Chapter Text
It was the first time Genya’s older brother had allowed him to invite friends into their home, and it was shaping up to be everything his Nemi had warned him about.
He glanced down at the empty bottle of barley tea stretched out ominously between them, then up into Inosuke’s face. His brows were furrowed and he chewed on his bottom lip, deep in thought, before admitting—
“I saw people have sex a lot when I was little. My mom and a bunch of other girls. They were licking and sucking on each other’s boobs, and Leader was watching.”
“Lucky!” Zenitsu's mouth dropped. His cheeks turned pink when every other head in the room snapped in his direction. “What?” He scrambled to add, looking helplessly at Tanjiro. “I want to see. Wouldn’t you want to see? Tanjiro? Genya?”
Tanjiro turned a bright shade of crimson as he frowned and looked away from Zenitsu’s searching gaze. The yellow-haired boy turned to Genya, who quickly shook his head. That kind of thing didn’t interest him at all; it just sounded uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to think about it too hard.
Giving up on the other boys, Zenitsu heaved a long sigh and turned to Inosuke. “Well, did you like what you saw?”
“They were all acting weird.” Inosuke shrugged, scratching his head and poking the bottle with all ten of his bare toes. “All gasping and wriggling like earthworms. They were really wet, too.”
“Well yeah.” Zenitsu glanced from the bottle to Inosuke’s face. “They were probably really turned on, you know. That’s what happens when girls get turned on.”
“It’s weird.” Inosuke shrugged again.
“You’re hopeless.” Zenitsu rolled his eyes. He turned to Genya again, and Genya awkwardly shrank from his gaze. He pressed his legs together and tugged his futon cover over his waist. He didn’t think the other boys knew about him, but all this talk about ‘girls’ getting wet struck a little too close to the truth for Genya’s liking.
As their conversation had turned more adult, his body had started to react. He wasn’t used to people talking so blatantly about sex, and with every confession, the slickness between his lips had gotten more persistent.
Inosuke kicked the bottle, and it spun around until its white cap pointed at Zenitsu. The yellow-haired boy froze, the grin vanishing from his lips. He stammered slightly, tugging on the corner of his futon and squirming back against the edge of the kotatsu.
“Oh, me?” He asked unnecessarily. His gaze strayed towards the black TV, then over to the genkan, where their sneakers were heaped into a messy pile. His voice jumped an octave, and he giggled a little too loudly. Everyone waited until he stared down into his lap and said in a blasé voice. “I’ve seen my brother’s dick.”
“In the bath?” Tanjiro asked.
Zenitsu shook his head. “Hard,” he clarified. “He jerks off in front of me, like every night.”
“Ah—” Tanjiro started.
Genya caught himself gaping when the other boy looked at him and flushed. He couldn’t imagine someone’s older brother doing that right in front of them. His Nemi always changed clothes in the bathroom, and had never once mentioned having sex to him, let alone—
“Yeah.” Zenitsu shrugged. “He puts on porn on his laptop and just whips it out. What a guy, you know? His dick looks okay. It’s a nice shape and he trims his hair. He told me to come suck on it a few times, but—”
“Zenitsu,” Tanjiro cut him off. There was a nervous wobble in his voice that gave Genya pause. He glanced over at him, then wished he hadn’t. His lips were pressed together so tightly they’d all but disappeared, and his red eyes were wide—and horrified.
For all Tanjiro’s concern, Zenitsu seemed far less worried. He giggled weakly and shrank from his friend’s stare, turning to Genya and speaking directly to him. “I mean I didn’t do it,” he said. “He didn’t actually want me.”
“That isn’t the point, Zenitsu!” Tanjiro insisted. “Your brother shouldn’t be doing that. I would die if one of my brothers saw me—”
“Yes, but your brothers are younger. It’s different! I read hentai, too. It’s not like I don’t know—”
“—But still.”
Genya glanced between the two boys, mustering an awkward smile. The whole discussion was starting to make him uneasy—not because he was put off by it like Tanjiro was, but because he wasn’t. He didn’t see why it was such a big deal.
It was shocking, sure, and Sanemi would never do something so blatant. But when siblings shared space, it was hard to keep secrets. Sanemi always knew when he was on his cycle and asked too many questions when he stayed after school with his friends. He petted Genya’s hair when they snuggled on the couch, and sometimes woke up in the morning with a tent in his boxers.
His gaze locked with Zenitsu’s, and he looked at him helplessly. The yellow-haired boy must have misread the look, as he shot back something that stopped Genya’s heart.
“You share a bed with Mr. Shinazugawa, right? There’s only one bed here, so you must. Have you seen his dick before? Have you seen him jerk off?”
“No.” Genya shook his head and blushed from head to toe.
“Really?” Zenitsu pushed.
Inosuke barked out a laugh that made his hair stand on end, and Tanjiro firmly shook his head, reminding the other boy, “He’s our teacher, Zenitsu. You shouldn’t pry. Plus, he’d never do that.”
“He wouldn’t,” Genya agreed. Swallowing his heart, which had leapt to his throat, he stared down at his lap and did his best to explain. “He’s very private. He never tells me if he’s seeing someone or anything like that. We share a bed, but not for much longer. He’s saving up to buy two smaller ones, then he’ll switch it out.”
Or, at least, that’s what he’d told the social worker six months ago when Genya had moved in. About a month later, he’d gone silent on the issue, and Genya didn’t press him because he’d decided he rather liked sharing a bed. His brother made him feel warm and cared for. Falling asleep beside him brought back memories of clinging to him in the dark while their parents fought in the other room.
His Nemi staved off the chill better than any thick comforter or room heater could. He might be overprotective, but he kept Genya safe. He made him feel loved.
Genya licked his lips, and tried not to think too hard about what Zenitsu had described, choosing instead to focus on the comforting presence of his brother in his bed. Caught up in the thought, he didn’t notice the tea bottle spinning until Zenitsu brightly chirped “It’s your turn!” while jamming his finger down at the cap.
“Oh.” Genya stopped. He glanced down at it and hurriedly racked his brain. He hadn’t planned on bringing up his gender until the other boys got to know him better, but compared to everything else flying through his head it was an easy confession.
Tugging his knees up to his chest, he leaned back against the sofa and wrapped his arms around them. He quickly glanced over at Tanjiro, who flashed him an encouraging smile.
“I was born a girl,” he said with a sigh.
“You were what?” Inosuke pushed himself up and leaned in.
“I changed my gender,” he explained. He could feel the boys’ eyes on him. Regret started creeping in.
“You’re joking?” The hitch in Zenitsu’s breath made his statement sound more like a question.
“I’m not.” Genya tilted his head and sighed.
“But how?” Inosuke crawled over, shoving the bottle out of the way so he could lean in and stare into his face. Genya held his breath and turned away, which only encouraged the other boy to get closer. His breath on Genya’s chest made his hair stand on end.
“But you’re so tall. You’re taller than me! And you’re muscular, too. I’ve never seen a girl with biceps like that.”
Genya turned to Inosuke and balked, staring right into his wide green eyes. Of all the things to question about what he’d said, that was what he chose to focus on? He was the weirdest guy he’d ever met. “My family is tall,” he said, incredulous.
“Not Mr. Shinazugawa,” Inosuke pointed out.
Genya flushed as every thought he’d had about his brother came rushing back. He squirmed away from Inosuke and turned towards the other boys. Tanjiro had put on a small, earnest smile, but Zenitsu stared at him wide eyed and slack jawed.
“So you…you what?” The yellow-haired boy asked. “You don’t have a dick?”
“Zenitsu, please,” Tanjiro warned.
He ignored him, staring straight into Genya’s flushed face. “You have a pussy? And boobs? Can we see?”
“Zenitsu!”
“What? I’m just curious. Don’t you want to see?”
Instead of answering, Tanjiro scooted slowly over to Genya, positioning himself between him and the other boys. “That’s why Mr. Shinazugawa didn’t want us coming over?” He supplied, and Genya slowly nodded—though it was only partially true.
Tanjiro flashed him a gentle smile, before looking back at Zenitsu and warning, “We don’t want to get Genya in trouble, okay? Let’s get ready for bed. If Mr. Shinazugawa comes back and we’re staring at his brother, we’ll make him upset.”
His words had the desired effect, as Zenitsu shrank slowly back and closed his gaping mouth. Even Inosuke withdrew to his own futon, but not without huffing and mumbling to himself that he still didn’t believe it.
Genya flashed Tanjiro a grateful smile. His heart pounded as he shyly explained he needed to use the bathroom and rose onto shaky feet. He hurried over to the bedroom door and pulled it closed behind him, worming his arms out of the binder he’d worn underneath his sleep clothes, and hiding it under his pillow.
His loose shirt fell over his nipples and the swell of his small breasts. They barely tented the fabric, but he felt them far too acutely. From the soft caress of cotton against sensitive skin to the cool air that slipped between when he tugged on his collar, he noticed them too much, and worried his friends would notice, too.
Crossing his arms, he hurried over to the toilet and nervously relieved himself. When he went to clean up, he realized he was still slick from before—which only made him feel worse. The whole conversation had been awkward from start to finish, and now he had to go back in there and sleep beside the other boys. He hated to guess what might be on their minds.
Maybe Sanemi was right about bringing boys over. He always knew what was best. Genya should have just listened!
On the other hand, Tanjiro had been so sweet and protective. He had stepped in and put an end to the conversation before it got too awkward, and that made Genya’s heart pound. Warmth blossomed in his chest when he recalled the other boy’s sweet smile, and spread to his face when he thought back to him leaning in to shield him from the others.
He was so kind. He put Genya’s fears at ease, and, more than that, Genya trusted him. If nothing else, Tanjiro would respect him.
He rose from the toilet and flushed, letting out a soft sigh as he righted his sleep clothes and crossed his arms again. Before now, he’d only felt cared for like that by his brother. It came as a relief to sense it in somebody else.
He headed back out to the living room and hurriedly flicked off the light, though his caution turned out to be excessive. His guests had already settled in and closed their eyes.
Zenitsu lay in his futon, and Inosuke slept sprawled out on top of him, clinging to him like some oversized toy. Only Tanjiro stirred when he approached, blinking up at him and summoning a shy smile.
“I’m sorry about the others,” he whispered as Genya settled down beside him. Genya quickly shook his head, but Tanjiro added, “I’ll talk to Zenitsu in the morning. He’s always been like that. Please don’t be offended.”
“I’m not offended.” Genya assured him—and he wasn’t. Awkwardly aware of his body, sure, but not offended. “It’s okay. I get it. I shouldn’t have blurted that out, but I didn’t know what else to say.”
“It’s okay.” Tanjiro smiled kindly, scooting back a bit to make more room for Genya. Rather than allowing the gap between them to widen, Genya followed him, scooting his pillow right beside the other boy and tossing his futon cover over both of them.
Tanjiro blushed. It was hard to make out its hue with his face bathed in shadow, but Genya felt its heat radiating off of him. “Is this okay?” He asked, and the other boy slowly nodded.
Genya settled in against his side and rested his face on the corner of his pillow, listening to the soft rise and fall of his breath and the pounding of his heart. “You can feel if you want,” he heard himself whisper. His own heart skipped a beat, shocked by his boldness.
“Under my shirt, I mean,” he softly clarified when Tanjiro failed to respond.
“Oh, um…” Tanjiro turned to him. He studied him for a moment, before glancing down and biting his lip. “I…Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Genya answered. And he was sure. He was embarrassed, and shocked he had offered, but he was sure. He’d very much like Tanjiro to touch him.
For a single, terrifying second he worried Tanjiro didn’t want to—that he’d misread his kindness or the acceptance in his eyes, seeing what he’d hoped to see rather than what was really there. His fear ebbed when the other boy cracked a nervous smile and scooted slowly in. He lightly touched his waist over his shirt, then asked again, “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” Genya repeated too loudly, causing Zenitsu to stir. He flustered, staring into Tanjiro’s wide eyes. “Please…”
A small, embarrassed smile twitched on the other boy’s lips as he slid his hand down to the hem of his shirt, then dipped his fingers beneath it. Skin met skin, and a jolt shot through Genya’s body. Squirming closer, he let out a sharp exhale. His friend’s hand moved maddeningly slowly up the curve of his waist.
Tanjiro stopped just short of his ribs, and a question formed on his lips that Genya silenced by resting their foreheads together. Tanjiro’s breath ceased, and his red brows knitted together. The pad of his thumb scooted up under his arm, ghosting over the small swell beside it, but he was moving so slowly Genya wanted to scream. Wriggling his hips against his friend’s leg, he grabbed him by the wrist, tugging his hand until his palm cupped his small breast.
Tanjiro flushed. His breath hitched, and his fingers splayed out like he didn’t know quite what to do.
Doing his best to encourage him, Genya cracked a small smile and angled his chest until Tanjiro’s hand finally closed and squeezed. A curious finger found his nipple and rubbed against it, and though hesitant and light, that touch drew a sigh from Genya’s lips.
He closed his eyes and leaned in, bumping his mouth against the other boy’s lips, and exhaling against them. Tanjiro’s palm was broad and callused from years of gripping a kendo sword, but it felt good against Genya’s soft skin. When his fingers moved, his skin prickled, and when his thumb nudged his nipple it hardened and swelled.
Heat started to build between his legs, the slickness there pleading to be touched and smeared. His whole body shook for it, quaking for attention. When Tanjiro let out a small moan, he grabbed his other hand and shoved it down between his legs. His own fingers found the bulge in his friend’s pants, and he cupped it, squeezing it slowly to get a feel for its size.
The boy gasped, and he swallowed the sound with a frantic kiss. Tanjiro’s heart hammered in his cock. It twitched and pounded in his hand, and he wanted it badly—so badly he could hardly stand it.
He moved to the waistband of his pants, but Tanjiro stopped him, shifting back a centimeter, and letting out a sheepish chuckle. He covered Genya’s frown with a soft kiss, before guiding him in and wrapping his arms and legs around him.
It felt nice to be held, but his body still ached. The fire inside continued to ravage his lower half. As Tanjiro drifted off, Genya’s thoughts turned to his brother. How nice it would feel to be held by his Nemi, and how firm his palm always felt when it cupped his cheek.