Yami no Matsuei, Byakko/Touda, soft fur, sleek scales
Touda has never been particularly fond of Byakko's tongue. Too often the things that come off of it are childish and thoughtless. It's a cat's tongue, clever only when speaking riddles and abrasive every other moment, sweeping with sandpaper affection against tender skin, fragile nerves and steely scales alike. Whether speaking or grooming, a tiger never knows when to put the thing away.
The only good thing about it, to Touda's mind, is that the abrasive nature keeps monochrome fur kitten soft. Touda has no issue with Byakko's fur. It's a luxury to curl around the purr rumbling mass of blood warm hair and rub, carefully, cautiously, ever mindful of unnatural edges. He'd make a bed cover of the feline if it would stay so warm and well kept.
Scales offer no such pleasure. They are a challenge for Byakko to grip, ever shifting, sliding along and shivering beneath his palms. He must sheath his claws and mind his petting strokes. Captured in coils of cool, sleek black, he must surrender his actions to the serpent, trust Touda to care for him and never squeeze too hard. To rub the wrong way at all would cause the scales to catch, ripping at the paper thin skin beneath. Fur can be rumpled and mussed, it's resilient. Touda at his most impressive is the most vulnerable of them all, open to pain in great measure. A snake may retreat, but it can not go backwards, after all.
And from this... the temporary relief of a willing partner, neither are willing to back down. Byakko will bite his lips until they bleed as Touda constricts around him in endless motion, devouring his pleasure in a knotted cocoon of ebony and Touda will claw furrows into the stone floor as he paints black stripes white, a thrumming purr of laughter rattling his very heartstrings.
And together they will forget the name neither is willing to call out in desirous delirium.