note: late, but written for chosoyuki week, day 4, prompt: family | drunk.

title from "After Opening the New York Times, I Wonder How To Write a Poem About Love" by Camille T. Dungy

-o-

Choso had a basic understanding of what they were supposed to be doing. Beforehand, Yuki had said to him: "Tengan is going to make a fake bar for us and we're going to dress super nice and talk and drink." And when Choso stated that they always talked and always drank, so why are they going through all the extra trouble, Yuki responded: "Because this is a special type of drinking — I still can't believe you've never had any alcohol before ever — and also because I miss spending nights like that. And also because you've never gone on a date before and you should get to know what it's like to do what humans do."

However, even though Yuki had explained to him what they were doing in theory, he felt like he didn't actually understand it. At least, based on Yuki's short description, during a date, it didn't sound like he was supposed to cry.

So, his tears were drying and Yuki was looking at him. Calling it a stare was too harsh, but it was a new look. Or, not new, per say, but different. He'd seen it a couple times before: when they were first alone after deciding to guard Tengen, when they sparred and she gave him a bloody nose, when he stripped down to a bare chest before bed. Those eyes, intense. Steady.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't think that'd happen."

Yuki blinked and took another shot of soju. "Crying's part of being human."

"You're being nice."

"I'm serious."

Tengen had taken their leave, so it was just Choso and Yuki. The alcohol in Choso's system made him feel light, vulnerable.

"You know," Yuki said. "I didn't take you to be a family man when we first met."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just didn't seem to be the type. Very punk. Not that I'm complaining, of course. I like how dedicated you seem — are. I always liked my men hardworking."

Choso took another shot of the soju. It tasted sweet. He wondered if Yuki's mouth would taste sweet like it, but forced the thought down.

"Is that your type?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"When we first met, you asked me what my type was. I never asked you yours. Is a hardworking man your type?"

She smiled. He couldn't tell what the emotion behind it was. "It is, yeah."

It was the liquor affecting him. It had to be. She was so beautiful. Yuki was the only human he had spent an extended amount of time with — Tengen technically was, but not really, the centuries making them someone else. Yuki was a human, but from the way she and Tengen talked, she was considered a monster of a woman in the jujutsu world. And Choso — half human, half demon. His fellow death paintings — more demon than human. His only living sibling, Yuji — more human than demon. (He didn't want to think about the family the body Mahito gave him might have. If it had a wife, a child; if its mother was still alive, if its father was better than his, if it had brothers too. Better not to think about it, he had so much guilt already and —)

What a trio they were. What a woman Yuki was.

The intense look in her eyes had returned. He found himself leaning in and stopped himself. She hadn't moved, her smile still there.

"How does that make you feel?"she asked. "Me admitting that you're my type."

"I want to kiss you."

Yuki did taste like soju. Choso chased it and the softness of her lips. His hand threaded through the silk of her pale hair and cupped the back of her neck. His body seemed to kiss on its own, as if guided through muscle memory, but that didn't change how new the sensation felt to him.

"Wait, Choso," she murmured. "Are you drunk?"

It was a rush, the warmth of her mouth and skin. He wanted to get lost in it, in her, but she pulled further away.

"Are you drunk?"she repeated. "Can you stand on your own? This is your first time drinking, I don't know how much you can take. I don't want to continue if you are."

"Please don't stop kissing me."

"Then stand."

He did so, long enough so that she could see he was steady and at her small nod, moved his bar stool, pulled her backwards with him, then pinned her to the wall. She tilted her head into a laugh. His lips met the corner of her smile.

"Okay, got it, not too drunk." Choso didn't understand her laugh. He didn't need to. "You can touch me more though."

"Hm?"

Yuki grabbed his right hand, which rested by her head, and brought it to her soft breast.

"You can touch me here," she said.

Then, she grabbed his left, which had cradled her neck and cheek, and brought it to the curve of her ass. "And you can touch me here, too."

Instinctively, Choso pressed closer and Yuki slung her leg over his hip, pulling him in, so that his hips ground against her core. He was half-hard already and they'd barely even kissed. But that's what the days of sexual tension would do to someone. All of their days together blurred to Choso, but even he, a baby to an adult body and 150 years conscious, couldn't deny that there was something attractive about her. He couldn't deny that he had been sneaking glances at her, admiring her build, the way she fought, her hands, her mouth, her long legs and full breasts.

Speaking of which, he thumbed over her breast and she hummed, grinding against him. He repeated the action and she grinded again. Fuck, if she did not feel good, if the melody of her body didn't drive him wild with lust. Choso would need to use his cursed technique to not cum from the friction alone.

His lips kissed the soft skin of her jaw and then, her neck. Her pulse beat against him. A shaky exhale welcomed the hickey he left there.

Eventually, he drifted down her body, mouthing over the thin satiny fabric and his fingers hiked the long skirt of her dress up, trailing over her legs until goosebumps prickled up. "Where the hell'd you learn this, Kamo?"

He nipped her belly, his canine ripping the fabric of her dress. "Choso. Don't call me by my father's name."

"Choso," she breathed and he kissed where the satin rested over the nook where her pelvis and thigh met her sex. Yuki was warm, so warm, and breathing in distracting open-mouthed little exhales. When he brought her skirt up even further, he saw –

"You aren't wearing underwear?" Choso's tone was a question, but his sight confirmed it. He slid his arm underneath her leg and hiked it over his shoulder.

"Are you complaining?"

"No," he whispered. With his nose so close to her cunt, he could smell the familiar warmth of sex. (Familiar how, he didn't know, didn't want to think of the how because —) He wanted to taste Yuki, taste the smell of her, so he licked up between her folds and then swiped his nose down, then up. Gasping, she grabbed the hair on his head and bucked over his face.

His knuckles scraped over the wood when he pinned her hips to the wall. "Stay still," Choso ordered.

"I didn't expect the drinks to make you so demanding." Yuki's grip hadn't loosened on his hair, which was – fair, since he'd kept the bridge of his nose slipped under her, rubbing over that most sensitive portion of her. Somehow, he knew where that was – her blood concentrated in that area, that had to be how.

Hands still pinning her to the wall, he adjusted, so that his lips met her folds. Yuki's slick was drying over the bridge of his nose, but still some of it dripped down his cheeks. And when Choso's lips moved, it was like breathing, it was like he knew exactly what to do, how to move in such a way so as to tease her, how to make her drip down over his chin and down his neck, how to make the soft sounds and gasps in her throat a song. He shifted her hips for easier access and pulled her more firmly over his mouth. She moaned at the penetration of his tongue and gripped his hair tighter.

"God, Choso, please."

That begging… his dick ached with how hard he was. He slipped his right hand out from her hip, used his left to keep her still, and brought two fingers to join his tongue. He licked up over her, back up to her clitoris, and circled around that little button.

Yuki was gasping consistently now and it made him want to lose it. He hated how much his desire distracted him. Choso wanted his dick inside her; he wanted her around him. He wanted to fuck her against the wall, over the bar counter, in their futon. He wanted to make love to her like he hated her, wanted to fuck her like he had spent years wanting her rather than a week, wanted to like he had married her, like they'd have kids and grow old and die together. Choso wanted to fuck her – make love to her – like he was fully human, like he had the life his body might have once had.

Rather than do that, he activated his technique.

Rather than do that, he slid a third finger in and curved the three up into the spot he had noticed made her whine earlier. His tongue danced over her; his broad fingers filled her. Choso could almost stay there forever, with her cunt clenching around his fingers, as long as he knew his loved ones were safe.

Yuki let out one final gasping cry. Her leg, which had dug into his shoulder so hard that a bruise was forming, relaxed and she began to sink down. He pulled his fingers out of her and guided her fall.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Where the hell did you learn that?"

"Beginner's luck?"

"There's no way that's the first –" She stopped, then said: "Grab the bottles over there. And the napkins."

He did so, trying to ignore how the scent of her caked him and the way he was still desperately hard even with Flowing Red Scale active. He sank down to the ground next to her and handed the items to her. She handed him back the napkins.

"So you can clean your face?" she said, by way of explanation, and then took a sip from the beer bottle.

He cleaned what he could and she handed him the beer. He took a sip. It was an easy enough silence, even with Yuki's gaze on him.

"I didn't realize you were using your technique," she eventually said.

He blushed. "Only on myself." He took another sip. "I was getting distracted."

"In a good or bad way?" Her fingers grazed his own around the bottle.

"I wanted you so bad I couldn't focus on you."

The bottle clinks on the ground and she leans in. Her hand glides over his face, her thumb swiping over the horizontal line decorating his cheeks. Her eyes are heavy with desire, even as her hands are light with gentleness.

"Don't worry," she eventually said. "I'll make sure you get the attention you deserve. Think of this –" she gestures between them, the bottle in her hand. "- like a smoke break. We have all night."

"A smoke break?" The phrase confused Choso, but that emotion washed away as soon as Yuki sank onto his lap.

"Just trust me." She smiled. It was sad, he realized. "If you're planning on dying, then we're going to act like normal people tonight. And this –" She gestures around them and then to his lap. "- Is what normal people get up to."

Yuki leans in close, her lips barely away from his mouth, her hips deliciously heavy over his own. "Tengen promised us one night of this. I plan to take full advantage."

Choso realized he was fine with that. For her, he could act human for just one night.

-o-

note: first time writing for jjk and chosoyuki – i hope i got their voices right!

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