.

.

The place where Bishamon cut him was a jagged scar; of all her shinki, Kazuma ironically was best suited to take over Kugaha's work, but since he was incapacitated, it fell to Akiha and Kuraha to clumsily cut off his clothes and try to stitch him back together. The result was a raised, red scar that was firm and rubbery to the touch, like someone had slapped on a plastic cord and glued it like a sash across Kazuma's body. In some areas, the skin puckered where the stitches were sewn too tight, while in others fine white lines criss-crossed the areas of overgrown tissue.

It was a miracle Bishamon didn't kill him. But then again, Saiki had been corrupted and dull, and Bishamon's reflexes were such that she was able to pull back at just the last second. Seeing it still made her feel guilty, though, and every time he unbuttoned his shirt she would press her lips reverently against the mark.

It was dark in the bedroom, and everything was quiet except for the rustle of the bedsheets and the soft wet sounds of kissing and heavy breathing. Bishamon had rolled Kazuma onto his back, and was gently kissing the side of his neck and jugular. With one hand, she started undoing the buttons of his shirt, dropping soft kisses along the line of exposed skin. He sighed, softly. She rocked against him, grinding down against his erection and rubbing her mouth against his collarbone.

She leaned back and pulled off her shirt with one graceful motion, before reaching down to undo the buckle to his belt. He was so hard his erection was poking out of the waistband of his pants, and impulsively she bobbed her head forward and took him into her mouth. He cried out, softly. There was a slick wetness beading around the head.

She moved upwards, leaning over his body. He still had his shirt and pants on, but he slid into her easily. The belt clanked a little with the movement, and she felt the fabric bunching up beneath her thighs.

She leaned back to look at her handiwork. Kazuma's shirt was unbuttoned but splayed open, and there was a rectangle of bare skin, which extended from the sharp lines of his collarbones to the dark shadow of his pelvis. The scar cut across diagonally, extending out from beneath the right shoulder of his shirt and cutting a jagged path toward the crest of his left hip bone. She rocked her hips, grinding her clit against his body and relishing the sliding fullness, before dipping down to kiss him hard on the mouth.

"Veena, wait." He breathed hard through his nose. "Let me get my clothes off."

She pulled back and nodded. "Okay."

He shirt was tangled up around his arms; he yanked it back clumsily, then moved to quickly tug off his pants. His pants fell with a thud on the floor - there were still things in his pocket and the belt was heavy. He was still wearing his glasses and socks.

"You look ridiculous," Bishamon said, smiling. He was leaning over her, guiding her so her back was against the bed. He took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand.

"Better?"

"Your socks are still on."

"They won't get in the way."

She swatted him on the shoulder. "Take them off."

He smiled again, and promptly ignored her, pressing the blunt head of his cock against her entrance.

"You know," she said, as he pushed up into her with one smooth stroke. "If someone were to walk in on us, the first thing they'd see is your bare bottom and your socks."

"Somehow I doubt they would be looking at me," Kazuma said.

She gasped and he bent forward to kiss her, thrusting hard and wrapping his arms around her back. He breathed hard through his nose, then broke away, panting open-mouthed and stroking in and out.

"Damn it," he said, and banged the mattress, frustrated.

"What is it, what's wrong?" Bishamon said.

"Yugiha and the twins are coming toward the door."

"Again?" Bishamon said, but Kazuma sighed and pulled out from inside her.

Bishamon banged her head against the mattress. Kazuma was already pulling on his clothes, giving her an apologetic look.

"They're probably going to tell us Yato is sneaking in the courtyard," Kazuma said.

"What?!"

"Ane-sama." Knocking on the door, right on cue. "Ane-sama, please, wake up! There's been a breach in our security!"

Bishamon threw a glance at Kazuma, who was already completely dressed and was looking as if he were giving her a one-on-one report.

Bishamon yanked on her robe as Kazuma answered the door.

Outside, Yugiha rapped his knuckles against the door as Karuha and Kazuha stood behind him, nervously. "Ane-sama?" Yugiha knocked again. "Ane-sama, please wake up! There's been a security breach and we couldn't find Kazuma-san-"

The door opened. Yugiha stepped back, startled.

"Yugiha," Kazuma said. "Karuha. Kazuha."

"O-oh! Kazuma-san! Y-you're already here." Yugiha fidgeted. The twins glanced at each other, confused.

"If this is about Yato siphoning water from our grotto, we're already aware of it." Kazuma's voice was measured. Authoritative, as if he had strolled into Bishamon's room just a few moments ago to tell her this earlier, himself. "I've already let Bishamon-sama know and appropriate measures are already being taken."

"Leave it to Kazuma-san!" Kuraha pumped her fist. "I told you, Yugiha, Kazuma-san was already telling Ane-sama."

"B-but, I was the one on night duty tonight, and-"

"It's alright," Kazuma said, kindly. "I'm glad you were on the lookout."

Bishamon watched as he dismissed them with a nod, before turning to shut the door.

"I don't suppose you want to pick up where we left off?" Kazuma said. Bishamon glared.

"What the hell is Yato doing in our courtyard?"

"As I said earlier, he's siphoning holy water from the grotto. He's actually been at this for about an hour, now."

"And you haven't told me about this, why?"

"Because," Kazuma hesitated. "Because we were, ah, busy. With more important things."

Bishamon sighed and rubbed her head. "I suppose I don't really care," Bishamon said.

"Are you angry?" Kazuma said.

"I'm aroused and frustrated, Kazuma. But I'm not angry." She held her arms out toward him.

"Er- Yugiha is walking back."

"Oh for the love of-"

Frantic knocking on the door.

"Kazuma-san!" Yugiha's voice was panicked. "Kazuma-san! The Yatogami fell into our grotto!"

"I'll take care of it," Kazuma said. Bishamon huffed and rolled over.

xXx

.

Yato was drinking a beer and bathing in Veena's spring when Kazuma stepped forward.

"Yato. What the hell do you think you're doing?" Kazuma said.

"Whoa, Kazuma. You look pissed," Yato said.

"What are you doing here? Where is Yukine? Why aren't you back at home?"

"Ah, I kinda got smushed by a phantom." Yato raised his arm and showed him the blight. "Kofuku's bathwater is frickin freezing, and since we were neighbors, I just thought-"

"You just thought trespassing on our property would be the most prudent course of action?"

"Whoa. You really are pissed," Yato said. "What's with the face, Kazuma? Did I interrupt your makeout session or something?" Kazuma's eyes narrowed.

"Oh crap!" Yato said. "I did!" Kazuma sighed, tragically.

"Be that as it may, Yato. You really shouldn't be trespassing on Veena's grounds. If you catch her in the wrong mood, she'll be liable to do you serious bodily harm."

"I bet you want her to do you some serious bodily harm," Yato said.

"Yato-"

"Kidding!" Yato said. "Geez, Kazuma, lighten up. What's the matter with you, anyway? You're even more uptight than usual."

"My apologies, Yato," Kazuma sighed. "It's just that lately Veena and I have been having difficulty finding a little privacy."

"Well why dontcha just lock the door?" Yato said.

"It's not that simple," Kazuma said.

"Yo Kazuma. You know, Kofuku and Daikoku have this system where she puts a sock on the doorknob when they're doing it. Maybe you and the nympho can do something similar?"

"Put a sock over the doorknob?"

"Yeah. You know, 'Getting Laid. Do Not Disturb.'"

"I doubt Veena would approve of something so crass." Kazuma sighed, heavily. "It's just the last few times we've tried to be intimate, we're always interrupted. I don't want to be petty, but it's unbelievably frustrating to be mid-coitus and then having to stop because someone has broken into our grotto."

"Mid-coitus?" Yato echoed. He rubbed his neck. "Wow, my bad."

They stared at each other, silently.

"Isn't your junk really sticky right now?" Yato said.

"Dammit, Yato-"

"Don't get all embarrassed, Kazuma! I was just wonderin'- it's not like you had time to stop and take a shower!"

"I wiped," Kazuma said, acidly. Yato raised his hands.

"Don't get pissed, it was a legitimate question!"

"Goodnight, Yato."

"Yo, I can still bathe here, right?"

"I said goodnight."

Kazuma stalked back to the bedroom. Veena was already asleep. Quietly, he showered and cleaned himself, before slipping under the covers next her.

"Was that Yato?" Her voice was thick with sleep.

"It was." He tucked his face into her shoulder, hugging his arm across her torso. "He was blighted by a phantom."

"Mm." She was already falling asleep. He felt her breathing deepen.

Early morning, just before the sun rose, he felt her nudging her chin against his chest. Somehow during the night they had shifted positions so that she was lying on top of him.

Morning sex was quick but reliable sex; he was always hard in the mornings and she had always taken that as an invitation, and though he preferred to be kissed and held and slowly inch their way toward lovemaking, in the mornings they didn't have the luxury of time. She kissed his jaw and shifted her nightgown, while he dutifully lifted his hips and slid down his pants.

She started on top, but soon enough he rolled her onto her back and pumped mindlessly. She felt warm and good and he came quickly, his breathing harsh and ragged. Wordlessly he lowered himself to finish her off, mouthing her clit as her wetness smearing messily against his jaw and chin.

The sun wasn't out yet; usually when they finished, it would be time to get up and get dressed and head to another meeting, or else split up and go about their work before reconvening for a mid-morning briefing. But it was early now, and after they cleaned themselves they sank back into bed. They still had a few more hours before needing to get up.

"Veena?"

"Hm?"

"What do you think about taking the day off?"

Bishamon rolled over to look at him. "Aren't we meeting about the branch shrines today?"

"It can be postponed." He traced a circle on her shoulder, thoughtfully. "We're caught up on all our documentation for the week."

"What about our patrol? It's too short notice to have another war god cover for me."

"We can ask Yato," Kazuma said.

"Ugh," Bishamon said.

"You know he has the time. I'm sure if I gave him five yen, he'd happily take our request."

"But our territory is huge. And it's just the two of them."

"Yukine is a very capable guide. They can manage, I assure you."

Bishamon looked at him, thoughtfully.

"You know, you've never asked for a day off, not in all the years we've been together."

"I just want to spend more time with you," Kazuma said. She smiled.

"You just want to make love to me without being interrupted."

"Well, that too." He smiled, shyly.

"Okay," she said.

"Really?"

"Really." She cuddled against him. "Ask Yato if he would cover tomorrow's shift, too. We can make a long weekend of it. He owes me for using my grotto."

xXx

.

The spring Kazuma took Veena to was secluded, hidden within a bamboo grove. Each room was equipped with a private outdoor bath, and the rooms themselves were simple, with sliding rice paper doors and tatami mats.

"This makes me nostalgic," Veena said. She looked around the room, smiling.

"Nostalgic?" Kazuma set down their bags in the corner.

"Remember the time when all houses looked like this?" She sat beside him, leaning against his shoulder. "I remember sharing the futon with you, when it was just the two of us."

"I remember that," Kazuma said. She was lonely then, and still grieving. He thought it best not to remind her, though.

"When was it that you decided to stop sleeping in my bed?" Veena said. "Was it a decade? A century?"

"Three decades," Kazuma said. "Thirty-five years, to be exact. You named your first shinki five years into the fourth."

"I missed sleeping next to you, you know," Veena said. Kazuma smiled and pressed a kiss behind her ear.

They kissed. Tenderly, he leaned her backwards so she was lying on the futon, kissing her gently and carefully unbuttoning the front of her shirt.

They never had time to take things slowly, so now he relished the feel of her body beneath his hands. In the dark, he unwrapped her like a present, untangling her arms and legs and peeling back the layers of her clothes. His mouth latched onto the side of her breast and climbed up to her nipple, like a vine. He laved her gently, prodding the tip of her nipple with his tongue.

Her breathing was pleasured, heavy, when he pulled off the rest of his clothes and kissed her full on the mouth. Quietly he dragged his hand down her leg and gently coaxed her knees apart, tracing little circles along her inner thigh that drew in closer and closer. Her breath hitched when he made contact - the pad of his middle finger stroking along her clit.

Her body arched. Her pelvis ground against his hand. Gently he slipped his fingers inside her and fingered her gently, rotating his wrist and curling his fingers toward her navel. The muscles in her legs tightened. He circled her throbbing clit with slippery fingers.

He kneaded her breast with his other hand, palmed the soft fullness, gently rolling the pad of his thumb on her nipple. She moaned softly, tilting her pelvis up to grind against his fingers. He kissed the side of her hip, reverently.

"Kazuma," she said. Her voice was a breathy whisper. "Will you...go down on me?"

His lips tugged in the faintest trace of a smile. "I was about to."

He closed his mouth over her, then gently sucked on the fleshy nub.

She gasped and threw her hand back, grabbing the bedsheet in a tight fist and arching against his mouth.

He licked her slowly and painstakingly, sucking lightly and kissing her wet, pink lips. His mouth and chin were sloppy with saliva and fluids. He licked and suckled and tasted salt.

A suck. A soft, prodding motion. Another suck. Her hips were rocking in time with his ministrations, her muscles tensing beneath his hands. A suck. Her breathing tightened. Her hands fisted the bedsheets. A suck. An audible groan as he flicked his tongue over the tender nub. A suck. A growing, crescendoing moan.

She pitched forward, jerking involuntarily. Her body spasmed; her toes curled. She made a soft, helpless sound, then fell back onto the futon, tangles of damp hair sticking to her skin.

Carefully, he moved between the soft flesh of her thighs and positioned himself at her entrance. He pressed his hips forward until just the head entered her, his body parallel to hers, before sinking all the way inside her.

She quivered. He pressed a kiss against her jaw and moved with needy, lengthy strokes. She arched her hips and he pulled her legs over his shoulders, bending forward and thrusting deeper.

Pleasure built, gathering in his cock, in the feel of her around him, hot and slick and yielding, the base of his cock sliding against her clit with every stroke.

He moved faster, spurred by her heels digging against his back, and her hot mouth found the side of his jugular, sucking greedily. Her hair was pressed against his face, tangling in with the sheets and between his fingers, and as he pushed himself up on his arms for traction, her hair got knotted between the heels of his hands.

He came after one harsh thrust, cock pulsing and emptying inside her.

She came a few moments after he did, the contractions of her inner walls milking him, gently.

He was exhausted and happy, dropping heavily onto the side of the futon and resting his head against a pillow. Her lips pressed gently against his forehead and he smiled, tilting his head up by increments until his lips brushed against hers.