Title: Trust
Author: Vamp
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Tenpou x Konzen
Disclaimer: I don't own them, never will. They make too much noise, mess and trouble to keep all the time.
Summary: It's not what we say or even do, but the unspoken and unseen that truly touch us deep down.
Warnings: None other than the M/M sex you all crave.
Author's notes: This was a wonderful challenge to do, thank you.


I feel the stone walls shrink as the air swells, heavy with cracking, hidden emotion, a stormy anger barely held back from breaking point. It is fast approaching like a tidal wave, pushing scurrying lesser gods ahead of it for fear of drowning in the dangerous undertow. Their faces bleached white, eyes shut in silent pleas.

I step back against the cool stone and shelter my charge from the tempest about to reach us. To see him striding down the hall in front of me, my quivering charge curled up at my feet. Tall and straight-backed, his golden ponytail streaming like a flash of light frozen in the electrified air of a thunderstorm. His face a composed cold mask of indifference. But as he passed me, hidden within the cool centre of the storm, a brief glance catches my eyes.

Trust of the mind.

The storm passes us without a second glance back.

I like that Goku's hand sneaks into mine for a moment, I squeeze it in reassurance.

"It's ok. Looks like you're off the hook this time, scamp." Golden eyes look up and a smile follows like the sun breaking through the storm clouds.

"He looked real mad."

"Yes he did. But I'm sure he will have calmed down before it's bed time." My own smile reassures the small boy trapped between me and the wall, then we step back now that the danger has past us by. We remain unscathed by the storm. Not that Konzen would ever hurt the creature that had been placed in his benevolent care.

"Hey kids, what's shaking, did you see Konzen sweep past? What is his problem-rag week again?" The owner of the amused tone swaggers up, thumbs casually hooked in his belt loops. Leaning on the wall Goku was still crouched by, Kenren's hand slips down, ruffling the kid's wild hair in a fond way.

His eyes ask me the question, "What did the chibi do now?" To which I just shake my head in a negative fashion as his answer. Surprise blossoms for a moment.

"Kenren would you take our little friend on a very important mission for me? " I lean ever so slightly to the other side of Goku. My eyes look to the General, who has a sneaky glint in his eye.

"Sure, what do you have in mind Tenpou? Damsels in distress, a raiding party?" He looks eagerly at me and then down at the now-confused boy.

"It's a little of both. I hear that prince Nataku is going to make an attack on the kitchens and I need good, trusted men to help defend them." It's hard to keep the playfulness out my voice.

"Nataku!" Goku squeaks, jumping up, full of life.

"Shush," both Kenren and I hush the boy in unison.

"It's a stealth mission," I add quickly, patting my friend on the shoulder as they move off, Goku talking a mile a minute about how he will defend all the meat buns from the terror of the great war prince.

"They should be safe stuffed in your belly." Kenren's voice floats back to my ears.

I move off in the same direction as my beloved tempest had been headed.


I shut the door softly and latch it for extra privacy, not that I expect anyone to come looking for the renowned 'bitch god'. Violet eyes look up from under loose strands of finest spun gold. The unspoken trust of the heart there in how they lighten as he glances over my usual dishevelled appearance as I lean casually against the door I just shut. He buys time needlessly tidying the stacks of papers on his desk.

"Who's got the monkey?" The words seem cold, outwardly harsh when spoken to me, but I ignore them. What he's really asking is'what have you cooked up now!' I watch his hand momentary tighten on a scroll of parchment and then absently sooth it flat.

"Kenren and Goku are going to be in the kitchens for a while." Silence reigns in the lushly furnished office.

His paper-pushing delay now complete, I now perch on the edge of the large flat surface that Konzen is seated behind.

"How do you feel about this?" The question is mostly rhetorical for I know what my sun-haired god likes. He's as easy for me to read as one of my beloved books scattered about my rooms.

His face softens in slow stages as I let my fingers trace the stray strands down one cheek and then tuck them back in place with the rest. I am slow and straight-forward, little needs to be said that is not already being conveyed in silent conversation. This is how I won my cherished place within his arms.

A soft sigh comes from my friend as he tilts his head into my battle-scarred hand. It pets such a feminine face, one that so many others have tried to woo as if he were a girl. Not me, I can see past the shining sparkle reflected off Konzen's icy armour to the man below.

"Take them off." It sounds like an order but I hear the slight plea.

'I need to feel your touch now.'

I don't take long in shedding my clothes to the floor in a messy heap before leaning forward to slowly undress my captive audience. He moans at my new tactic of first kissing each article before I remove it to the desk beside me. His impatient fingers start tugging on my hair to try and make me speed up. All I do to Konzen's unspoken command is smile openly, calculating the reactions I see in the blond man. We walk a fine line and I have to plan any games very carefully as not to scare my ice king or shatter him by moving too fast.

Butterfly kisses on his navel brings forth a shiver I swear runs all the way through his body, making his back arch slightly.


This time I do not indulge his whim. Goku and Kenren will be back and Konzen expects, no, trusts me to be finished by then. We both know that at another time we can linger over each other, even add a little more kink. The first time he let me tie his hands was just three months and five days ago. The day we first kissed was ten months and twenty days.

Reaching around into the top drawer, my questing fingers easily locate a small stone container. I offer my treasure up to the warmth before me. Ice now melted, and Konzen has become a smouldering inferno. A wild fire, just about to catch hold of the tinder-dry brush-wood. His pulsing cock, twitches as it firms under my caring touch. Not even the cool, slick, salve from the pot makes a difference to the blood rushing to fill the desire I can see in the eyes looking across at me. I am quick in preparing him to enter me, his fingers already easing out the plug nestled between my cheeks.

Trust of the body.

His breathing quickens as things speed up a little.

I turn around to lean over the wood that has seen more than one of our couplings. Each time we grow, each time I feel the bonds between us strengthen, how can they not? He has entrusted me with so much. Just one slip would bring this house of cards tumbling down around us. I feel him push in, soft and slow like a lover should. But he is so hot; his warmth seems intent on scorching my body from the inside. I crave that feeling, no toy or other can sear me like his hard cock deeply buried within my tight ass.

I don't need to see his face to know the kindling has caught, the fast pace tells me how much he needs this. The help only I seem able to give him. Words come slow and at almost a whisper barely audible above the sound of flesh against sweat-slicked flesh. They are not for me, so I pay them no heed. For a god with such a foul temper, Konzen can be suprisingly gentle. He is close, my forest-fire god. Pounding my ass, forcing my sex further into the tight tunnel my hand makes. Delight at each trust has me panting for control to last a little longer.

Slender fingers trace molten lines around my rock-hard nipples--pinching, rolling--and more words spill into my long dark hair, followed by kisses.

I can tell by the roar of 'Homura' behind me that is also echoed in its intensity by flowing hot lava now entering my body, Konzen is spent. Still he moves in and out of me at a slightly less manic pace, slowly letting the embers of lust blow away on the wind of exertion.

My own balls tighten just before white-hot light bursts behind my closed eyes and I am spilling over my fingers on to the polished wood below.

We detangle from each other, breathing hard, eyes averted to stop any more unnecessary pain to the other as the few moments lovers feel turn into centuries.

He draws back his shoulders as he stands, giving me space.

'Ready?' is the unspoken query. I just lift my fingers to lick them clean, my taste sharp like moonlight from a new moon. Konzen dresses, not a wrinkle or ripple out of place and I return back to my dishevelled former self, leaning against the desk.


He raises an arched brow.


Walking to the door I feel the cold wind gather, the promise of snow tingeing the air. Konzen's mask is firmly back in place, the room straight, and my little puddle vanished from the cosmos. There it is again--a look I will treasure, that and the fragile unspoken word that binds us together.

Trust of the mind: you will not say inappropriate things ever.
Trust of the body: you know my limits and will break no boundary.
Trust of the heart: it's not mine to give, nor yours to demand.
In giving you my trust I give you my soul.

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