InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ CLAIMING KIN ❯ Meeting Kin, Part II ( Chapter 2 )

Meeting Kin II

By Salome and Talon

Warning: Shouta. Smut. Kinks of many varieties. Don't read it if you don't want to.

The child's mouth was too small to take in much, but what he lacked in ability he made up for in sincerity…and in the sheer beauty of watching him take it. They had “practiced” daily for more than a week now, and Sesshoumaru had enjoyed stroking his hair as he did it, even touching those irresistible furred ears until the pup became used to the touch and tolerated it with the soft whimper that aroused the youkai so deeply. So much could be taught to the child so quickly, just by calm insistence. Sesshoumaru was determined, and the child was obedient. And when he hesitated, the merest growl of displeasure put him instantly in his place. He marveled that he had no desire to hurt his lesser sibling, but the truth was the truth. He did not. Over the past several days, in fact, he had truly come to think of the child as his, as his possession. And the child seemed to revel in his role.

Yes, his childishness grated on Sesshoumaru's high-strung nerves, especially when his energy was high in the mornings, when he woke at his brother's feet and wanted to “play.” Sesshoumaru would send him away with servants and do whatever absurd diplomatic work his father deigned to send his way—without once asking how the child was. He suspected that neither his brother's demands for attention nor his father's neglect would change. But true power was about managing what one was given, not wishing for something else. After all, as soon as “Onii-sama” laid hands on him, there was power and peace and pleasure. And the child took a spanking on his little rear as well as he took cock in his little mouth.

This day, however, Sesshoumaru had new tastes in mind. Experience had already shown him the pup's ass was not yet ready to take his cock—though practice in that direction did provide pleasure. Today, he wanted to taste his brother's orgasm.

The servants herded him back to his brother's rooms. They didn't like to answer his questions, but they wouldn't take him to see Mother today. She misses him, and he is slightly scowly until the doors open and he's back in Oniisama's rooms. He can hear the sighs of relief that the servants utter, but he doesn't care. He bounces, instead. "Oniisama!!! You're back!!"

“Kin,” Sesshoumaru commands, knowing the child will obey, particularly when he uses the absurd name he prefers. He still never thinks of the child as “Kin,” as anything other than “the child,” but it is simplest to use the single-syllabled appellation and have the silence and obedience he requires. He points to the floor at his feet and awaits the child's response.

He beams and patters bare footed over to Oniisama's feet and kneels down, obediently, pressing his forehead to his brother's feet.

He will never tire of the sight of that mass of white hair spilling across the child's shoulders and over his downturned face as he makes his obeisance. He waves away the servants, who quietly retire, taking any thoughts they have about the relationship of the brothers with them. He bends forward and lifts the child into his arms effortlessly. He is comforted by his small weight in ways and to degrees he will not name. “Come to Onii-sama's bed, child,” he says, without emotion.

He looks up hopefully. "Does Oniisama wish for Kin to satisfy him?" He likes being picked up by Oniisama. He likes being here much more than being with the servants. They don't like him.

The child puts things far too plainly. He tries to imagine a whore asking such a question. As always, the innocence arouses even as it grates. He lays the child on the bed and pins him there easily. The move is becoming almost routine at this point, but he somehow never seems to remember. His energy and enthusiasm overwhelm his respect. Sesshoumaru will always remind him. He is spread wide, a forearm and hand easily pinning the pup's hands overhead. The youkai's face hovers close, gazing down into the eyes that reflect his own. He growls and shows fangs.

He whines softly and turns his face away, pushing his belly up, still clothed in his robe. He forgot. But he can be good. He is being good. He hopes Oniisama doesn't punish him today. He only forgot a little this time...

Glaring down, he is struck again at how very small the child is. When they are apart, he forgets…he represses, perhaps. His mind tells him that he would never find so compelling a whelp this young. So naïve. So foolish. But gods…he compels. Nothing smells like his brother, nothing soothes like him, nothing tastes like him. Yes. Tastes. Today he will taste him. Rather than speaking—which will only lead to punishment, for the child cannot help but sputter foolishly—he uses a claw to slit the child's robes open and dips his face down to lick that irresistibly submissive body.

He gasps at the hot wetness on his skin. He whines again, but louder this time. He shifts, his arms and hands locked in the iron grip of his brother, and his warmth and good smell all around him. "O...oniiiis..sama..."

The child's whine is an unalterable “yes” in Sesshoumaru's mind. The sound moves him like little else in his long life, and he needs to hear it, to draw it out, to capture and own it. He laps at the flesh before him, savoring and tasting it, hovering at sensitive nipples, tracing small scars, nosing sweet armpits and neck-hollow.

"Unnhhh...ohhh..." He wriggles and squirms as he's licked. He doesn't mind the ear touching now. He's not sure why. But his nipples get all tight, and he giggles at the mouth against the ticklish skin of his underarms.

As the impossible child fidgets, he becomes more aggressive. He nips and licks, drags fangs softly and feels his own urgent erection swell. He rises now to peer at the object of a desire he has heretofore forbidden himself: that tiny cock, the miniscule sac. All would so easily fit into his mouth at once. The thought makes him…hungry. Why has he not yet allowed himself this indulgence? In part, he is selfish: he loves to feel that child-mouth stretch around his shaft, then to pull him off his cockhead by his hair and spurt into his open mouth. He loves the way the child presses out his tongue and lets it flow into him, overspill his mouth. He smacks his lips, uses fingertips to catch any drips. And Sesshoumaru swipes a tongue along his cheek to ensure the child is clean after. But he has never tasted the child's ejaculate. He does not even know if the child does or can ejaculate. He has resisted as long as it has given him pleasure to do so. Now he needs. And will take.

He looks up at him, his mouth open, flushed and panting, his feet moving on the slick silks of the bed. He feels very warm and skittery. Usually by now Oniisama wants something else, but so far he has only licked and bit and made sharp feelings with his teeth. "Onii?"

An idea comes to him. He releases the child's arms and sits back on his heels. He looks down at the wriggling creature, enjoying his parted lips and the way he pants. Had Sesshoumaru ever been so open, so full of guileless need? Is it that which has kept him so gentle—even in punishment—with the child? “Kin, Onii-sama wishes to see your hardness for him. Show it.”

He blinks. "My hardness?" He can see Oniisama's hardness in his trousers. He didn't have hardness like that. Still...Oniisama did not like to repeat himself, and hesitant fingers reach down to touch what rests between his thighs.

Small, clumsy fingers, but they are deft enough when it comes to how natural an act it is for the child to touch himself. He is shocked at the possibility that this is new for the child. He has told Sesshoumaru of how he has been treated by other brothers, dominant brats who have used him but will use him no longer. Has he never felt arousal? An unexpected protectiveness washes over Sesshoumaru, and a need to know who this child is to him makes his gut clench. He cares nothing for the child's motherbitch, and he loves-loathes their father in the same way he always has. But this child…this brother… He brings his hand to the child's and helps him stroke the small shaft. The comfort and arousal the tiny movement gives is immense.

It GROWS!!! His eyes go wide at the stiffening sensation and the warmth from his brother's fingertips against his own. "Lookit!!! Oniisama!! Lookit!!!"

Sesshoumaru shakes his head. The damned child is such a…child. What possesses him to tolerate that excessiveness, that effusiveness, that absurd enthusiasm? It seems that no matter how he tries to control the situation, to demand the child's attendance to his need for stillness and controlled behavior, he is met with giddy, inappropriate, childish energy. Punishment makes him cry as excessively as pleasure makes him wriggle and giggle and gesticulate and remark.

It pokes straight out from his body, and bobs slightly with each breath. And it feels...he moves his fingers down it again. Good. The skin moves over and over it. It looks very different to Oniisama's...not just because it's smaller either, but he can't figure out exactly why it looks different. "It is hard and pokey out like Oniisama's hardness," he says proudly.

He ignores the child's words; he must. He wants the animal hardness, the child's body with the brute need. “Close your eyes, Kin. Just feel.”

He obeys, closing his eyes. He forgets to touch himself for long seconds. "OH." His fingers push and move again, his tongue tip poking out in unconscious concentration. Red on pink lips.

Yes, this is better. He permits the little hand to stop, then begin again. He lets his fingers lightly rest upon that hand, to provide reassurance, to urge him on. Soon he will take more direct control and drive this where he needs it, take the child where his needs lie. But just now, what he desires most is to watch the child's desire emerge. He must see this to know more about where and how the boy can be reached, influenced, owned. His eyes roam the small body from head to toe. The spill of hair, the twitching ears, the tight-shut eyes, the peeking tongue, the chest rising and falling, the sweet small cock in tiny fist, the splayed legs, the curled toes. If he feels more than a lust for power and gratification, he will not confess it.

Kin's other hand clenches the furs and silks as he pulls at his little dick. He knows a lot of names for this body part, but he never particularly thought much of his before. He likes to pee out of it, but other than that...he never knew it could get like THIS!! He grunt-whines, his ears flattening halfway in consternation and confusion.

That's right, he thinks, clasping his hand a little more firmly, reaching a fingertip to circle over the head as it crests on the downstroke. Show me your pleasure, my scarred, beautiful, tainted pet.

His eyes fly open at that touch. "Ahhhh!! That...that..." He shivers and jerks. "Oniii...saaaaaama...."

Oh child. He begins to ache with a kind of desire he has not yet known, that he both loathes and craves in equal measure. It tears at him like claws in his flesh. He wants the child to peak and burst as he watches. He wants to bring him pleasure always. He wants him protected and cherished. And he wants to mount and hurt him so badly he will never call him brother again. “Show me, ototo-san,” he urges, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar to his ears.

"I...i...oniiiiiiii....oniiiiiii...." He gasps and jerks, making a small howl as something crashes over inside him. Something warm and cold, and all-over, but centered on his small dick and his fingers which are unexpectedly slippery now....and...and suddenly his dick isn't hard anymore either.

He watches the child's sweet torture as long as he can do so, but soon his mouth must be there, there before he can stop himself, holding the child's hand, pushing out that liquid desire he must taste, must lick and suck from fingers, lap softly from oversensitive tiny cockhead. Ah, how the pup offers himself, offers up his pleasure to his brother. So unselfish, even in a moment more self-centered than any other. His tongue follows the trail of seedless fluid down his thigh, beneath it, and soon he has hoisted the child carefully by his legs and his tongue is everywhere, cock-balls-ass-thigh, over and around. He gives himself to devouring his perfect pet, heedless of the hypersensitivity and childishness he knows will immediately result in a begging and squirming that will threaten to undo him.

"Oniiiiiisama...oh oh ohhhhhh...owww....wahh...that's...that's ouchy!! Ohhh...heheheeeee...that tickles...I...aaahhhh..." He's upside down, and being licked and sucked and it almost HURTS...no...it does hurt some places, but others it is very nice and shivery, and others it's warm and wet...

Sesshoumaru's breathing becomes labored. He is torn. His grip tightens as he releases his prey and lowers him to the bed. He knows the child means no disobedience; he does not have rebelliousness in him. And he has gotten what he sought, has he not? Yet, he is an adult…and youkai. He growls. He wants what he wants—but what is it he wants? His head throbs. How does the child invoke such impossible contradictions within him, such powerful need? His eyes flash as he looks down at the vulnerable babe, searching for answers in his childflesh.

He sucks his finger as he looks up at his Oniisama. His hardness was really big in his pants. He grips the sole of one foot, easily with his other hand, pulling it back guilelessly. He wonders if he should get up and suck Oniisama's cock now. But he didn't say to. And sometimes Onii could get really mad at things that were surprising. He was smelling doggish too, so he lays there and rocks slightly, sucking at his finger, the other hand pulling his foot back.

How had the creature come to lose his fear so quickly? To feel so comfortable in child behavior that showed innocence without deference. He can feel the sneer form, the fangs exposed to cool air. He crouches over the body and drinks in the smell. The growl rises.

Uh oh. He is being bad somehow. He drops everything...his foot, his finger and goes entirely limp.

There. Submissive now. Yes. Is this it? Is this what he wants? He leans in, scrapes his teeth along the child's jaw.

He whines softly, keeping his eyes turned away, staying limp and being good for Oniisama.

The whine calls him to himself again. A sound like no other. The child is his to do with as he wishes, but he must know what he wishes. He may be as greedy as he likes, but, damn it, he cannot make a child own an adult's desire.

He pants softly, feeling Oniisama's breath against his skin, smelling his scent, feeling the warmth of his body. Oniisama will tell him...somehow...what he is to do. He always does. Not always with words, so he pays close attention to his scent and his body, too.

He knows he can command this child's mouth or, if he wishes, force his way into the small, vulnerable body. So long as he knows this is what he needs. Right now, it is not. Leaning against the bedside wall, he releases his cock into his own hand and begins to stroke. The child's eyes are on him. He begins there.

He watches, his eyes flicking from Oniisama's big dick up to his face and back again, chewing his lip. His hardness was always so big and red...

He reaches out his free hand and places the child's small palm around the fingers that stroke his shaft. Can he understand his brother's desire through this touch? Learn: this, too, is a lesson. The small hand upon his own, the wide golden eyes upon his cock. Feed your brother, tainted child. Offer up your innocence anew, again, with every stroke of our hands.

He knows the feel of Sesshoumaru-sama's need now...even so his breath hitches as the heat seeps into his little fingers. After several strokes he moves...rolling onto his belly to hesitantly nudge the thick shaft with his nose and mouth.

This, just this. The child that knows his need more than he knows it himself. Eager pup and despoiled hanyou: child that knows too much about desire and yet nothing at all. Very well, then, pet. He nods, bringing his hand to twine in the child's too-thick hair. He toys with an ear, closes his eyes, and prepares himself for an inadequacy that is simultaneously far too much. Child mouth, child nose, child hand, child loneliness and longing: he is coming to yearn for all of these things.

He looks up, his mouth open slightly, making the happy grunting noise when Oniisama plays with his hair, then grips it...fiddles with his ear...he can smell the heady scent of his brother's arousal, see the leaking, dripping angry red head of his cock looking at him. It fills his mouth this time, like all other times, and he tries his very best to be careful of his fangs...even though they never seem to bother Oniisama at all. He has to gulp air when he can, and submit to the pulling of his head, which he does, as he sucks.

How can the inadequacy of it simultaneously be the core of the pleasure of it? He wants to shove that small bobbing head down hard, ignore his need to breathe, ignore his life. Just suck it down, worthless little spark; forget the need to be careful. But as he grips the hair and the back of the skull, he finds himself mustering only a rough caress—or so it feels to him. The child gags, though, and he is reminded again of just how tiny he is. Damn him. He removes his hand and runs it through his own hair, then drapes the arm across his eyes. Take me somewhere, hanyou, he thinks, and centers himself in sensation.

He misses Oniisama's touch as soon as it is gone, and works harder to suck properly. To satisfy. It is SO big...he wonders if he maybe treated it a little like if it were female...he pulls back a bit and uses his tongue. Broad sweeps over the top, around and around, sliding under the loosely tight skin that covered and receded...

Sesshoumaru fights to keep control over his body. The tiny flicks, working their way into places that a larger tongue could not. And the small passes over and across: the child offers a teasing dance that requires his ample control not to react in a way he will not display—to his half-brother or anyone else. It is more than instinct to manage his mind and body in this manner; it is the essence of him. So when he involuntarily jerks as that tongue dips and swirls between head and foreskin as a soft puppy sound of concentration emerges from his throat, he is nearly lost to himself.

He looks up only briefly. The look on Oniisama's face makes him beam happily and he gets back to what he's doing. He pulls the foreskin back gently so he can suckle the side of the head of Oniisama's big dick, then lick everywhere again, then suck the head back into his mouth and bob up and down while his hands stroke and stroke together, trying to make as much good feeling as he possibly can for Oniisama.

The sensation is incomparable, for he has never felt hands as small—both delicate and sturdy as they pump him toward climax. He remains conflicted: as with the child's practiced submission, he cannot but wonder if his practiced skill governs how he dedicates himself to pleasing his brother sexually. What of this is Sesshoumaru's to claim and what merely belongs to survival instincts? Moreover, why does he care? His eyes still covered, he reaches his other hand blindly to reach between the child's legs and cup his cock and balls, so sweetly undersized, so entirely his to claim.

He makes a surprised noise, and a slurping pop as he comes up off his brother's cock, but almost at once returns to his task, first licking up that clear, musky, salty fluid. "I like this taste, Oniisama..." before sucking him in again. His hips move shyly against the warm hand and he makes his happy noise: the soft, sweet grunting noise in his chest as he sucks and strokes. Oniisama's hand feels...very nice there, even if he is not hard anymore.

Oh yes, child, feed your brother's jaded ears as you taste his undying need. So small is the child, that he can easily reach a fingertip to the tiny pucker he so wishes to stretch and fill, even as the soft genitals rest in his palm. How perfect this package, this fresh gift, this humble, skilled pet.

He jerks only a little bit. Oniisama's finger has been there before...and it hurts sort of when he did it, but it doesn't hurt now. It is warm, and after a few moments...it feels nice. He didn't always like satisfying his brothers and sisters. He didn't like sucking and licking, or the horrible feeling of being humped on. That didn't hurt, but it made his ears flatten, and his chest clench, and his eyes squeeze tight. Oniisama...was different. It wasn't because Oniisama did not hurt him, because he did. This sucking hurts his mouth, and makes it tired...but he wants to do it for Oniisama. And the spankings hurt. And the finger hurt too. But it wasn't all hurt. Though the hurt...he doesn't know. Oniisama tastes better. Yes.

He knows not to interrupt the child, not to speak to him. His words in reply make too plain his innocence, his ignorance, his accursed infantilism. But that is now what also moves him, he recognizes as he feels the non-weight of the miniscule sac, the slack button of a cock. He feels made of infinite patience while the pup pleases him, so eager and clumsy-sweet. And now the size of him inspires thought of a different kind. He is not hard but perhaps he is less sensitive now, and Onii-sama wants to climax with those soft genitals in his mouth. He raises up and withdraws his hands only to shift them to lift the whelp beneath the armpits and turn him upside-down with graceful ease. He listens for whimpers as the child's tiny face hovers before Sesshoumaru's straining erection. “More, child,” he says calmly, then bends forward to feast.

He's surprised when he's moved, but he is pliant, and not protesting, until he can't reach Oniisama's cock...just out of his reach...then it's close enough and he manages to get it back in his mouth and under his hands when the hotness of his brother's mouth surprises him, and he whines, loudly around his mouthful. Not in protest because it is Oniisama's touch and it feels...very nice. But it is surprising, to feel it again, so soon. After a few moments, he makes his grunting happy noise again, because it feels even better.

Sesshoumaru is not one to have given oral gratification to others often. Occasionally, a whim will inspire him to draw fangs menacingly down a shaft to hear a whimper of fear and submission or to lick his seed from between a whore's thighs for the perversity of it…and because he favors his own taste and is greedy and powerful enough to claim it back from the unworthy. This is different: the child is driving him toward climax with his earnest effort and despite his inability to suck him deeply or well. He is being teased over the edge. And the sound of his whining and grunting is better even than his mouth. And there is yet more, he must acknowledge, for the tiny cock in his mouth tastes so unutterably sweet, the flesh so soft, the foreskin surprisingly tight around the bud it holds within. He wants his tongue inside even as the balls rest gently at the bottom of his mouth. So small and yet so unexpectedly erotic.

The child pushes his head down further, of his own accord, fighting the gag, and he whines as he comes back up. He sucks harder. Harder...Oniisama...his skin is flushed everywhere, and he can feel the sweating at his forehead, around his ears too. All of him is inside Oniisama's mouth!! It's so warm, and he squirms his hips even as he sucks. Please don't stop...please...

Even as he feels himself tighten and swell in that impossibly soft, tight mouth, he sucks with rarely practiced gentleness on the prize within his jaws. He begins to come apart, but strains to be free of images of the past as his mind flies to his youth, when his mouth was so often stuffed with his father's cock. Once he neared adolescence, there was no gentleness, no sweetness, and so little pleasure beyond the desperate desire to be everything his Sire needed him to be. He sought his father's pride but so often received only his dominance. And such was still the case. Or was it? The urge to rethink is overwhelmed by the need to cum. He sucks the very innocence of the boy deeply into his mouth, and he feels somehow again a child at his mother's breast, again a pup taking his father's cock, and anew as his tiny brother's Onii-sama. Though he shows little outward sign of his orgasm, inside he is reaching, arcing, bursting, losing himself for the forever of those few precious seconds of perfect gratification….

Oh Oh OH!!! He tries to swallow, but he can't swallow it all, and he has to pull back even as it overflows his mouth and he tries to swallow more. It splashes on his face as he takes a breath and puts his mouth right back on to get the last bit, sucking as it softens. He puts his head down on Oniisama's belly, because he is still inside Oniisama's mouth and he whines softly, licking his mouth. "O...onii...nnnhhhh...."

He fights the urge to buck into the child's mouth as he releases. Even as he gives ample evidence of his yielding of control to the overwhelming sensation, he is still proud, vain, and unaccustomed to the feelings the child evokes in him. Releasing the child's cock from his mouth, he now turns him over again and feasts from his mouth. He licks the pup's lips, then parts them and draws his tongue across and through his teeth, and those tiny fangs. He sucks his tongue and tastes himself everywhere. Oh, the child is delicious, and he savors the musk of his own ejaculate on this soft lips.

Oh!! He likes this!! He likes kissing!! He opens his mouth obediently, he moves his lips and tongue when and how it seems Oniisama wants it...he shivers when Oniisama sucks his tongue. Small fingers clutch handfuls of his brother's silver mane as he licks Oniisama's lips eagerly. "I love...*licklick*...Oniisama's taste...," he says shyly.

The child's eager mouth is expected. The hands fisting in his hair is not. He is unaccustomed to being touched, handled so. The clutching fingers do not trigger more difficult memories, exactly, but they remind him of too-recent years when he could not always choose how and when he was touched by his father…when he could no longer restrain his Alpha energy but was forced to do so. He decides to suffer the child's imprudence, knowing it is merely a desire for greater intimacy. And how enthusiastic the child is! He forebears the smile that is easily banished before it begins, and allows the child's ministrations.

He lets go of the hair...with one hand at least to wrap the other around Oniisama's neck as he lays his head against his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck. "Did I satisfy you, Oniisama? Did Kin satisfy you well?"

Now he pulls the child back. Though the questions are good, he finds the affection troubling. Sitting him on his lap, he looks down into his cheerful yet solemn eyes. “Onii-sama is pleased, Kin.” He cannot keep his hands from fondling those ears, ruffling that unruly hair. He feels indulgent. “And what would ototo-san like to do now?”

He thinks about that. All day he waits for it to be time to be with Oniisama again. He wriggles happily as he's petted, his ears healing from the bruisings and bites of his other siblings' attentions. He is happy to have pleased his biggest brother. Then before he can actually say anything, his stomach makes a loud, embarrassing sound of hunger, and he shifts uncomfortably, averting his eyes.

“Shall Onii-sama send you off to the kitchen for dinner, Kin? I am certain there is plenty there for you.”

He swallows. "Would...won't...may I eat with Oniisama?" he asks in a small voice.

Sesshoumaru is aghast, though not a trace of it shows in his delicate, impassive features. “Onii-sama does not eat…with others.” He realizes it sounds absurd even as he says it, especially to a child.

"Oh." He looks down at his hands. "Then Kin wishes to stay with Oniisama." They won't give him food anyway, and if they do it won't be good food.

He remembers the formal dinners he was forced to attend for so many years. And how well it served him when his father finally acknowledged what his mother always knew: Sesshoumaru had a seriously impaired digestive system, and an appetite even more easily off-put than his sensibilities. He ate when he could, though he favored the wet nurses that eagerly volunteered their services to the first-born son when they learned of his special needs. But he dislikes the thought of the child going without. In truth, though watching others eat is quite unpleasant to him, watching the child—perhaps feeding him from his own fingertips—gives him pleasure to contemplate. And sharing a wet nurse…something he had never considered before…makes his cock begin to harden again.

He sucks his finger, curling up in Oniisama's lap contentedly. He will stay with Oniisama. His belly will quiet after awhile, he knows, and Oniisama is better than food. He was away all day. He would not waste time with Oniisama for eating.

The finger in the mouth again. Oh, but the child is so young. “Would you like Onii-sama to have some food brought for you, then?” he says, his cock unsure whether this is arousing or not and ultimately deciding to stay half-erect as images of tiny bites of sweet plums pressed into the child's mouth appear before him. His mouth waters not at the desire to taste the fruit, but at the image of the child licking juice from his brother's long, slender fingers.

He looks up, surprised, smiling around his finger. "And I can stay with Oniisama and not go away?"

“For a time, Kin,” he says, knowing he will weary of the child-energy when it returns, but basking now in the easy calm of this engaging little pet. He places the child to his side and rises, replacing his semi-hard cock into the folds of his garments, then glides to the door. He opens it and summons the servant in, unconcerned that his pet lies naked and thumb-sucking on his bed. He orders the plums he has seen in his mind, then asks what the child enjoys for meals, not having any idea himself.

"I like eggs," he says hopefully. He rarely got any, but when he did...he'd loved them so much. "And meat...rice?" He puts his finger back in his mouth and watches. The servant is so respectful to Oniisama!! He loves watching that.

Sesshoumaru quirks an eyebrow at the child, then looks back to the servant. The menu disgusts him, but the request is typical of the perverse duality that is his hanyou brother. With a sigh, he says, “Eggs, then, and rice. And let the meat be fresh, and tender.” The servant makes a barely perceptible glare at the child, then tries to cover with words of respect and a bow. Before he can bend his head, Sesshoumaru has him by the throat and raises him from the floor. “Have you a complaint to make against my wishes?” The servant shakes his head as vigorously as Sesshoumaru's grip will allow and begs forgiveness, acting as if he has no idea what his master complains of. He puts him back on his feet. “I will tolerate no disrespect for my brother. Is that understood?” The heartiness of the nod is as excessive as was the headshake, and the humble expressions of regret and apology and obedience do not satisfy, though they will suffice. Sesshoumaru gazes disapprovingly at the creature, who quickly realizes that the time to leave and go about his duties is now.

He rolls on his belly to watch with big eyes. Oniisama is SO STRONG!!! He is charmed by how the servant scampers away, bowing and scraping and humbling himself. "They should not question Oniisama," he says solemnly.

Sesshoumaru turns and looks at the child as he makes this proclamation. Well, let him not know the servants feel disrespect for him. He presumes the child is naïve enough not to realize just how problematic is the sight of him in his brother's rooms. “No one questions your brother, Kin. No one dares. The servant was just…confused. He is unaccustomed to my ordering food in my chambers, that is all. You will have whatever you wish to eat, child. Though Onii-sama may wish you to eat some of it where he does not see.” Not wishing to explain himself to his brother yet oddly talkative, he catches himself up and concludes quickly: “We shall see.”

"Kin will eat wherever Oniisama wishes him to." He smiles suddenly though. "Really? I can have whatever I want to eat? Truly?" He sits up on his haunches and scratches his ear with a hind foot in a quick, natural motion.

The movement irritates Sesshoumaru. Yes, they are inu, but they are also youkai. He jerks his awareness back to clarity. No, the child is not youkai. He is hanyou. That enticing smell, those irresistible ears, those intoxicating whines: hanyou. “Kin, you are not an animal. Do not…use your body in such a manner.”

He blinks large eyes at his brother. "I don't understand Oniisama...what did Kin do?"

“You will use your hands to scratch, not your feet, Kin.” He wonders at himself. Why does this matter? The hanyou will never have place in court. He need never worry that he will mar a future that can never amount to more than a lowly presence, tolerated at best. But if he wishes to keep the child—and it is a tenuous, fragile “if” that he does not wish to turn over too much in his mind lest his wiser instincts take over and send him permanently back to his mother—he must teach him at least some manners.

Blink. Blink. "Yes, Oniisama." He sprawls back down on the bed, enjoying the smells and the slippery feelings of the silks against his skin. "Oniisama, what do you do when Kin is not with you?"

He groans inwardly, though nothing shows in his obediently placid face. Now this, he thinks. “Onii-sama…works,” he states. He has no desire to explain even the most superficial aspects of the onerous and ridiculous duties of the firstborn of the Lord of the Western Lands. Not only will they make no sense to the child, but there is no need for them to. “What does Kin do when Onii-sama is working?” he adds, guessing the child will easily be rerouted from his question.

He makes a face, rolling back to his hands and knees and sits back up. "Kin waits. Kin sits quietly and waits. Kin goes where the servants say and sits where they say to sit. Kin does not run off, or speak. Kin does not see Mother or his brothers or sisters. Kin sits quietly and waits patiently."

Sesshoumaru realizes that he has asked a question to which he had no desire to know the answer. But now that he has asked it, he finds interest in this reply. What did he think the child was doing? “Do you not play with…other…children? Do you not…” What? “Read?” He remembers the child's age, and his status. “Do the servants…not read to you?” Words begin to fail him. “You…wait?”

"Kin waits," he repeats. "They do not read to Kin or play with Kin. Kin waits for it to be time to come back to Oniisama. I am good," he hastens to assure his biggest brother. "Kin behaves himself." He smiles a little. "Kin does not like to sit still for so long...but...when it is time to come to Oniisama then Kin is happy again."

The energy, the vitality, the way the child seems to burst at the seams when he comes to Sesshoumaru each day—or nearly each day: it is much clearer now. And the maturity and determination it must take to control that little body… He thinks again back to his own childhood. He was free, often, to romp, to play. When he was very young. And he was educated by those who curried favor with his father. Yes, he faced his father's control and use, even when very small, and some tutors were envious and cruel, but much of life was spent going from his mother's strong embrace to his father's occasional indulgence to the subservient kindness and childish enthusiasm of pups who knew he was the Lord's firstborn and wanted simply to be near him.

He cocks his head to one side. "Oniisama? Did Kin say something bad?"

Instead of cursing himself for showing signs of concern on his face, he decides his next move. As the servant knocks, then is encouraged to enter with a tray of steaming provisions fit for a prince yet to be eaten by a hungry, deserving bastard, he knows what to do. The servant bows and Sesshoumaru gives him his order, firmly and clearly: “From this night forward, the child will stay with me.”