
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/696769.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Tsubasa:_Reservoir_Chronicle
  Relationship:
      Kurogane/Princess_Sakura, Fay_D_Flourite/Kurogane, Sakura_(Clone)/Syaoran
      (Clone), Fay_D._Flourite/Princess_Sakura
  Character:
      Kurogane, Sakura_(Clone)
  Additional Tags:
      Sexual_Content, Implied_Relationships, CLAMPkink, Denial_of_Feelings
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-23 Words: 2644
****** The End of This Boy ******
by stardropdream
Summary
     "In the future, luck may have nothing to do with it."
Notes
     Originally posted to the CLAMP kink meme and then reposted to LJ
     September 10, 2010.
     The prompt was for Sakura to protect Kurogane, and I ended up taking
     that a bit metaphorically. And ended up taking the "healing cock"
     fandom joke to its unfortunate conclusion, as well.

Infinity was very cold. The weather, perhaps, but especially the silence. The
things that passed between the princess and the mage, but never culminated to
words. The things that passed between the kid and the princess. Everything that
was unsaid. Everything he wanted to say.

So he drank, instead. It was a way to spend the night. He wasn’t sad. Perhaps,
he was a little sad… if he was honest with himself. And he was honest.

When he was drinking was when she would come to him, sometimes. After the mage
had gone to sleep. She moved as a princess did, that childlike innocence and
awkwardness gone now, replaced with the maturity befitting a royal. Even with
her damaged leg, she still moved with dignity, and did not let any pain betray
her expression. When she stumbled, he would stand and offer his hand to her,
and she would take it. He would lead her back to the couch where he sat and
they would sit, in silence. He would drink, but she did not. She remained
silent, just sitting next to him, occasionally looking up at him.

“If there’s something you want to say, then say it,” he said one night.

She started, looking up at him in surprise, eyes wide.

It’d been a particularly brutal day in the chess game. Where it was usually
Kurogane who launched the offensive with Syaoran while Fay remained back to
protect Sakura, today Fay had been dismantled and it was Kurogane’s
responsibility to protect the harm coming to Sakura. The princess’ will was
strong, but Kurogane knew how fragile she was below the surface. He’d taken an
attack he normally would have been able to dodge, but it’d been directed at the
princess and he’d struggled to get back to protect her while the mage was
otherwise occupied. It’d caught him right in the arm.

The three of them had worked hard to protect the chess master, the princess.
Kurogane had taken the brunt of the attacks, however, as Syaoran went on the
offensive and Fay attempted to recuperate from the attacks made against him.
Kurogane was a skilled fighter, had grown up as a fighter—and he could stand
the test of the other team’s might. Especially when he could feel the princess’
determination surging through them all. Palpable.

Kurogane shrugged. “You come out here every night as if there’s something you
want to say.”

Sakura lowered her gaze, grasping her hands together.

Kurogane took a drink. “So if there’s something you want to say, say it. If
not, it doesn’t matter to me.”

Sakura breathed in, then lifted her gaze, no smile on her face but a touch of
softness. She pushed some of her hair from her eyes and adjusted the black
fabric of her dress as she sat up a little straighter.

“I’m sorry,” she said, quietly.

Kurogane paused in a drink and narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

She looked taken aback for a moment, then shook her head. “I know you are
worrying over everyone, and we don’t make it easy for you.”

“What you do is your choice,” Kurogane said to his glass.

Sakura nodded. “I know.”

“Hn.”

“But I still want to apologize,” she said softly, lowering her gaze again. “I
know you want to help us, and you do our best to protect us.”

“Hn,” Kurogane said again, his cheeks pink despite himself.

This time, Sakura did smile.

“And, thank you,” she said.

“Hah?” Kurogane muttered, looking away now.

The princess shifted, tucking hair behind her ear again and smoothing out the
folds in her dress with a critical eye. “For being here. I’m glad that… I’m
glad that you’re here, Kurogane-san.”

She shifted, pushing herself up into Kurogane’s lap. He opened his mouth to
speak, confused, but Sakura shook her head, pressing her fingers against his
lips. He fell silent, eyes narrowed. She gave him a small, sad smile as she sat
in his lap, her other hand grasping his bare bicep. She leaned in, kissing his
forehead, her lips lingering.

When she pulled away, Kurogane said nothing. He frowned at the princess,
sitting in his lap, holding onto his shoulders. She didn’t move for a moment
and then leaned in again, kissing him on the forehead again and moving down,
kissing one cheek and then the other, her eyes shut. Kurogane didn’t move,
didn’t breathe. She moved slowly, as if treading water. Her lips lingered on
the expanse of skin she pressed her lips against. His forehead, his cheeks, his
temples—it was innocent enough. And then she kissed each side of his jaw and
the hands on him drifted up, curling up his neck and into his hair at the base
of his skull.

“Princess,” he began, warning.

Sakura shook her head. “Kurogane-san.”

And she pressed her mouth against his, slanting slightly against him, pressing
up against him. He stilled completely, but did not think to push her away. She
cupped his head, kissing him sweetly. She pressed up against him, in his lap,
his chest pressed up to where her small breasts pressed into him. Her hands
dropped away from the back of his head and she curled her arms around him,
pressing ever closer. He turned his face away, to breathe. His cheeks were red.


“I’m not the kid,” he said, quietly, not wishing to break her, not wishing to
see her cry again.

She stilled, but did not pull away. She nodded her head and pressed her
forehead against his. He watched her through lidded eyes. Her eyes were closed,
her lips parted slightly.

“I know,” she said, quietly. “You’re Kurogane-san.”

He sighed, closing his eyes with a deep frown. His hands came up to grasp her
hips, settling her more comfortably in his lap. She folded against him, kissing
him softly on the mouth again. This time, he tentatively kissed back.

“Why?” he asked when she pulled away.

“Do you feel better?” she asked, her fingers touching where there’d been
bruises from the fight earlier. The skin didn’t feel tender anymore.

“How do you mean?” he muttered, because he felt wrong, holding the princess
like that, having the princess in his lap, having the princess kiss him.

She pressed her mouth softly against the spot just above his eye, where he’d
gotten a particularly drastic bruise. Her touch was soft, and Kurogane felt
warm when she pulled away, watching him curiously.

“They should heal,” she said, then gave him a slightly apologetic smile, “if
you’re lucky.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

Her hand smoothed over his damaged arm, gently. “Because I’m lucky… if I do
this, you should heal sooner. I don’t know about this, though…”

Her hand didn’t move away from his arm, and she was warm to the touch. She
pressed up against him, rubbed slightly. He could feel her breasts through the
fabrics of his shirt and her dress, could feel the smooth of her thighs as they
sided up against his. But he couldn’t deny that he did feel better, as if he
was already healing. The aches seemed to have fade already.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, quietly, frowning.

“It’s alright,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure how quickly it works or why it
works… but it’s worked for Fay-san, before.”

Kurogane closed his eyes, grunting slightly as he was faced with the images of
the mage kissing the princess, with the princess climbing on top of the mage
and sinking away into darkness. Sakura waited patiently, passing her hands
gently over his body, smoothing her way up against him and capturing his mouth.


“Let me protect you now,” she whispered against his mouth, kissing his bottom
lip, eyelashes fluttering, “You all do so much for me… please, let me do this.”

“… Do what you want,” he whispered against the princess’ mouth and pressed
forward just slightly to recapture her lips.

Sakura kissed him, and he could feel the slight curve of her sad smile as she
threaded her fingers through his hair, pressing closer to him. He lifted a hand
and patted the back of her head, stroking her hair briefly before thinking the
move to be too childish given the situation. He dropped his hand away.

Behind closed eyes, all he could see was Sakura kissing Fay like this, the two
of them wrapped together in a tangle of limbs, mouths pressed together, Fay
cradling Sakura, deepening the kiss and having the princess open up to him. He
grunted against Sakura’s mouth.

Sakura moved her hands over each part of his body aching with pain, with
injuries. His skin ignited from her touch and the attention of her mouth
against his face, alternating between his forehead, cheeks, and his mouth. He
opened his mouth slightly, moving to deepen the kiss—following the images in
his head.

Sakura gasped slightly and pulled away, mouth open. Kurogane stared at her,
felt his face heat up with shame. He looked away, grunting out an apology.

But the princess’ hand touched his cheek and turned his face back to him. “It’s
okay.”

And she leaned in and kissed him, open-mouthed, a tentative tongue slipping
into his mouth to touch his. He dragged her closer to him and felt her arch
against him, pressing her breasts further against his chest. He deepened the
kiss, tilting his head to sweep his tongue into her mouth, and she responded
favorably, her breath hitching and her body shivering against him, transferring
good luck into him so that it warmed him to the bones.

He was hard. He could feel it, and he hated that it was there, hated that his
body betrayed him in such a way. And he saw the way Sakura’s eyes widened and
knew that she felt it, too, as she slid her body up against him.

“Kurogane-san…” she whispered in wonderment.

He sighed through his teeth and shook his head, grasping her hips to push her
off his lap. “We should stop.”

“No, wait,” she commanded and perhaps as residual from the battles, from when
she was in command of the three of them, he obeyed her. “No, it’s alright…”

She pressed her hand against the bulge in his pants, fingers going to the belt.


He sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head. “With… You do that with the
person you care about.”

She looked up at him, and he instantly regretted the words, for all the pain in
her eyes—the person she cared about most wasn’t there, and didn’t remember her.


“Let me,” she whispered. She unhitched his belt and tentatively slipped her
hand inside, feeling his cock for the first time. He hissed, harshly, tensing
up. She watched his reaction, biting her lower lip, her green eyes filled with
pain. “Let me make you feel better, Kurogane-san… if this can heal you faster,
than please… please, let me protect you.”

“You…” he began but Sakura silenced him by climbing up on top of him, hand
around his cock and pulling him free from his pants. He felt his cockhead press
against her underwear and he sucked in a sharp breath.

Now, the hesitation was gone from Sakura’s eyes. She looked at him with renewed
determination, with the commanding look of a chess master.

“Let me,” she whispered, “Please.”

He didn’t push her away, and only felt as she let go of his cock and pushed
aside her underwear, shimmying up to him and pressing the cock up against her,
slowly taking him into her. It was tight. It was a painful heat and Kurogane’s
breath hitched as did the princess’. Despite himself, Kurogane pushed up into
her, the slightest jut of his hips. Sakura’s breath hitched and she tipped her
head back, clenching her eyes shut. Her mouth fell open in a silent cry as the
pain exploded in her.

But she began to adjust, and shifted her hips, pushing down further and further
onto him until he was inside her completely—tight, tight—heat.

He felt the twinge of regret, of disgust. She was like a daughter to him, and
yet here he was, pushing his cock up into her as she arched her back and cried
out softly, head tipped back and eyes shut in ecstasy.

“Kurogane-san,” she moaned quietly as he grasped her hips, pumping her up and
down on his cock.

He didn’t say anything, just ducked his head and closed his eyes, grunting
slightly.

“Kurogane-san,” she gasped in pleasure as he thrust up into her. She cried, and
bit her lip. “Kurogane-saaaaan.”

They were falling apart, he knew it. If he could do this to her, if she would
do this to him—everything was falling apart. He could feel her, even as she was
this close, feel that she was slipping away, that she was pulling away from
them all. She closed her eyes and did not look at him, and he wondered if she
was seeing someone else behind her eyelids. He thrust up into her, trying not
to hurt her with his bulk, watching her lithe body arch and writhe.

“Why?” he asked, again.

Sakura shook her head. “I want you to feel better. In the future, luck may have
nothing to do with it…”

His brows knitted at that, and he understood then. He understood that the
princess was hiding more, even more than she and Fay were hiding together.
There were things she would not say. And now, could not say. She gasped softly
and he captured her mouth to silence her as she bucked against him, as his
hands guided her up and down his cock.

“Oh—there,” she gasped as he angled her hips just right. He paused, unsure what
he’d done to elicit such a response but he continued to push into her at that
angle and her body tensed and arched as she cried out, her writhing increasing.
“T-there…”

Suddenly, she tensed over him, gripping him tightly as she cried out softly, a
small moan that might have been his name, but he couldn’t hear her.

She slumped against him and, still hard, he slipped out of her. She collapsed
against his chest.

“But you…” she began.

He shook his head. “Not in you.”

She slumped further against him, pressing her face against his neck, her
breathing labored. He sighed, feeling the coils of desire and regret twist in
his insides—so much left unsaid, so much shattered and destroyed. He tucked
himself into his pants as best he could (as if they weren’t already
uncomfortably tight). He scooped her up, cradling her against his body, just as
he always did from the chess matches. She curled her small arms around him,
arching up to kiss him on the mouth again. She was not smiling now, but she did
not look unhappy. He kissed her back, gently, carrying her to her room. He
didn’t break the kiss as he walked, knowing his way around their home well
enough. He slipped into her room just as the princess deepened the kiss again,
fingers curling his hair and her tongue pressing against his bottom lip.

He sat down on her bed with her still in his arms, kissing her. When she pulled
away, he laid her out on her bed, and surveyed her. She seemed to glow, her
eyes lidded and smoldering. She smiled at him, sadly, and closed her eyes.

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

He nodded, though she could not see it.

“Sleep,” he commanded, and stood.

He left the room, and made a beeline for the bathroom, to take a very cold
shower. He wouldn’t be able to wash away the shame, nor ignore the way already
the aches and pains in his body were healing, even as all other aches and pains
increased tenfold.
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