#tsurusami

Good soldiers deserved rewards. Bad soldiers deserved punishment.

Usami wanted both.

He wanted everything when it came to Tsurumi Tokushirou.

It wasn't easy pining for a man since he was 12. Usami had never known or heard of anyone who had carried a torch for someone as long as he had. Anyone who was even remotely as devoted as he was. Tsurumi had waited for him too, for as long as Usami had waited to join the military and meet Tsurumi again. And he was finally with the only person that was important to him. The only person that mattered.

He wanted everything when it came to his most important person.

Of course, Usami wanted to do his job well, because he was good at what he did. He tried to do his best, every time, for the sake of his country. Mainly for the sake of Tsurumi. But while the promise of praise and adoration from Tsurumi was extremely attractive, he had also seen Tsurumi chastise his colleagues, discipline other less competent soldiers. Every single time, Usami would fantasize about being in their shoes, he’d imagine what it was like if it were him who received Tsurumi’s wrath. It was still a very appealing scenario to be in. Everything, when it involved Tsurumi Tokushirou.

It had been a while since he had seen his superior, longer still that they had properly spent time together. He had just returned from a mission with a team to deal with some brigands that were terrorizing a village and they were due for a debriefing.

Usami knew what was coming. One way or another, he was going to spend some time with his beloved First Lieutenant today. Surely.

He had better get some quality time with Tsurumi, or he'd be frustrated.

The mission report went smoothly, and when Usami wasn’t speaking, he was chewing the inside of his cheeks, his entire body already hot. Tsurumi looked as handsome as he always was, and Usami was never one to shy from staring. It had been almost five weeks since he had Tsurumi all to himself. Could anyone really blame him for feeling a little tense?

Post-debrief, and Tsurumi said easily, "Stay back, Superior Private Usami. I need to have a word with you."

Usami saluted, all his frustration vanishing into thin air, replaced by thinly veiled anticipation. His smile was probably too wide for propriety, and everyone was probably looking at him dirty, but Usami could not even pretend that he cared. Just the two of them, finally. Usami had been waiting.

"Yes, First Lieutenant."

Everyone eventually cleared out and it was just him and Tsurumi in the meeting room. Usami could hear people walking around outside, but everything else was background noise in comparison to the pounding of his own heart. He could feel it in his throat. If Tsurumi touched him, he was sure that Tsurumi would feel it, the thunderous beat of his pulse.

...He really wanted Tsurumi to touch him.

The very thought of it made him fidgety. He kept his hands strictly by his sides, rocked on his heels just once. All smiles. An electric current under his skin.

Tsurumi closed the file of papers before him and looked at Usami with a smile. Usami's knees felt weak.

"Good job taking care of our problem in Bifuka. It seemed like you had no trouble dealing with it.”

"I’d say so, sir," he wasn't preening, but he had a strong urge to adjust the collar of his uniform, and his cheeks were hot anyway, "It wasn't a big deal. The bandits didn't stand a chance. I took care of it. As always."

"As always!" Tsurumi crowed, proud, "Good job, Usami."

"Thank you, sir!" He could drool, he might just let himself, it was just the two of them here right now, "First Lieutenant Tsurumi~"

"Hm?" Tsurumi’s tone was coy. Usami fidgeted, the heat going up, up to his head. His throat was dry. He was getting aroused.

"Sir...I’d like to be in your company tonight."

"Oh? Do you deserve it?"

Usami was panting by now, uncomfortably hard, already squirming in place, "Yes."

"Hm? You don't sound sure."

"Yes! First Lieutenant Tsurumi, it’s been so long. And I did so well for you. Please?"

Tsurumi's consequent smile had an edge to it, and for a split second, Usami was convinced that he was going to be punished for being demanding. He wanted that. Oh, he wanted—

"Be at my quarters at 9 o’clock, sharp. Ready for me, as usual. Alright, Tokishige?"

A spark ignited by the use of his given name. He knew that he had to wait but he was unravelling already, face burning with how flushed he was, "Yes, sir. 9 o’clock, sharp."

Tsurumi stood up, picked up his documents. Walked past Usami and placed a gentle hand on Usami's shoulder. He squeezed once, and Usami's entire body was livewire.

"Dismissed."

The urge to shove his hand down his pants was overwhelming, but if Usami could wait weeks, he could wait a few hours longer. Only a few hours longer.

No more than that.

 /

 On his way to Tsurumi's quarters, Usami wondered if people could tell. Wondered if they could tell from the smile on his face and from the skip in his step, that Usami was about to be in the company of the only person that mattered to him.

The door of Tsurumi's room was unlocked, of course. Back when Usami was new to the division and they were only beginning to learn each other physically, there was a time when Tsurumi's room had been locked. Tsurumi had asked him to wait inside, too, but Usami couldn't enter the room. Usami had gotten upset, and that never happened again.

But there was always some lingering trepidation that the room might be locked again, and the burst of joy Usami felt when the door opened for him was wonderful. Tsurumi loved him, and this was proof.

Once inside, Usami hurried and prepared everything. He placed Tsurumi's desk chair at the foot of the bed, leaving enough space for him in between. He then sat in seiza on the floor, back straight, palms on his thighs. Where he belonged. Then he waited.

He was excited. The last time they got together, Tsurumi had let Usami suck his dick. Leisurely at first, then he had held Usami's head still while he pushed in deep enough that Usami choked. Usami still teared up thinking about it, it was a quick go-to memory whenever he needed to get off. Maybe Tsurumi would let Usami do it again, tonight. Maybe Tsurumi would fuck his throat so hard his voice would turn hoarse. Usami could hope.

But he needed to distract himself; thinking too much about Tsurumi would make him want to touch himself, and he wanted to only come with Tsurumi watching today. He didn't get the chance to do this as often as he would have liked to, so he needed to be patient.

Usami exhaled slowly, trying to settle into some sort of calmness.

There were footsteps outside, muted voices, then the doorknob turned and Usami's attempt was flung out the window.

Tsurumi entered the room and closed the door behind him. He looked at Usami waiting for him; Usami was thrumming, he might just vibrate out of his skin; and smiled, "Wonderful. Right on time, Superior Private Usami."

"Of course," Usami said, already breathless, "9 o’clock, sharp."

"Very good," Tsurumi shrugged off his coat, placing it onto the coat hanger next to the door, loosened his uniform a little, the very picture of someone ready to relax. Not for the first time, Usami could only look at him, basking in Tsurumi’s presence. Sometimes Usami thought he knew Tsurumi more than he knew himself, but it was times like these where Usami would realize that that wasn’t the case. The way Tsurumi moved, it differed from time to time. Some days it was as if he was putting on a show, almost gliding in his walk, fully aware of Usami’s eyes on him. Some days it was as if he couldn’t care less if anyone were watching, moving with singular purpose. Today, it was the latter.

Usami loved it all.

Tsurumi poured himself a glass of water, drinking it down in a few gulps. The shift of his Adam’s apple was tantalizing. He set the glass down, and glanced at Usami, “Some water, Superior Private?”

His throat was extremely dry, but Usami shook his head, “No thank you, sir.”

Finally, finally, Tsurumi made his way towards him, and Usami tried his best to maintain his posture, despite his inability to control the excitement on his face. Tsurumi touched the chair in front of Usami and regarded him for a moment.

Then Tsurumi dragged the chair even closer, to Usami's surprise, so close that when Tsurumi sat down, Usami had to tilt his face even more to look up at Tsurumi. If Usami leaned forward, he could kiss Tsurumi's knees. If he moved a fraction closer, he could put his face right in between Tsurumi's legs. Usami wanted that so badly.

Tsurumi reached out to touch his face, and Usami immediately went lax. The grip on his face was firm, almost perfunctory. Tsurumi moved his face as if to inspect him, and Usami went with the motion, thrilled to be touched.

Apparently satisfied by what he saw, Tsurumi let go and leaned back, placing his elbow on one of the arms of his chair. His cheek resting on his hand, he settled in to watch, "Undress."

"Yes, sir," Usami obeyed, unbuttoning his uniform with shaky fingers. Five weeks since their last encounter, and Usami's longing was unbearable now. He divested himself of his clothes and set them aside, returning to seiza style once he was done, clad only in his fundoshi. 

Tsurumi’s head tilted as he noticed the large bruise on Usami’s left thigh, “What happened there, Usami?”

Usami had almost forgotten about it, really, “Oh, one of the bandits in Bifuka tried to throw me off. He had a pretty good punch. It didn’t matter.” In fact, Usami didn’t even register the ache in his thigh until after, only focused on break of cartilage and the quiet noises of pain from the bandit at the time, as Usami pummelled him in the face over and over. Usami hadn’t stopped until there was no noise, and the face under his fists felt like mush. It was a good time.

“It’ll turn into a very nice color soon enough,” Tsurumi stated; the bruise was red and angry as large as an open fist, and it was darkening in some places, “You’ll have to show me when it’s all purple.”

Usami opened his mouth to agree, but Tsurumi had moved. He shifted his leg and placed his boot on Usami’s thigh, pressing downwards onto the bruise. It hurt, the pressure on the tender flesh making pain bloom in a slow ache, and Usami had to bite his lip in an attempt to keep quiet.

The boot edged in even further in between his thighs, and pushed against his clothed dick, and Usami couldn’t stop his moan.

“First Lieutenant Tsurumi…” Usami breathed out, not so subtly trying to lift his hips into the contact, well on his way to a full erection already. Tsurumi only smiled, casually lounging in his seat, and Usami was sure he could come just like this.

The boot pressed against him harder, a little painfully now, and Usami began to pant; he couldn’t help it, he rolled his hips, wanting more of the friction. The very thought of it, Tsurumi stepping on him to give him pleasure, it was enough to get Usami there. He wanted Tsurumi to step on him harder, make him feel it, make him come in his underwear—

Just like that, the pressure ceased, and Tsurumi moved his foot away.

Usami whined, gripped his own knees tight so he wouldn’t reach out and shove Tsurumi’s foot in between his legs again, “Sir, I was so close—”

“You were, weren’t you?” Tsurumi’s tone was amused even if his face was devoid of any amusement, “Still such a quick shot, Usami.”

“But I can go again, sir! I can do it as many times as you want me to, over and over—ahh,” Tsurumi had pushed his boot against Usami again, harder this time; Usami hissed but immediately ground up against it, desperate for the friction, “Tokushirou-san—”

Tsurumi smiled then, keeping up the pressure while Usami frantically rutted against it, single-mindedly trying to chase an orgasm.

Right when Usami was on the very edge, when his moans were getting progressively louder, Tsurumi pulled away. His hips pushed up into nothing and Usami was once again denied, his high fizzling into nothing.

It was glorious.

Usami had half the mind to really reach out this time and just take what he wanted from Tsurumi. But Tsurumi shoved his foot right in the middle of Usami’s chest, with such force that Usami fell backwards, his head hitting the footboard of the bed. Tsurumi didn’t let up. A hard boot on his sternum, heavy and painful.

Usami’s entire body was livewire again, he was giving off heat from head to toe, he wanted to burn alive under the stare of Tsurumi Tokushirou and he wanted Tsurumi to watch.

“Get on the bed.”

Usami scrambled to obey, uncaring if he looked too eager. He was eager, he was so ready to be flayed open by Tsurumi, however Tsurumi saw fit. 

He sat on the bed, seiza style yet again, and had to keep himself together, lest he fell over sideways from his excitement.

Tsurumi stood up, and undressed himself, slow and steady, as if he had all the time in the world, “You look like you have something to say.”

Usami's thoughts were racing, and he was stumbling over his words but he could not stop, he needed to tell Tsurumi, he needed Tsurumi to know, "Tokushirou-san, I want you to break me, please. Mark me up. Turn me inside out."

"Tokishige," there was that amused tone again, even when Tsurumi looked so cold, "You've grown so shameless. I could give you everything and you'd still want more."

"Oh please, give me everything."

A very small quirk of the lips, almost unnoticeable, and Usami was sure he was drooling. He only felt utterly undone when it was Tsurumi watching his every move, observing him. Usami wanted to expose himself in every sense of the word, just so Tsurumi could see every part of him. Tell Tsurumi what kind of thoughts plagued his mind whenever they were apart. What he thought of when Tsurumi was near.

Mostly undressed, Tsurumi got on the bed, and Usami bit his lip viciously, his cock so hard it hurt.

Was this what it was like, to be an eager bride on her wedding night? Usami imagined it was similar, with how they were sat on the bed, facing each other. It certainly would be way less exciting than what he had with his superior. A normal bride would not have a shared, bloody past with her groom. A typical bride would not have killed for her husband. The husband would not have taken the fall for her by risking his career.

If there were such a couple, Usami would like to meet them. He'd kill them both. 

“Sometimes I’m convinced you have no idea what you ask for,” Tsurumi said, and reached for him, touching his hip, “The ramblings of a dirty pervert.”

Usami couldn’t help but moan, “I’m so dirty, please…”

Tsurumi's grip on his hip tightened and Usami only squealed in delight, wanting to bruise from it. The heat was clouding his judgement, the lust making him stupid. He was already breathing hard, as Tsurumi’s other hand undid his fundoshi, fingers brushing against his skin every so often, so gentle in contrast to the hard grip on his other side.

Before long, Tsurumi held up a hand in front of his face, and Usami leaned forward to run his tongue over the expanse of Tsurumi’s palm, unable to tear his eyes away from Tsurumi’s own gaze. Almost emotionless, even with what they were doing. Usami wondered what Tsurumi was really thinking. If he could crack open the enamel cover and peer into Tsurumi’s open wound, would he find his answer? If he cracked Tsurumi’s skull, would he finally understand?

Tsurumi wrapped fingers around his dick, then, and Usami’s thoughts disintegrated. Tsurumi's hand on him, a simple gesture, but it was Tsurumi. He squeezed lightly, before jerking Usami's cock with sharp movements of his wrist, and it was so much gentler than Usami's own usual punishing pace, but with a much tighter grip, and Usami—

He was going to come.

Oh, he was going to come, he could feel it, and on reflex he inhaled, ready to push himself over the edge. He screwed his eyes shut and opened his mouth—

But the noise he was going to make was aborted, the neigh cut in half as Tsurumi gripped the base of his cock hard, cutting off his climax yet again.

"Tokushirou-safffwah," the grip tightened, and Usami hissed, the pain so so good, tight and real and his brain was going to implode.

Or maybe his dick would, the pressure too much for his flesh to handle.

But Tsurumi was touching him, bare skin on bare skin, a small smile curving his lips like Usami had just executed a perfect throw. Proud.

He'd blow himself up into a thousand messy little bits if it would make Tsurumi proud.

"Still neighing, Tokishige?"

"Ah, y-yes, I-"

"Sick, sick boy."

His hips bucked, unable to keep still. Surely his dick would be leaking if it could, but Tsurumi's grip on him was tight again, and Usami could scream.

Tsurumi jacked him off again without preamble, shoving him headfirst into overwhelming pleasure one more time, and Usami’s exhalations were shaky and broken. He wanted to keep holding Tsurumi’s intense gaze, but it was so good his eyes closed of their own accord, and he could definitely come just like this, it never took him too much to—

Another tight, tight grip, and Usami groaned in desperate frustration, the pain snapping him out of the pleasure.

He opened his eyes to wildly search out Tsurumi’s own, and he couldn’t tell what Tsurumi was thinking. It really had gotten more difficult to gauge Tsurumi’s thoughts after his injury, but he was here with Usami, touching him in the most intimate of ways, and that was all that mattered. Usami was only truly alive in these moments he shared with Tsurumi.

He loved it, he loved all of it. This was a reward. A punishment. Both.

Tsurumi let go of him altogether, and considered him, “I want you on your front. Up on your knees. Can you do that for me?”

Without question. Usami obeyed, a little more than shaky from not being able reach his peak. His dick was sore but still so hard, and he did as he was told, his ass up in the air, head settled in between his forearms. He was all ready to go, having prepared himself extensively earlier. Surely Tsurumi would fuck him, just like this.

…He really wanted Tsurumi to fuck him.

But Tsurumi only placed a hand on the small of his back, sliding downwards to take hold of his dick again. Usami breathed out, his eyes fluttering close as he focused on the sensation of Tsurumi stroking him, with longer pulls this time, a looser grip. He was already on the precipice of an orgasm; he could definitely get there without much stimulation at this point. A quick shot. That was true. Tsurumi was going to stop, though, he was sure. The expectation did not make it any less frustrating when Tsurumi squeezed him again, just as his grunts got rougher.

This was hell. This was heaven. Usami was going crazy.

Tsurumi released him, moving his hand up to brush fingers over the flexing muscles of his abdomen and Usami sucked air in through his teeth. He was never one to deny himself anything too long; he didn't give a fuck about propriety or shame. But Tsurumi was setting the pace, and he only ever wanted to please Tsurumi.

Nail scratched over skin, and Usami had to bite the inside of his cheek hard to ground himself. Hard enough he broke the soft membrane and bled, but he didn't even notice the copper tang on his tongue.

"Still thinking of Niigata?" 

"Always," Usami said truthfully, "I never stopped thinking about that day. I lost my—" he belatedly realized that he had never told Tsurumi how he remembered that day. Of what he thought of it.

He could feel the interested tilt of Tsurumi’s head behind him, like it was a tangible thing, “You lost your…? Continue.”

Usami exhaled, closed his eyes, “My chastity. I lost it to you that day.”

Silence, and he didn’t dare look back at Tsurumi, for some reason. He knew it was true, that Tsurumi had taken his virginity that day at the dojo. Tsurumi may not think the same but Usami knew the truth.

He felt Tsurumi lean over him, his front resting against Usami’s back. Tsurumi’s voice close to his ear.

“Oh, Tokishige. You can’t lose something you so readily give away.”

Tsurumi grabbed him by the hips and pulled, making Usami gasp, his arms almost giving out. He was panting again, going dizzy from the proximity, from the sheer idea that Tsurumi had accepted that Usami did lose his virginity that day, one way or another. Tsurumi was his first.

He felt Tsurumi’s hard dick nudge his ass and Usami made a hungry noise, forcing himself to be still, “Please. Oh please, please do it.”

A shift of their bodies and he felt the cool plate of Tsurumi’s forehead cover against his shoulder, and Tsurumi spread him open with his fingers before pushing into him steadily, all the way in.

Usami threw his head back and bared his teeth in beatific victory. This was what he had longed for; the length of Tsurumi's entire cock splitting him open, completely occupying the space inside of him. Just as Tsurumi was always in Usami's mind, his every thought.

"Tokushirou-san," he moaned, already trying his best to ride Tsurumi, impatient to fuck, "Oh, I missed you so much."

Tsurumi placed a hand in between his shoulders and pushed down hard, so much that Usami’s arms did give out, his face pressed into the bed. The angle shifted and Tsurumi was deeper inside him, and Usami whined against the bedsheets. He felt Tsurumi’s front fully press against his back, Tsurumi’s face near his. Tsurumi sighed, and it made Usami shiver.

“Rotten little thing,” The words were mean, but Tsurumi's tone was almost sweet. Tsurumi's breath against his ear, and he arched his back, wanting more Tsurumi even closer, "If I opened you up, would you just be black inside?" His palm pressed against Usami's abdomen, holding him. Pushing up against where Tsurumi was inside him.

Usami panted, desperate, hungry. He’d be rotten inside if that was what Tsurumi wanted. Tsurumi would see his own name carved in Usami’s foul flesh, where it had been since he was a boy. He wanted to tell Tsurumi all this, but he could only whine as Tsurumi had started moving in earnest, the cock spearing him open again and again driving him speechless.

Usami moaned, the pressure and the closeness and Tsurumi, getting him there, making him lock up, head thrown back in pleasure and—

The hand on his stomach darted lower, Tsurumi grabbing his dick again. Squeezing.

Usami wailed.

"To-Tokushirou-san!" His voice was broken, hoarse, "Please. Please." He shook his head, edged to the point of pain. It was good, but he was going to lose his fucking mind. Had he already lost his mind?

Tsurumi fucked him again, hard and fast, and stopped just when Usami was about to come. Usami felt insane.

He was crying. He could feel it, he was earnestly crying, overwhelmed with being denied over and over again, by Tsurumi’s hardness insistent and heated inside of him. He couldn’t keep count of how many times he had reached the point of climax. His entire body was taut and tense, a livewire forced to contain all the snapping electricity inside of him repeatedly, and he was going to burst into sparks, somehow. But only at Tsurumi’s behest.

Tsurumi’s hands were tight on his fists now, pinning him down, and he could only feel Tsurumi driving into him, the motion too intense. He could scream, but all breath was fucked out of him. Again, he was going to come again, and he was already pleading for mercy, incoherent and desperate.

Tsurumi kept going, and Usami locked up, entire body spasming from his sudden, violent orgasm. He burst into sparks.

He came messily onto the bedsheets, his dick trapped in between the mattress and the weight pressing over him. He kept coming, jolting from aftershocks, small, hitches of his breathing that sounded foreign to his own ears. He was only used to consecutive orgasms in a short period of time. He never knew a prolonged, singular climax was going to tear him apart this way.

Usami wasn’t sure if he blacked out or if he just lost sense of time in the middle of his orgasm, but after he had caught his breath, Tsurumi was fucking him still, long, slow strokes that made Usami’s toes curl. He could feel it, how close Tsurumi was, and was suddenly frantic with the realization.

“Inside me, Tokushirou-san,” he gasped, trying to look over his shoulder, catch a glimpse of Tsurumi even as his eyelashes felt heavy with tears, “Deep inside me. Please, sir, I want it.”

Tsurumi did exactly that, be it from Usami’s request or his own volition, it didn’t matter. Usami moaned, too sensitive and too fucked out, but wanted some part of Tsurumi inside him just a little longer. Something he could appreciate later.

A moment suspended in time, just the two of them locked together.

Tsurumi pulled out and rolled over, lying down on his back, their harsh breathing the only sound in the room. Usami felt burnt out, the electricity inside him expulsed. His head was clear. He still felt the significant wetness in between his legs, and the knowledge was warm and wonderful in his chest.

“Ah,” Usami reached back to touch himself, push some of the leaking come back inside, “God. Tokushirou-san.”

“You’re overwhelming as always, Tokishige.”

That made Usami laugh. He pushed himself up to grin at Tsurumi, who against all odds, looked perfect and handsome and flushed prettily, so much that Usami wanted to get this picture of him tattooed on himself, somehow. A sight only for Usami. Much like so many other things.

“Me? I’m overwhelming?”

Tsurumi looked at him and smiled. Usami still couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but that was perfectly fine. It was his Tokushirou-san.

Tsurumi chuckled, his smile edging on fond, Usami thought, “You’re something, alright.”

Tsurumi reached out to pat his head, and then left the bed to presumably clean up. Usami preened now, satisfied and happy. He had his quality time with Tsurumi. It’d be a while before they’d get to spend time together again, but nothing could bring Usami down for now. Tsurumi loved him. He dropped onto the bed again and rolled happily, the sheets still warm from what they were doing.