Seven Deadly Sins [Part 2]
Title(s): Luxuria
Author: julia_dreamer
Fandom(s): Naruto
Pairing(s): Zabuza/Haku
Length: 1007 words
Summary: Lust, noun - intense sexual desire or appetite.
Note: WARNINGS: Underaged, at least in the beginning. Whoops.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
It is only a job, no more than anything has ever been. Haku has taken missions without him before, and will again if they are to continue living as they do. Zabuza tries not to become uneasy as he waits for the boy to leave. He has no job until morning; jobs at night are like this, and he has never allowed Haku to take one before, but tonight he has no say in it. Their employer demands, and so to be paid for all their work he must allow this one thing.
He seriously considers forfeiting that three months’ pay when Haku steps out of his bedroom.
The kimono is black as night and looks to be just as heavy. The landscape painted along the hem, sloping upward across the bottom of one sleeve, suggests a quiet snow-covered hillside. The opposite sleeve has but one adornment, a single white crane in flight. The obi is a slash of color - bright red with delicate little cherry blossoms picked out in gold thread - wound just tight enough to give a more feminine shape, although the boy doesn’t really need the help. He’s swept his hair up into a loose bun, no trailing bangs to frame his face tonight, and a single silk flower trailing petals down from his temple. He did not paint his face - there is only a hint of red to his lips, the slight underscore of kohl around his eyes - but then, he is so beautiful already.
Haku does not look at his master as he leaves their small apartment. He does not dare.
--
Fourteen years old and oh so eager to please, a pretty little boy with a sweet little smile, naive as ever. Haku is bolder now that Zabuza suspected he would be, lingering outside the bathroom door when he knows his master is done with the shower, catching his hand to hold when they walk together. But he blushes brightly after their mission, when Zabuza strips him down to check the little cuts and scratches on his pale skin.
It’s his duty to teach the boy, isn’t it, so he lays Haku down on the bed and shows him. Their fingers thread together, encircling his innocent cock, and it isn’t long at all before the boy is gasping, warm wetness spilling over their entwined fingers to pool on his stomach.
--
There has never been a night so long. Zabuza attempts to convince himself that it is nothing, that he should go to sleep and ignore it, because Haku will be back before morning. But he finds he cannot rest, cannot sit still, cannot stop pacing the floor.
Cannot remove the image from his head.
He’s seen Haku dressed up before, though never quite like this, but it’s hardly ever affected him. It might be jealousy - another man sits with the boy tonight, buys him sake and laughs at his charming little jokes, takes him back to a quiet hotel room to--
Bleed all over the floor, in all likelihood, he reminds himself sharply. No sweet caresses for that man, only a swift death.
But Haku is meticulous. When he slips back through their door at the break of dawn, not a single drop of blood stains him or his clothes.
--
It takes him until fifteen to convince Zabuza that they should do more than that, that he wants to be touched by him that way and it isn’t taking advantage. And Zabuza doesn’t really hesitate to give the boy what he’s asking for, because now that Haku is really asking he finds that he can’t justify saying no, not when he wants it so badly.
And he offers it so freely too, begs to be allowed to touch his master, begs to be kissed, begs to be fucked - only he doesn’t say it like that, no, only pretty words fall from those soft, kiss-swollen lips, and Zabuza can’t help but give in.
It’s probably wrong but it doesn’t feel that way, and he never tries to deny how much he wants it again.
--
He lets Haku remove the kimono himself.
He might have tried, but it would not have been the graceful little show it is if he had done it. The picture comes apart in pieces - Haku’s hair falls down around his shoulders, the obi loosens, ties and heavy fabric slowly removed and just as slowly put away until he stands in only a slip, and only then does Zabuza get up from his chair in the corner and take the boy in his arms, pressing hot possessive kisses to that delicate mouth. The boy is used to this treatment, welcomes it, molds himself eagerly against his master’s body.
What comes next is predictable - the last bit of fabric that veils porcelain skin is removed without ceremony, Zabuza’s own clothes discarded easily as he spreads the boy out on their bed, warm kisses and breathy moans. Haku submits to him happily, eagerly, arches wantonly into him, moans his name - honorifics finally dropped, here in this most private of moments - as knife-sharp teeth sink into unmarred skin where neck meets shoulder. This bite is deeper than any he’s received before, one that will surely scar. One that will surely mark him as possessed, claimed, owned.
Haku screams when he comes, beautiful body tensing, but that’s not what does it. No, it’s after he’s caught his breath, when he’s making that little hitched noise at every thrust, when he reaches up to thread his fingers through Zabuza’s short hair and his soft lips barely brush his ear as he whispers “please...” in that delicate, needy voice. That’s what pushes him over the edge.
It’s desire, he thinks, rolling to the side and easily sliding an arm around Haku’s waist, pulling the boy tight against himself. It can’t be anything more than that.
( Part 3)
Author: julia_dreamer
Fandom(s): Naruto
Pairing(s): Zabuza/Haku
Length: 1007 words
Summary: Lust, noun - intense sexual desire or appetite.
Note: WARNINGS: Underaged, at least in the beginning. Whoops.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
It is only a job, no more than anything has ever been. Haku has taken missions without him before, and will again if they are to continue living as they do. Zabuza tries not to become uneasy as he waits for the boy to leave. He has no job until morning; jobs at night are like this, and he has never allowed Haku to take one before, but tonight he has no say in it. Their employer demands, and so to be paid for all their work he must allow this one thing.
He seriously considers forfeiting that three months’ pay when Haku steps out of his bedroom.
The kimono is black as night and looks to be just as heavy. The landscape painted along the hem, sloping upward across the bottom of one sleeve, suggests a quiet snow-covered hillside. The opposite sleeve has but one adornment, a single white crane in flight. The obi is a slash of color - bright red with delicate little cherry blossoms picked out in gold thread - wound just tight enough to give a more feminine shape, although the boy doesn’t really need the help. He’s swept his hair up into a loose bun, no trailing bangs to frame his face tonight, and a single silk flower trailing petals down from his temple. He did not paint his face - there is only a hint of red to his lips, the slight underscore of kohl around his eyes - but then, he is so beautiful already.
Haku does not look at his master as he leaves their small apartment. He does not dare.
--
Fourteen years old and oh so eager to please, a pretty little boy with a sweet little smile, naive as ever. Haku is bolder now that Zabuza suspected he would be, lingering outside the bathroom door when he knows his master is done with the shower, catching his hand to hold when they walk together. But he blushes brightly after their mission, when Zabuza strips him down to check the little cuts and scratches on his pale skin.
It’s his duty to teach the boy, isn’t it, so he lays Haku down on the bed and shows him. Their fingers thread together, encircling his innocent cock, and it isn’t long at all before the boy is gasping, warm wetness spilling over their entwined fingers to pool on his stomach.
--
There has never been a night so long. Zabuza attempts to convince himself that it is nothing, that he should go to sleep and ignore it, because Haku will be back before morning. But he finds he cannot rest, cannot sit still, cannot stop pacing the floor.
Cannot remove the image from his head.
He’s seen Haku dressed up before, though never quite like this, but it’s hardly ever affected him. It might be jealousy - another man sits with the boy tonight, buys him sake and laughs at his charming little jokes, takes him back to a quiet hotel room to--
Bleed all over the floor, in all likelihood, he reminds himself sharply. No sweet caresses for that man, only a swift death.
But Haku is meticulous. When he slips back through their door at the break of dawn, not a single drop of blood stains him or his clothes.
--
It takes him until fifteen to convince Zabuza that they should do more than that, that he wants to be touched by him that way and it isn’t taking advantage. And Zabuza doesn’t really hesitate to give the boy what he’s asking for, because now that Haku is really asking he finds that he can’t justify saying no, not when he wants it so badly.
And he offers it so freely too, begs to be allowed to touch his master, begs to be kissed, begs to be fucked - only he doesn’t say it like that, no, only pretty words fall from those soft, kiss-swollen lips, and Zabuza can’t help but give in.
It’s probably wrong but it doesn’t feel that way, and he never tries to deny how much he wants it again.
--
He lets Haku remove the kimono himself.
He might have tried, but it would not have been the graceful little show it is if he had done it. The picture comes apart in pieces - Haku’s hair falls down around his shoulders, the obi loosens, ties and heavy fabric slowly removed and just as slowly put away until he stands in only a slip, and only then does Zabuza get up from his chair in the corner and take the boy in his arms, pressing hot possessive kisses to that delicate mouth. The boy is used to this treatment, welcomes it, molds himself eagerly against his master’s body.
What comes next is predictable - the last bit of fabric that veils porcelain skin is removed without ceremony, Zabuza’s own clothes discarded easily as he spreads the boy out on their bed, warm kisses and breathy moans. Haku submits to him happily, eagerly, arches wantonly into him, moans his name - honorifics finally dropped, here in this most private of moments - as knife-sharp teeth sink into unmarred skin where neck meets shoulder. This bite is deeper than any he’s received before, one that will surely scar. One that will surely mark him as possessed, claimed, owned.
Haku screams when he comes, beautiful body tensing, but that’s not what does it. No, it’s after he’s caught his breath, when he’s making that little hitched noise at every thrust, when he reaches up to thread his fingers through Zabuza’s short hair and his soft lips barely brush his ear as he whispers “please...” in that delicate, needy voice. That’s what pushes him over the edge.
It’s desire, he thinks, rolling to the side and easily sliding an arm around Haku’s waist, pulling the boy tight against himself. It can’t be anything more than that.
( Part 3)