𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝 | 𝐔𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐑𝐞𝐧

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ◈˚ 𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ◈

This is just porn, and I regret nothing.
Deep inside me, I felt the need to write Zenitsu getting dicked down from the front and back, so I didn't stop myself from creating this... whatever you wanna call it.

I have never, ever written a threesome before, so bear with me on this one.

Of course my dear neoconservatism0nive beta read this, thank you so much!

◈ There's no spoilers for the Manga, just stuff I made up while writing.
◈ Rengoku is (obviously) alive in this one
◈ Everything is Safe, Sane and Consensual
◈ The beautiful Zenitsu on the cover can be found here: https://twitter.com/zrssSm/status/1348264646868758532?t=AklYJRMNOWL65gIz4QKTuw&s=19

━━•◆°•°◈°•°◆•━━

It was a calm evening in Spring, as they sat together. Their first Spring, after Muzan had been defeated.

Most had survived, but experienced loss in one way or the other. Rengoku Kyojurou had lost his left eye before the final fight. His eardrums had also been damaged way earlier. Hence, he had been forced to retire.
In one eyed solidarity, Uzui Tengen had followed him a few months later. Along his left eye, he had also lost his left hand.

And Zenitsu...

Agatsuma Zenitsu had lost his family, like most did. He lost his Gramps, due to the man he had once called his brother. He watched other people die, the former mentioned men getting injured. He watched on, as his closest friends balanced on the thinnest lines between life and death, just like himself. His damage wasn't physically, but mentally. Scarring his body and mind for life. Emotionally, he was a disaster.

Perhaps that was the reason why he always tagged along, when the older men met up for a bottle of Sake. Most often three, sometimes even four. They handled their liqueur too well; often it even worried Zenitsu. Not that he'd tell them that. They would just tease him for it. They really loved doing so.
"Your hair's gotten longer, again, Zenitsu-kun.", Uzui smirked, as he lightly tugged on his hair. It was tied up in a high ponytail, reaching onto his shoulders now. On his other side, Rengoku brushed a choppy strand out of his face, "It suits you.". Zenitsu couldn't stop himself from blushing.

Every evening they met up, it would be exactly the same. They would sit down at a table closest to the engawa and open the shoji door leading outside. In good weather, they'd listen to the birds chirping outside, until it got too dark for them. Then, they'd listen to the crickets communicating, instead. In bad weather, they'd listen to the calming sound of the rain, with thunder roaring in the distance.
Whoever was the host of the three of them, would bring out the first heated bottle of Sake, along with three beautiful porcelain cups. In Uzui's estate, his wives would take over for the former Sound Hashira.

Then, they'd talk about who knew what. Unimportant things, the past. Sometimes about the present, seldom about the future. At a certain point, one Zenitsu reached the fastest and Rengoku the slowest, they'd get honest about their situations. Unfairness of life, things they were unable to do anymore, people they missed. Nightmares. So many nightmares. All the things they didn't allow themselves when sober, the things they feared and hurt.
In the end, they would always end up drunk. One after the other would fall asleep; either together in the tatami room or in different guest rooms, considering the count of their bottles.

"Still wanna be the most successful Oiran in Yoshiwara, huh?", another tug on Zenitsu's hair, as Uzui smirked at him teasingly. A deeper blush formed on the blond's cheek, embarrassed at the reference to their first and only mission they had together.