Dissonant Notes in Minor Keys (KimMacau, KimChayMacau) 18+

Chapter Four: Pianist's Hands

And so he takes him by the hand, pulls him in and presses a kiss to his lips, Macau shivering as the sweat of the night cools on his body even as the shower begins to steam. The skin of Macau's strong forearms is textures with goose-bumps under Kim's hands; the skin of his back is softer, smooth and supple as Kim's palms touch, devouring each sensation and every quiet gasp Macau shudders against his lips. He's still clumsy, lips and tongue telling Kim he's the first, and Kim's kiss saying that he will be the only.

Kim pulls back, lets his hands rest on Macau's hips.

Macau looks up at him, and there is heat beneath the glaze of alcohol, and Kim needs him clean so that he can ruin him.

"Get in the shower, Macau," he says, and almost smiles at the pout forming on Macau's lips. "I'll be there soon."

Macau nods, face still scrunched, and steps into the shower, leaving the door wide open for water to splash off his body to puddle on the floor.

Kim is starving.

Kim is starving, and as he looks at Macau, Macau who belongs to him and now knows it, saliva floods his mouth. He wants to lick the water sliding across the muscles of Macau's back, the divots of his hips, the swell of his ass.

He wants to push Macau to hands and knees, let water pool in the small of his back, and drink from him, use his mouth and tongue and see how desperate he can make him from a slick, smooth slide, teasing down, down, until Kim's lips and tongue and teeth are taking him apart, getting him ready to be fucked.

Kim strips.

The shock of heat from the water ripples through Kim, but the skin of Macau's waist beneath his hands pulses into his body like a drug in his veins, flooding every nerve, spilling into every synapse as his fingertips press into the muscles Macau built beneath Kim's instruction, the foundation for the strength in him now.

Macau curls away from him, and Kim lets him, just for a moment, sliding one hand over Macau's abdominals, feeling the lines and shape of him, slipping over his chest, squeezing and kneading. Macau is tense and his eyes are averted, breathing uneven and short, hitching as Kim rests his hand at Macau's neck.

Kim feels Macau's cock against his hip, feels him rut forward so that the tip catches on Kim's skin, and Macau gasps, adam's apple rolling under Kim's hand.

Beautiful.

But there is still the lingering stink of others on Macau, and Kim needs him clean.

Kim keeps his grip on Macau, fingers lightly squeezing, his other hand soothing the threat as he pets Macau's hips.

Macau meets his eyes, hooded and vulnerable and wanting, and Kim cups his jaw.

"Be good, Macau. We have to get you clean."

Macau nods heavily, slowly, alcohol still in drenching his mind. He's clearly unfit to make decisions, but Kim knows he can take commands.

And Kim will give them.

Kim will give them cruel and kind in turns, fuck him like a possession and make love to him like he's precious.

Miraculously, there is still some modicum of willpower left in Kim, the stranglehold he constantly keeps on his impulses and compulsions still just tight enough to restrain his hands as he soaps up Macau's body, scrubs him pink, and then rinses him under the shower head. He keeps him there as Kim washes himself, feeling Macau's eyes on him as he does.

Kim steps under the spray, and Macau tries to step back --

-- and Kim yanks him forward.

Yanks him forward, grips his waist, and finally, finally pulls their naked bodies flush together, soap suds sliding off of Kim, sliding between them, everything slick and wet and hot, perfect, perfect.

Macau's calloused fingertips tentatively trace Kim's back as Kim's own hands roam to Macau's ass, squeezing, kneading, rocking them together, cocks slipping easily against skin as the water flows across them. Macau whimpers quietly, until Kim's fingers dig into his skin, leaving bruises on the flesh of Macau's ass.

Then, Macau cries out, a broken half-sob, and Kim breaks.

He takes Macau's face in his hands and kisses him, lets the slick of the water trickle between their tongues and lips, and Macau is still a little sloppy even as he learns Kim's mouth, and Kim isn't sure he's much better off as the taste of Macau ruins him.

He pushes Macau back, ignores the confusion and sadness that spread across his eyes and lips, and stalks forward until he has Macau's back at the wall of the shower.

He pauses to take Macau in, his soft and desperate expression, and drops to his knees.

Macau's cock is flushed, hard and straight and a little bigger than Chay's, and when he takes the soft tip of it in his mouth, he can feel Macau's thighs tense beneath his hands.

Kim goes down on him fully, takes his cock down his throat, and feels Macau's thighs tremble.

Macau won't say it, or maybe can't, but Kim knows he's going to come. He purses his lips, pulls back, swirls his tongue around the sensitive tip, and before he can swallow him down again, the trembling turns to shaking and Macau cries out, coming salty and thick in Kim's mouth.

The joy of full possession claims Kim, and he spits, smiles up at Macau, and catches him when his legs give out.

His little cousin has never kissed, never fucked.

Kim was the first, and he will take every first after.