Warnings: Yaoi, mentions of BDSM, mentions rough and/or violent sex, but it's all consensual.

Took me a lot of editing to be pleased with this fic. Hope you enjoy and, please leave a coment tomake me smile.


Kiss me, Jadeite.

And he's almost embarrassed when the response comes, and Jadeite's still calling him 'Master'. He often wonders if Jadeite only submits out of guilt for betraying him before. But then the smaller boy will get bold enough to steal a kiss before he's asked, only to blush and stammer out half formed sentences until Mamoru finds a better use for his mouth again.

He takes control without force, without any need for it.

He lets his hands brush over smooth, unbroken skin, dragging down and back up again like waves breaking on the shore. Playful, teasing, because he knows Jadeite won't complain, just squirm and try to get him to continue but unable to speak.

"If you don't tell me what you want then how can I possibly help you?"

Mamoru is surprised and glad when Jadeite pulls him closer again and he can trace the lines of his youngest Guardian's ribs, making him laugh.

And when he laughs, Mamoru thinks he's found the sun.


Kiss me, Nephrite.

And the words are barely out of his mouth before the other man is on him. Bruising intensity and an almost animalistic force that leave him breathless for a second. They make a game of their power battle, seeing how much command they can gain before the other fights back. Mamoru may be the master, but Nephrite is stubborn and proud and he's not going to relinquish control without a damn good fight.

And that's what makes it fun. Adrenaline thrills through Mamoru's veins whenever Nephrite gains the upper hand. It's not like with Jadeite, when it's safe and gentle and Mamoru knows he'll always be in control. And it's not like with Kunzite either... Because they never know who is going to win this time. And on the nights when Nephrite forces him down, digging sharp nails into his back (impossibly sharp nails...) Mamoru can growl than tomorrow it will be different. Tomorrow night he'll raise his game even higher.

"So, this way I get you to myself two nights in a row."

And Mamoru realises he's right; there's no way he's leaving it like this.

And so in a way, Mamoru thinks, just for a second, that perhaps they're the best match of all.


Kiss me, Zoisite.

And Mamoru sometimes thinks he needn't bother speaking at all. Because Zoisite already knows. Of course he knows. It's as though he can see into his Master's mind and knows exactly how long he'll have to wait before it's his turn again. And when they kiss...Mamoru sometimes thinks he can actually feel them melting together. It's as fluid and familiar as one of the pieces Mamoru loves to hear Zoisite play.

Mamoru barely has to sigh before Zoisite knows what he wants, moving to comply, to save his master from having to ask. Mamoru has to catch himself from the edge of passion, reminding himself to not be selfish and to pull Zoisite with him. Even when Zoisite makes it incredibly hard for him to concentrate on anything other than the mouth that's trailing kisses ever lower, ever closer to where he really needs it to be.

No matter how close their bodies are, Mamoru wishes they could be closer still. He wishes for them to be one being. Never apart.


Kiss me, Kunzite.

And it's suddenly not a request anymore. He cannot possibly just ask Kunzite to do anything, even though he's his loyal guardian. No, now he's reduced to begging, pleading, clawing at the other man.. And he shakes with anticipation that borders on fear. Kunzite is dominating him completely. Mamoru never imagined he'd want to be hurt as badly as he does when Kunzite is near him.

More than once, Mamoru has been in a crowded room, only to feel a presence behind him, and hands clamp down on his shoulders. And he feels himself grow weak-kneed at just the thought of what's coming later.

He knows by now to either submit peacefully, or be left with bruises that will last all week. He picks the latter option every time. And when he's with one of the others and they see those marks, he knows it's Kunzite's way of branding what's his. Of showing he was here first and the others had better not forget that.

He asks for Kunzite to kiss him and one hand is at the back of his head, tugging at his hair painfully, moving him to where Kunzite wants

And Kunzite gives him that look. That dark, controlling smirk that shows he knows his prince all too well. The one that reduces his inside to nothing and his knees go weak in mere seconds.

"Ask me again. Nicely, my Prince."

And he does whatever he's told because he needs this more than the air he's struggling to breathe as a hand tightens on his throat.


Kiss me, Usagi.

...And it's nice...Just...nice.