Ayato should have been suspicious the moment Itto's underlings paid him a visit. They look out of place at the Kamisato Estate, but, because Ayato is a gracious host, he treats them to an audience.

"Miss Shinobu," he greets with false sweetness.

She winces. "Ah, Lord Kamisato. I—"

"Have demanded an audience, haven't you? You're lucky that I owed you a favor. Usually, your antics aren't worth much to me."

"Ah, about that," she starts.

"It's about Itto," cuts in Ushi, lacking any and all manners.

Ayato overlooks his transgression, far more interested in their plight now that a certain Oni is involved. "Itto?" he asks.

"The boss is in a bit of trouble."

This comes as no surprise, which is exactly what Ayato says. "Tell me a day when Itto isn't in trouble."

"Yeah, but he's actually been thrown in jail this time. Kujo Sara was relentless with her arrest today—"

"What did he do?"

Shinobu blinks, tilting her head to the side. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Call it curiosity." Ayato presses his fingers together and levels her with a cool look. "I assume that you came here for my help. So, explain."

She thinks, her brow furrowing, a line creasing in the middle of it. "Public indecency," she says slowly. "It wasn't his fault though—he got pantsed by some little gremlin in town and Kujo Sara just happened to turn the corner at the wrong time, and—"

"And you found it appropriate to come and bother me about it?"

The idea of it though—something simmers in Ayato's gut. Itto is a bit of an idiot but he's a handsome idiot, and Ayato isn't blind. Surely he's packing. A pity that he wasn't in town to see him because Ayato might've climbed Itto like a tree right there in the front square.

"Sir?" It's Ushi who cuts in, voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Hm?"

"Er, about the bail bond?"

Ayato's mouth curls into a devious grin which makes Shinobu squirm. "Oh, is that why you came to me? Tell me, Deputy—" He says the title sickly sweet, voice dripping in sarcasm. "—Why would I care?"

"I know you're friends with the boss," she deadpans. Straight to it, then.

Ayato's face falls the barest amount. "Perhaps I underestimated you—"

"It's nothing like that, you just aren't very good at hiding it." A pause, and though he can't see past her mask, Shinobu smiles. "The boss isn't the brightest candle around, though. He has no idea who you are."

"Yes, well, that is the appeal of our so-called beetle fighting." Itto is entertaining with his happy-go-lucky attitude, but really, it's the fact that he's too dim to realize just exactly who Ayato is. It's endearing in a way. Itto earnestly looks forward to the little games that they play.

Ayato, on the other hand, looks forward to watching those rippling muscles as Itto yells out utterly ridiculous catchphrases.

He taps his chin, regarding Shinobu with a shrewd gaze. "So, let me summarize: Itto was caught with his pants down—literally—and now you want me to bail him out. How high is the amount?"

"Let's just say Kujo Sara took the opportunity presented to her. She's been hounding Itto for months and finally dragged him in."

Very high, then, by the looks of it. Ayato sighs dramatically, making it look as though it's a massive ordeal. (It is not; Ayato will hardly miss the money, and he's fairly certain that he can work this ordeal in his favor). He waits long enough for Shinobu to squirm before saying, "Alright, I'll bite—but on one condition."

"Oh?"

"I go alone to get him." Shinobu's gaze narrows, but before she can reply, Ayato raises a hand. "Nothing unsavory, I assure you. He'll be in good hands. It's only easier if I'm the one to handle my money, no? Underlings with large sacks of Mora will draw suspicion, but I can pay people to turn a blind eye."

She knows that he has a point, judging from the way the top half of her face wrinkles. "It's not as though I have any other choice."

Shinobu doesn't even try to shake his hand, which Ayato will remember fondly in the future.

#

"So, let me get this straight." The prison guard pauses, scratching his cheek. "You're posting the bond for Arataki Itto—but you want some time alone with him?"

"A half-hour would suffice," says Ayato, his hands hiding deep in his sleeves. It's an estimation built entirely on uncouth, mildly lustful observations, not that the guardsman needs to know that.

"My Lord—"

"I do believe that my generous tip was meant for you to not ask questions of me."

The guard's mouth snaps shut and he stiffens. He still scratches at his cheek, thinking. "Er, Kujo Sara—"

"I outrank Miss Kujo Sara as the Lord of the Kamisato Estate, don't I?" Technically. It's a thin claim at best but Kujo Sara might be willing to concede to it if he gets caught.

"A half-hour, then," says the guard, sagging. "After that, I'm not responsible."

Ayato nods in the affirmative. "Now—which cell?"

#

Itto sits in his prison cell pathetically, leaning against the wall.

He perks up when the guard lets Ayato slip inside. They share a glance, the guard's head dipping before shutting the cell door and turning around the corner.

"Oh, thank Celestia. Bro, you have no idea—"

"Strip," says Ayato plainly.

Itto stops dead, his mouth parted wide. And then: "Er, why?"

"I've paid for your bail, so now, I'm reaping my reward. Now, take your clothes off."

Ayato sees the cogs they try and fail to turn in Itto's head. And it isn't that Itto's dumb, he's just got his head in the clouds. Doesn't think much past the moment. Adorable, really. Especially the way that he scrambles to his feet eagerly, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers.

"A new game?"

"Here? In a prison? Itto, what is two and two together?"

The response is delayed, but it's a firm-sounding, "Four."

"And what kinds of games are played in prisons?"

"Well, I was always told to not bend over in the showers—"

What an absurd thing to say as he drops his pants. Ayato stands there, watching with hungry eyes as Itto's trousers fall to the ground. And then he has a thought when Itto begins to pull at his leather harness.

"No, keep that on. But everything else—off with it."

"So, what're the rules?" Itto means it as a joke but Ayato can't help but play along. That's the thing about his cheerful idealism—it rubs off.

Ayato crosses the room, pressing a hand against Itto's sternum. His gaze is planted firmly on Itto's face, no matter how much he wants to look down. Not yet. All in due time. Ease him into it. Not that Itto won't do as he says; he's always been a good boy when it comes down to it.

"The game is simple, I suppose. I am bailing you out and therefore, you owe me something."

"Oh?" Itto raises a brow, his eyes dropping to where Ayato's hand rests.

"And the rules are easy to follow. First, we remove this." Ayato slips Itto's jacket off, tossing it to the ground. All that's left before him are gleaming, tan muscles that bulge with the subtlest of movements. Ayato's mouth goes dry as he just thinks about it, soaking up the sight that typically haunts his dreams instead.

"And?"

"You fuck me."

Itto rears back, surprised. He Watches Ayato with his mouth hanging open, flapping like a koi fish. "I—er—"

"Do you not want to?"

"No!" A pause. "No, I mean, not that I don't want to—"

Ayato's gaze falls half-lidded at that. "Oh?" he purrs, his mouth curving into a smirk. "So you want to?"

Itto's throat bobs as he swallows thickly. When Ayato presses against his sternum, he goes, falling back to the ground. He groans softly when Ayato settles over his thighs, dragging his nails down the meat of Itto's chest, teasing.

"Thought about it, have you?"

He must have. Ayato finally looks, taking in the sight of Itto's half-hard cock thickening between his thighs. "Markings, even here," he murmurs, dragging a finger down Itto's length. "And what's this?" A glinting metal piercing speared right through the slit.

"Bro." Itto squeaks it, his voice raspy and awkward. But not unwanting. No, no, it's clear as day that he's thought about this too.

"We don't have long," says Ayato. "I only paid the guard off for a half-hour, so we'll have to make this quick."

Ayato reaches up and latches Itto's wrist together, linking them to the bars. "Only temporarily," he says, eyes raking over Itto's now prone form. "Part of your punishment is that you don't get to touch."

"I didn't—"

"Oh, I heard exactly what happened." Ayato smiles at him, amused. "You got caught with your pants down."

"My dude—Oh, fuck."

Ayato doesn't think he's ever heard Itto curse before. He delights in Itto's pinched expression and the pink blush that's spread from his cheeks to his chest. He looks pained, almost. Must be because Ayato's wrapped a hand around his dick.

"Handsome," he says, testing the weight and girth of the cock in his hand. "Exactly what I imagined—though, it's hard to miss when you traipse around half-dressed."

Itto whines so prettily when Ayato jerks him once, and then twice, his hand too dry. But he's desperate enough to see out the friction nonetheless.

"Here is how this will go," says Ayato, letting go of him. Itto whines when he pulls back and off, divesting himself of his clothes. "I'm going to ride you until I'm satisfied, yes? Whether or not you finish is up to you. As I said, I've paid for so little time and we can easily continue this elsewhere, later on."

"No, I'm going to—You know what? You're on!"

Ayato regards him with interest. "Is that a challenge?" Because if it is, he's going to win. He's an expert at taking dick. "Oh, Itto, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into," he says once naked and settling over Itto once more.

Itto looks. He stares at him, eyes raking from top to bottom. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. And then again and again—then Itto moans.

Ayato's grasping his cock again, his long fingers barely reaching around the width of him. "Amazing," he says. "What a wonderful specimen. I think that we're going to have fun."

"Twenty minutes," says Itto.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's been about ten minutes since you stepped in here and you've spent most of it yapping."

It seems that Itto has a better attention span than anticipated. "If you can still speak then I'm doing a poor job, aren't I?"

Itto has the gall to shoot him a cocky look. "Aren't you the one who said it's up to me to come? Do your worst."

What a goad. Ayato reaches out and flicks his nipple harshly. Itto jerks underneath him, hissing at the harsh sting. "You asked for it," he says to him, pinching it next, rolling the stiff nub tightly between a clenched forefinger and thumb.

"Oh, that's—"

Ayato jerks his cock, thumb over the tip. He plays with the piercing, observing it, marveling at its thickness, and the way that precome bubbles up around it. "So wet," mocks Ayato, spreading the thick slick around. His palm drags over the length, coaxing Itto to full hardness until it stands on its own, more than impressive in its initial presentation.

He is thankful he came prepared. And he says that to Itto as he rolls his hips against him. He slots their dicks together, the size of his own admirable, but pale in comparison.

"P-prepared?"

Ayato scoffs. "Of course." He pauses them, tilting his head. "What, are you disappointed? Would you have rather opened me up yourself? I enjoyed doing it earlier, pressing my fingers in deep. There's this toy—"

"I would've wanted to watch."

Ayato falls silent, not expecting Itto to play along. "Go on."

"Just that," says Itto, not remotely embarrassed. "I've had dreams. You're handsome. You'd look good with your fingers knuckle deep."

"I do believe that I've underestimated you, Itto. Who knew you had such a dirty mouth?" Ayato flicks Itto's nipple again which wins him another hiss.

"I've got eyes," mutters Itto, as though it should be obvious. And then: "Losing time here, bro. Better get on with it."

Ayato readjusts himself until the tip of Itto's dick is kissing his loose hole, still slick from his earlier play. Definitely the right decision, considering the haste he has to take. Itto is large enough that he knows it'll take some effort. And sure enough, the moment he sinks down, the breath from his chest is punched out right away.

"Oh," he whispers, his breath hitched. "Oh, you're—" Big, so, so big. Ayato uses gravity to help him fall, rolling his hips gently as he fucks lower and lower into Itto's thick cock.

"Shit," moans Itto. He wriggles against his binding. His legs tense, trying to hold back from bucking up into Ayato. "Celestia, you're—"

"I'm what?" Itto whines, a pitiful sound. He already looks gone, eyes hazy with want. "Go on," continues Ayato, "use your words."

"Tight. Too tight. Shit, hot too. Tight and hot, and slick—Gods, I really would've liked to watch you—" He chokes off a moan when Ayato bottoms out.

Itto's dick is so thick in his ass that Ayato swears that he can feel it in his throat. There must be a bulge and he presses a hand to his belly as though he might feel one. Itto whimpers as he watches. He thrusts his hips ever so slightly, just barely grinding.

Ayato tugs his nipple cruelly. "Did I say that you could move? This round isn't for you, it's for me. Consider it services rendered. Yes, I rather like that sound of that—"

"My Lord, you've got about ten minutes." The guard yells it from the hallway.

Ayato wastes no time, pulling his hips up and slamming them right down. Itto howls and Ayato manages to press a hand to his mouth, cutting it off. "None of that," he hisses, voice pitched low. "I've managed to get some time with you but certainly not for uncouth reasons."

Itto's breath is warm against his hand but he doesn't kick back.

"Be a good boy for me?" And oh, that does something. Itto's moans against his palm and his dick twitches in Ayato's ass.

It goes well. They move fantastically together once they find a rhythm. Ayato rides him relentlessly like the push and pull of a tide, and Itto doesn't just lay back and take it, he puts in a hard effort too. Despite his hands being bound high above his head, he moves, fucking up into Ayato's tight heat, his cock carving its way into his guts.

Fast and dirty. Satisfying enough—but not wholly. "We'll have to do this again," says Ayato, sweat beading along his brow. "On a night where I can truly ride you until you're bone-dry and useless."

"Bro, that's—" Itto moans, biting at his lip, cutting off whatever howl that threatens to loose.

The pleasure in Ayato's gut is like a flash fire; it spreads quickly, easily, and all through him. He fucks himself against Itto's cock, taking it deep, making sure that the tip drags across his prostate with every stroke. "Gods." He moans too, a more dignified sound than Itto's intense, guttural nonsense. "You are good, aren't you? In more ways than one. Are you going to come?"

"Yes, I'm—oh, shit, you feel good. Ayato."

Itto does not call him Ayato. He calls him Dude, Bro, or even Compadre at times. But never his first name, which is the first indicator that he's about to tip right over.

Ayato grabs his own cock, stroking it furiously. He rides Itto faster, the slick rise and fall of his hips slapping. Itto comes first, driving into his ass, spilling deep and all over his insides. And Ayato fucks him through it, forcing him to go taut with overstimulation.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck—Bro, I'm—"

Ayato tumbles over too, squirting come all over Itto's stomach, abs painted white with his thick, sticky spend. Itto groans, head falling back as he melts against the hard ground of the cell.

It is over as soon as it begins. "Hurry," says Ayato, pulling off of him, reaching up to undo his bindings. Uncaring of the mess that dribbles out of his ass and down his thighs—though he catches Itto's stare. "Later," he hisses.

Itto blinks, turning back to Ayato. "Later?"

"Don't you want a second roung? You always challenge me to a rematch." Celestia above, he sounds ridiculous. But Ayato is dick-starved enough that he's willing to make an utter fool of himself to appeal to this moron.

They trip into their clothing, righting them enough to look halfway decent. The guard knows, though. He's pink in the face as he leads them back to the foyer, shoving a bag of Itto's belongings into his hands. "I—yes, well, good day."

Ayato tugs him through the front door before Kujo Sara can turn the corner and demand that they stay.

And Itto goes, he tumbles after him, eager for the second round of debauched filth that he's been promised. Ayato thinks that perhaps they might have to consider a new arrangement when it comes to their games. He might be clever enough to come up with a strip version of beetle fighting. Maybe.

It isn't until they're nearly back to the estate that something dons on Itto. "Wait," he says, pulling Ayato to a halt. "How'd you pay for my bail?"

Right. For all his goofish charm, Itto isn't the most brilliant. Ayato reaches out and pats his cheek fondly. "You are quite lucky that you have a wonderful cock."

"Uh, thanks? I mean, like bro-to-bro, right? 'Cause yours isn't half bad. It's cute—"

"That's enough of that, Itto."