Yami no Matsuei, Kijin/Touda, teenage rebellion
His father hates Touda. Everyone hates Touda. They fear him, curse him, and only Tsuzuki's claim keeps him from being attacked by those outside the Divine Twelve. Because they could now. The mighty hell serpent is crippled, his senses dead by the very visor that 'keeps them all safe'.
Kijin is too young to remember the last war. He has no idea what Touda can do, what he did to be sentenced because no one will speak of it. He wants to know. He wants to know what was so terrible, so powerful, that Touda was locked away, his name erased, when Kurikara was simply exiled to a sealed dimension and his name crossed out from the records.
It started with fascination he supposes. When Tsuzuki brought Touda out, Kijin had no idea who he was, why he caused such a stir among the other shikigami. The man was tall, and pale, and he had the most striking gold eyes Kijin had ever seen.
The next time he'd seen Touda, the ebony waterfall of hair had been shorn brutally short, and the dark visor hid those beautiful eyes away. He was so... alien. A stranger despised and reviled and Kijin couldn't find out why. The only ones who didn't fear the snake were Tsuzuki, Kijin, and little Tenkou. And perhaps Byakko, who was too much of a cat to fear anything.
So Kijin studied Touda. He watched him, listened to the infrequent words that left the serpent's lips, and silently marveled at the strength and grace of that warrior form. It didn't take long for fascination and curiosity to lead to midnight ponderings and wet dreams. What would that body look like naked? Would he wear the collar to bed? What sort of sounds did a snake make when caught in the thrall of pleasure?
None, it turned out. Kijin was a dragon, and nothing if not bold in his curiosity. Touda didn't turn him away, didn't seem to care one way or another about being taken by the son of the man who helped condemn him. If there were any reservations in his heart, Kijin wasn't privy to them. He was a sleek, muscled, pliant mountain of heat. Arching his spine with boneless grace, skin flowing over chiseled, toned muscle, his gifted claws dug furrows into the unforgiving earth.
There was no give, to Touda. He submission was a simple act born out of something nameless that Kijin couldn't hope to define or capture. It wasn't an acknowledgment of strength or superiority. The beast of black flame couldn't be tamed by mere wind. He was stone and steel and carefully curbed killing intent. A volcano not asleep, but patiently bubbling under the surface.
Even after he came, body tightening like a constrictor on prey, he was untouched, unmoved. Any emotion those shining eyes might have had, locked away under the restraining visor.
Kijin knew nothing more after spilling himself deep in Touda's clenching heat than he did before. Except that he wanted more. His father was a fool to throw something this fine away. Touda was loyal to Tsuzuki wasn't he? He was quiet, and brave, and insanely fucking good in bed. And he left the collar on.