at will. Love, Ryuichi.’”

“What’s your point?”

“The point is he misses you.”

“He doesn’t know me; how can he miss me?”

“He is your wife! You have a responsibility towards him. What do you plan to do, hide from him the rest of your life?”

“That was the original plan.”

“Tachibana Keita!”

“I know. I know. God, I know.” Keita held his head in his hand. “I can’t face him like this.”

“Just go back to him. Take it one step at a time.”

“Ryohei, I…”

“Go home, Keita.”

O.o o.O

Ryuichi was reading quietly in the library. The usually quiet manor was full of noise, with servants running around and cleaning frantically. “Hikaru, Kaoru,” Ryuichi said finally, when the shuffling noises turned into banging noises. “What’s all the excitement about?”

The twins shared a look before replying in unison, “Master sent word. He is returning for supper tonight.”

“Is he?” Ryuichi wrote off the quickening of his pulse to nervousness. “I guess I’ll just…sit here and wait, then.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Ryuichi returned to his book, but he couldn’t concentrate on the words. He set it down again after a few minutes. “Perhaps I should…change my robe?”

“Yes, Mistress,” the twins chorused.

Ryuichi stood up. “I should…does your master prefer lighter or darker colours?”

“Mistress is beautiful in anything he wears.”

“But Master prefers cream colours,” Hikaru said.

“No, he prefers a deep, dark red, the colour of blood,” Kaoru said.

The maid that was refilling Ryuichi’s cup of tea, Haruhi, chimed in, “I have heard Master say that the pale blue of the sky is the most beautiful colour in the world.”

“Cream colours!” Hikaru said stoutly.

“Red!” Kaoru shouted, glaring at Hikaru.

“Or perhaps it is black, for the Master wears it so often,” Haruhi said with a pondering air.

“I need to change,” Ryuichi said, and rushed out of the library. Hikaru and Kaoru followed in tow, still bickering, but Ryuichi ignored them; there were more important things to think of then.

His husband was called the White Lord. That was what everyone called him, it was his official title, and Ryuichi had no idea what else to call him by. Should Ryuichi change into a white robe then? Or did his husband prefer cream colours? Or dark red? Or pale blue? Black? Ryuichi’s head spun as he entered his closet and found it filled with robes of every colour under the sun.

The White Lord had worn black to their wedding even though red was the traditional colour for the consorts of royalty. He had worn black the morning after their wedding also, which was the last time Ryuichi had seen him, over a week ago now. Should he change into a black robe then, to match his husband? But who would want to come home to a wife looking like he was in mourning?

Ryuichi snapped his fingers. “Hikaru, Kaoru, bring me a selection of yellow robes.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the twins said, before continuing to argue as they paraded a variety of yellow robes for Ryuichi, all different shades and cuts and designs.

“That one,” Ryuichi said, pointing randomly at a lemon yellow robe, which fluttered amongst the others like a striking ray of sunshine.

“See,” Hikaru said, “yellow is so much closer to cream.”

“It’s a whole other colour,” Kaoru argued back.

Ryuichi just sighed and stood with his arms out for them to undress him. After a week of this, he had gotten used to it and had lost any hope that the twins would go thirty minutes without disagreeing on any given issue.

“It’s nowhere near red,” Hikaru sniped. “Why would Master like such a bloody colour?”

“You know he…” And then Kaoru stopped – actually froze on the spot, fingers pausing over the knot he was untying for one of Ryuichi’s layers.

“What?” Ryuichi said, looking at the wide-eyed gazes the twins were giving him. “Hurry up, your master is going to be home soon, and I would prefer to be dressed when he is here.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the twins said demurely, and lapsed into complete silence as they finished dressing Ryuichi.

O.o o.O

“My lord,” Ryuichi said, with a short curtsy. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks,” his husband said gruffly. “I had…business to attend to.”

Ryuichi said nothing.

They stood in the foyer of the manor, just looking at each other, and Ryuichi found his eyes tracing over the mask the White Lord wore – black leather, moulded to his features, with the left eye filled in, a ghastly, gaping hole glaringly obvious to anyone that dared to look even though it was part of the original mask itself.

“Let’s have dinner,” the White Lord said suddenly, striding past Ryuichi.

“Oh. Right. Yes.” Ryuichi hurried to follow.

There were two places set up at opposite ends of the long dining table, separated by candles and a large flowery centrepiece. “Come, Ryuichi. Sit with me,” his husband said, and Ryuichi couldn’t help the smile that spread his lips.

“Of course.”

The servants rushed to rearrange Ryuichi’s place to the master’s right, and Ryuichi thought his husband looked rather handsome, if foreboding, under the flickering lights of the candles as they sat themselves at the table.

“Do I frighten you?”

“What?” Ryuichi blinked, surprised. “No, I just…it’s…”

“It’s alright,” his husband said, turning his face away. “You may move back to your own seat if you wish.”

“No,” Ryuichi said, reaching over and laying a hand on his husband’s arm. “I want to sit here, with you. Talk to me. What business was it that kept you away for more than a week? It must be very important.”

“You don’t have to force yourself,” he said. “I don’t want pity from anyone, least of all my own wife.”

“Exactly,” Ryuichi said. “I’m your wife. I’m trying, can’t you see? Why won’t you let me?”

The White Lord sighed, and Ryuichi wondered that even a pair of lips could be so expressive, for they were all he could see of his husband’s face. “Do you enjoy your time at the manor?”

Ryuichi paused at the sudden change in topic. “I…yes. Your library is extensive, and the gardens are exquisite. I’ve taken to walking through them in the afternoons.”

“That’s nice,” the White Lord said absently, waving a hand for a servant to pour wine.

Ryuichi felt secretly relieved as Haruhi filled his wine glass, and reached for it immediately, taking a long sip, barely tasting it on his tongue.

“Are you thirsty?”

Ryuichi lowered his glass, blush rising to his face. Or was it the immediate effects of the alcohol on his empty stomach? “Um. Yes,” he lied.

“Would you care for water?”

“Water?” Ryuichi gave the White Lord a strange look. Did people drink water?

“Forgive me, Your Highness. Would you like for the kitchens to prepare you some fruit juice instead of wine?”

“Oh, no,” Ryuichi said, with a nervous laugh. “Wine is fine.” He took another gulp from his glass, trying to suppress the flare of irrational anger at the use of his title.

They sat in silence, with the White Lord gaping at Ryuichi, who drained his glass, which was instantly refilled by Haruhi.

“Perhaps I should call for some fruit juice instead,” the White Lord said slowly. “So much wine before the meal could not possibly be good for you.”

“Oh, no,” Ryuichi tittered, feeling warm and flushed and relaxed. “This is good wine. And I’m fine.”

“Very well,” his husband said reluctantly.

“Mmm,” Ryuichi said, lifting his glass. “Very good wine.”

“Indeed,” came the dry reply.

O.o o.O

Hikaru and Kaoru had offered to carry Ryuichi back to his rooms, but Keita didn’t want another’s hands on Ryuichi holding him so intimately, and so took up the task himself, carrying Ryuichi through the manor, bundled up in his arms, snoring quietly.

Keita smiled as he glanced down at Ryuichi, whose head rested on his shoulder, and ignored the muffled squee from either Hikaru or Kaoru, who were following closely behind him.

The twins scurried to open the doors to Ryuichi’s rooms, and then to his bedroom, and Keita set his wife gently down on the bed, rearranging Ryuichi’s limbs into a more comfortable position.

Ryuichi’s eyes cracked open. “Keita?”

Keita’s heart stopped.

And then he realised that Ryuichi was too drunk to know the difference.

“No, darling,” he said softly. “Keita is dead.”

“Keita,” Ryuichi whined, pulling at his robe so that it gaped open at his chest, pale skin gleaming from the opening. “I’m hot.”

Keita licked his lips, tugging the comforter out from under Ryuichi, who wriggled and tugged at his robe. “Darling, my love, go to sleep.”

“Keita, I love you.” Ryuichi stretched his arms up. “Won’t you hold me?” He had somehow managed, by sheer force of will, to tug apart all the knots holding his robe together, and Keita couldn’t help but stare at Ryuichi’s body, at the slim torso, the long lean legs, and the thatch of dark hair at the base of Ryuichi’s cock, which was not quite hard but full and pink.

“Darling, go to sleep,” Keita said again, hesitating before covering Ryuichi, who wriggled out of his robe completely so that he was naked under the covers.

“Ooh,” Ryuichi giggled. “This feels good.” And again, he held his arms up to Keita. “Won’t you hold me?”

“I can’t, my love,” Keita said softly.

“Please,” Ryuichi whined.

Perhaps just until Ryuichi fell asleep? Keita couldn’t resist the temptation. “Alright.” He kicked off his boots, yanking off his socks, and slid into bed next to a naked Ryuichi, who curled up into his side.

“Why are you wearing this?” Ryuichi said, yanking at Keita’s robe. “Knots…” Ryuichi squinted. “Big knots.”

Keita panicked, pushing Ryuichi away from him. “No. Not my robes.”

Ryuichi lifted himself up by his elbow, tears brimming in his eyes. “I hate you,” he declared.

“I’m sorry,” Keita said, reaching up to cup Ryuichi’s cheek in his hand. The pad of his thumb swept over Ryuichi’s cheekbone.

The kiss was completely unexpected, a total surprise and rather something of a shock to Keita.

“Mmm,” Ryuichi moaned, grinding against Keita’s hip, and Keita froze at the realisation that Ryuichi was hardening against him.

“Ryuichi,” Keita said, but didn’t have the strength of will to push Ryuichi away. “Don’t.”

“Keita,” Ryuichi sighed, and Keita jerked when Ryuichi’s small hand settled over his groin, fingers tracing his length through the layers of cloth. “Touch me.” Ryuichi’s voice was hot and breathy against Keita’s ear, and Keita found himself wondering if Ryuichi had gotten himself some experience – perhaps with one of the many available boy toys in the palace – before his marriage. And then he ignored the pang in his chest when Ryuichi’s mouth descended on him again, sloppy and open, and Keita pushed him back gently on the bed, wrapping his hand around Ryuichi’s cock.

Ryuichi’s eyes were closed, arms spread out wide on either side of him, and Keita took the opportunity to rove his gaze over Ryuichi’s features even as he stroked Ryuichi firmly; Ryuichi was too drunk for foreplay and teasing. A lighter touch would have gone unnoticed in his intoxicated state, and so Keita’s grip was tight, his strokes sure, and Ryuichi gasped and whined softly, arching his back and lifting his knees as Keita dipped his head to kiss Ryuichi’s chest and toy his nipples with his teeth.

“Keita,” Ryuichi moaned, shuddering as Keita brushed his thumb over the head of his cock. “More. More.” He licked his lips, arm curling around Keita’s neck to pull his head up, asking for a kiss, and how could Keita possibly resist? So he acquiesced, and Ryuichi’s tongue twined around his as Ryuichi pushed himself off the bed and into the kiss, both arms wrapping around Keita’s shoulders.

When they had to pull back to remember to breathe, Ryuichi whined in protest, and Keita’s hand left Ryuichi’s cock to fondle his balls gently, rolling them in his hand, and Ryuichi gasped and rolled his hips.

“More, Keita, I need more. Oh god, more…”

Keita sucked his middle finger into his mouth as Ryuichi’s hips fucked the air above, desperate without Keita’s touch on him, and he cried out when Keita slithered down his body to take his cock into his mouth, his hands spreading Ryuichi’s ass cheeks and middle finger tracing his entrance.

“In me,” Ryuichi whimpered. “Keita, I want you in me.”

Keita sucked on his finger again, sliding it against the head of Ryuichi’s cock, smearing pre-come on it even as his lips stretched to accommodate the width of his finger as well, before his hand returned to Ryuichi’s rear, and he pushed at Ryuichi’s entrance with the very tip of his finger.

“Oooooh,” Ryuichi groaned, twisting away from the touch; it felt strange and foreign, but he whimpered in complaint when Keita’s mouth left his cock, but only to lick his balls, and then lower, until Ryuichi’s hips were in the air and his feet were waving around his own face.

Keita’s tongue licked the puckered skin of Ryuichi’s hole, coating it with his saliva. The tip of his tongue pressed against the entrance, and Ryuichi trembled and gasped and wanted more. “Relax,” Keita was saying to him, and pushed the tip of his middle finger into him.

Ryuichi was dry inside, hot, and infinitely tight as his muscles squeezed around Keita’s finger, in up to his first knuckle.

Virgin, was Keita’s first thought, and the salivary glands in his mouth tingled as he realised he was the first to sample such an exquisite creature. “Relax,” he said again, kissing and lapping at Ryuichi’s cock, weeping with pre-come that oozed out of the head and ran down the sides of the shaft. He reached down briefly to squeeze himself through his robes, willing himself not to come as Ryuichi’s hands wandered down to spread his ass cheeks for Keita, begging him to enter, whining for more.

“Please. Please, oh please, oh please? In me, Keita? In me?” Ryuichi wriggled on the bed, arms forcing his legs apart and fingers pulling his ass open. Keita leaned back, just drinking in the sight, and one of Ryuichi’s hands slid back up to squeeze the base of his cock as the fingers of his other hand traced over Keita’s, whose middle finger had just barely breached Ryuichi’s entrance. He pushed, then, and his finger sunk in deeper, just before the second knuckle, and Ryuichi tensed up all over again.

Keita took a deep, shuddering breath, willing himself not to force the rest of this finger, and then some, up Ryuichi’s ass and give him the ass fucking of his life. Ryuichi was drunk, he reminded himself, almost insane with arousal as Ryuichi writhed before him, stroking himself clumsily, and Keita wanted desperately to know if the clumsiness came from inexperience or from intoxication.

Ryuichi tugged at Keita’s hand in him, fingers wrapping around the wrist, and Keita groaned as he sank back down onto the bed and took Ryuichi into his mouth, sucking him down as far he could go, lips pulling on the sides of Ryuichi’s cock as he bobbed his head in a quickening motion, ignoring the pain in the back of his neck. Ryuichi’s hand left himself the second Keita’s mouth returned, and sunk into Keita’s hair instead, stroking and petting and tugging and when Keita pulled back Ryuichi’s cock was such a flushed, deep red that he was surprised Ryuichi lasted this long at all. Was it because Keita wasn’t sucking him hard enough, or stroking firmly enough? Was it because Ryuichi’s drunkenness numbed Keita’s touch? Keita pushed these thoughts away from his mind, sliding back up Ryuichi’s body, finger pulling out of Ryuichi’s body to wrap around his cock once more.

“Keita,” Ryuichi moaned, hand resting on Keita’s chest and the other still buried in Keita’s hair. His fingers found the ribbon that held the mask in place, and Ryuichi pulled at it harshly, giving a sharp tug.

Keita jerked backwards, sitting up, horror jolting him out of hazy arousal. Ryuichi peered up at him, eyes like slits on his face.

“Keita, take it off.”

“I can’t,” Keita said, and his throat tightened so much it hurt. The image of Ryuichi was blurred momentarily, but Keita blinked several times, and ignored the tears that slid from his eye.

“Hmm?” Ryuichi was confused, and offered up his body instead, arching his hips and waving around his hand to search for Keita’s cock.

“Shh,” Keita said, taking Ryuichi into his hand, stroking quickly, firmly, and Ryuichi was tossing his head back and forth on the pillow, ruining the elaborate twist as he writhed in complete abandonment, spreading his legs wider and hands on the insides of his thighs so that Keita’s wrist hit against his with every down stroke.

When Ryuichi finally came, Keita was holding himself through his robes, squeezing almost painfully to stop himself from rutting against Ryuichi or outright fucking him. The cry Ryuichi gave rang through the bedroom, echoing in the sparsely filled room, and on some level Keita knew that Hikaru and Kaoru, standing on attendance outside the doors, had heard, but he didn’t care.

Ryuichi moaned softly as he rode out his climax, and his eyes didn’t open even as he called for Keita again, hands waving around himself. Keita caught Ryuichi’s hand in his, and pressed a kiss to the back of it, before dipping his head to kiss Ryuichi’s wrist.

“Mmm. Keita…”

Keita had never felt such a strong need to just come, but held it off for just a little bit more as he wiped Ryuichi off with the discarded robe off to the side, tossing it onto the floor next to the bed and pulling up the covers around Ryuichi’s naked body. He sighed, shuddering as he stroked himself once – just once – eyes fixed on Ryuichi’s ruby red lips, which were parted serenely and glinted with saliva in the moonlight.

He forced himself to turn away, unable to suppress the desire in him anymore, and stumbled to Ryuichi’s bathroom to finish himself off, leaving his shoes and socks in his wake.

The next morning, Ryuichi woke up shivering, cold and alone in his enormous bed.

O.o o.O

Part 3