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Upon opening his eyes, Quincy can immediately tell something irksome is afoot. If not by the heavy smell clinging in the air inside the tent, small and compressed as it already is, definitely by the unmistakable weight on his chest.
He should be ashamed of this easy slip, but seeing as Topper is nowhere to be seen—the little traitor—Quincy will blame it on bad companionship just this once.
"You're heavy," he mutters with that apathy he's come to think of as some sort of safety net, against bothersome people if nothing else.
Kuya hums, a low dragged out rumble beneath his ribs, a sharp grin blooming right against Quincy's chest. "No threats to kick me out? Is our petty squabble over?"
Quincy doesn't dignify that with a response, staring down as mismatched eyes move to meet his gaze not without a good handful of mischief.
Petty squabble is putting it lightly, seeing as they've spent years and years ignoring one another in relative close quarters, but Quincy would rather go back to sleep than waste energy on a lost cause. Especially if that lost cause entails arguing with a mouthy yokai.
"What are you doing here?" He asks instead, making no attempt to dislodge the bastard off him.
Kuya cocks his head like a hunter assessing its prey, short lilac hair fluttering with the motion. "There's something nasty prowling the forest at night," he says, sharp canines peeking out of plush lips. "I thought I should warn you, for old time's sake."
Quincy furrows his brow, ignoring the sharp nails scratching lightly at his skin. "Something nasty even for you?"
A slight twitch of lips, a gesture so small and quick Quincy would have missed it were Kuya's face not inches away from his, but a telling all the same. Quincy squints harder, willing his other senses to focus on their surroundings.
He can feel something foul lingering nearby, just past his little hut, but it's somehow muted by Kuya's own scent. By his presence.
Were Quincy a little faster on the uptake, he'd think Kuya was trying to make a point by staking his mark against whatever thing is out there.
"Let's not waste time on technicalities," Kuya murmurs, scooting back until he's sitting up on Quincy's lap, straddling his thighs. "I'm sure we can find something more enjoyable to do, wouldn't you agree?"
Kuya rolls their groins together to make a point, rutting shamefully until Quincy can't help but sigh in pleasure, calloused hands coming to rest on Kuya's hips.
Everything about him is soft and elegant, warm and pretty to the eye, something Quincy finds extremely bothersome and impossible to ignore.
Fingertips explore milky skin until they graze the delicate furr of Kuya's tail, eliciting a shudder.
"Are you going to play pliable until the end?" The yokai asks, stopping his maddening motions. "I was hoping for something more. Has age slowed you down?"
Quincy purses his lips, caught between the urge to smother the bastard until he's scampering away and the need to resume their dance. So, for the second time in the span of less than one hour, he suppresses his instincts in favor of pleasure.
"Shut up," he mutters, hooking one leg around Kuya's until their positions are flipped around, the latter sprawled out beneath him.
Kuya laughs, because of course he does, the intricate clasp holding his vest closed halfway off already. "Or else what?"
Quincy descends on him like he would any other prey, covering Kuya's body with his own as their lips meet in between deep exhales.
Taking advantage of the other's more subdued nature, Kuya wastes no time before taking the lead, parting Quincy's lips with his tongue. Trading wet, open mouthed kisses until they're tearing off clothes in-between, albeit in a lazier fashion for once.
Kuya brushes his fingers down Quincy's arms and around his back, parting his legs invitingly as the latter claws at his hips. Fingertips digging into soft flesh.
"That's more like the Quincy I remember," Kuya hums between kisses, grazing Quincy's nape with his nails. "I wonder if everything else is the same, too."
Quincy moans between hissed teeth as deft fingers squeeze aching flesh, smearing precum all over his shaft. Kuya laughs under his breath, teasing and teasing until Quincy is rasping haggardly against his neck. "Guess so, uh?"
Only the playful jabs are cut short as Quincy answers in kind, pushing one digit inside Kuya without preamble. The yokai moans loudly at the intrusion, immediately chasing after the friction until a second finger joins the first, then a third.
Quincy fingers him open until even someone as insufferable as Kuya is left a whining mess, arched like a bowstring to cling onto the pleasure.
He moans Quincy's name in a broken staccato, over and over, until he's forcing him to back off in favor of speeding things along.
"Just give me what I want," Kuya growls, teeth sharp. "I'm tired of playing."
He's dangerous, perhaps the most dangerous thing in this forgotten place, but to Quincy he looks like an angry kitten. One begging to be fucked, but a hissy bastard nonetheless.
"Always so bossy," Quincy huffs, stroking his cock a few times before pushing the tip against Kuya's hole. "How bothersome."
Kuya's petty remark dies on his tongue as Quincy sends stars spiraling in his vision, a twist of pain and pleasure with each thrust.
He's not the only one affected by all of it, of course, but Quincy keeps his own reactions hidden by resting his forehead on the other's shoulder, snapping his hips at the only pace which has always worked for them. Fast and messy.
Long nails leave angry red marks on his back, Kuya holding on for dear life, embarrassing noises falling freely from parted lips.
Noises which grow louder until an orgasm is stealing the air from his lungs, triggered by the feeling of sharp teeth against his neck. Quincy keeps his mouth there, rutting until he's spilling inside his lover with one last grunt.
Beneath him Kuya catches his breath, lithe arms still wrapped tightly around him. Quincy licks at the reddened mark apologetically, earning himself another shudder before he's pulling off.
Something which Kuya doesn't let stand for more than a second, immediately rolling around until he's laying once more above Quincy. Sated and flushed, tail wagging like an excited animal.
"That wasn't so bad now, was it?" The bastard asks, biting lightly at Quincy's jaw. "We should do it more often. Fix our problems like this."
Quincy lets him to his games, holding still as Kuya bites and kisses, caresses and scratches.
All things considered, he can't bring himself to mind that much.