Devious Deities 2: Frisky Fecund Foxes Foment Freaky Fucking

>How long has it been since you left your human life behind? Years? Decades? It can’t possibly have been that long, but it feels almost as though centuries have passed. Without the movement of the sun to measure the days, your sense of time has become totally reliant upon the mortals who petition you for aid. They are one of your few lifelines in a time of great tumult.
>Speaking of which, you’ve become intimately aware of the fact that your divinity affords you precious little protection against stress despite your newfound physical resilience. Since Lord Susano was banished the balance of power has shifted yet again, bringing with it a whole slew of responsibilities that have you feeling the pressure.
>You had hoped things would calm down without that petulant idiot to bluster around picking fights with his siblings, but in his absence things have become busier than ever before. Gin and Inari can hardly spare a moment to spend with you outside of attending to your shared duties, both flitting in and out of the palace like ghosts while they try to press their hard-won advantage as much as possible.
>Unaccustomed to the intricacies of divine politics as you are, you can only take Inari’s word for it that things are going well and try to hold down the fort while they secure new alliances and strengthen old ones. Someone has to attend to your faithful followers, after all- even if that entails spending your every waking hour listening to prayers for as long as you can stand to do so.
 
>The tradesmen and merchants are at least consistent; concern for their profits and the quality of their wares is always first in their mind. The farmers are easy too- apart from the amount of energy you need to expend to give them successful harvests. More pressing, though, is the usual springtime stirring in the hearts and loins of men.
>You’re not all that surprised how many prayers revolve around sex and children at this time of year, but it brings a bitter smile to your face that you should be tasked with helping other people get off while your own lovers are in-absentia.
>It is as though nature itself is singing to you, screaming “FUCK” in your ears in the voice of every man in every house in every village in the world, and most of the animals; being inundated with unsatisfied lusts day after day is troublesome enough, but it also exacerbates your own dry spell more than you’d like to admit.
> At times like this, you’re glad that Inari showed you how to alter your genitals at will; if they were still his preferred size and productivity, you’d have been blue-balled into immobility within a day of his departure. How you long for the days when you could pin him down and take him just by imagining it!
>You can already feel yourself starting to leak against the inside of your fundoshi at the prospect, each fiber of the fine-spun garment setting your frustrated nerves alight. You reach down to adjust yourself, only for your hand to come back slimy with pre-seed. It looks like your liquid arousal has soaked through your robes… again.
>You martial your willpower and let your mind expand, trying to find a suitable distraction to help suppress your raging libido. After a moment you find one among the insects- watching a female mantis bite the head off her mate is more than sufficient to make your erection wilt in fear- you’ve never been so thankful you were born as a human after getting a bug’s-eye view on life.
 
>You’d never considered it before, but for some animals, sex is the last thing they ever do. Each clap of their lover’s hips against their own is a grain of sand through their life’s hourglass, a rapid countdown to their own demise. Sex isn’t so much a matter of pleasure as it is a game of survival, with the potential lives of their offspring as the score...
>Although, Inari certainly didn’t seem to be against the idea of keeping score when the subject last came up. As you recall, he was practically gushing about the idea of you keeping a perpetually pregnant harem of supernatural oddities and helping him take political power by pure numerical advantage.
>But the question remains nonetheless- how? If it were as simple as ordinary reproduction, you have no doubt that Inari would already be pregnant, given the number of times you’ve cum inside him. There must be a secret you’re not privy to- something beyond merely making the attributes in question more productive. You’ll have to ask him, one of these days.
>A part of you always wanted children, but you could hardly overcome the fundamental aspects of biology while you were still a mortal man; your disinterest in the fairer sex meant that you had to make do living vicariously through new parents around the village, playing the babysitter as often as you could. The priests would fuss at the thought of your impiety inspiring the youth to disobedience, but that only encouraged you to spend more time with them, and they with you.
>Maybe it’s your uniquely human mindset, but you had always looked forward to the idea- at a certain point in your life, though you had no children of your own, you came to appreciate the trappings of parenthood. Half the village called you uncle by the time you “passed on”, and nothing made you happier than to help new parents raise their kids; the sense of fulfillment you got from being implicitly respected, trusted, and looked up to was like no other.
>You’re still respected in a certain manner of speaking, but it leaves you unsatisfied to be treated well for reasons other than your own merits as an individual. Likewise, you can still feel others holding you at a distance, both because you outrank them and because you’re the newest person here. It’s readily apparent that none of the other kitsune quite know how to deal with your presence and have decided to do their best to stay out of your way until they have a better sense of your personality, much like your fellow gods.
>It’s hard to find fault with their actions, even if it puts you in something of a foul mood; as someone who spent much of his life avoiding people, you don’t have much ground to stand on in terms of asking them to do otherwise. Perhaps if you had some commonality between you other than your duty to Inari you might be able to bridge the gap more easily, but you can’t very well order them to keep you company and hope something develops. Well, you could, but it’s not your style.
 
>Instead, you decide to talk a walk in the garden to clear your head, letting the sight of the empty expanse soothe your mind as you wander the landscape. The grains of sand are cool and comfortable enough against your feet, but you cannot seem to make heads or tails of anything as you get deeper; at a brief backward glance you see your own footprints vanishing into the middle distance, as though the location were rejecting your presence and eroding all traces of disturbance from itself.
>Inevitably, your eye is drawn to the lone patch of rice, perpetually golden-eared and ready for harvest, and you walk over to it, caressing the holy symbol with reverent nostalgia. Gently, you run your hand through the stalks, letting them tickle against your skin as Inari and Gin’s own whiskers once did. Although your rational mind knows that you’re all in the same boat, this knowledge does not quell the storm of feelings raging in your heart.
>You briefly consider trying to summon them back for a little while, but just shake your head and sigh in resignation. Even if there’s no harm in a quick round in the bedroom or a day off here and there, it wouldn’t be right to selfishly insist that they spend time with you at the expense of their work.
>You want to prove that you deserve to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them as an equal partner and that they should be able to trust you to make do when circumstances force you to be apart. Likewise, even if you know neither of them would hold it against you, there are others in heaven who certainly would.
>Besides, if you’ve learned anything over the years with Inari and Gin, there’s no such thing as a “quick” round in the bedroom; if someone isn’t fucked-silly or rooted to the spot by the cum-laden weight of their own anatomy, it doesn’t really qualify as sex. Even if that someone is invariably Inari.
>You settle on allowing your imagination to take over as you slouch forward, letting the tongues of rice lick at whatever exposed flesh that they can find. As your fingers furrow the soil in which they grow, you are astonished at a sudden surge of warmth flowing up your arm. Ridiculous though it might seem to an observer, you can practically feel Inari’s divine energy radiating off this patch of rice, and it only intensifies your desire for companionship all the more.
>You embrace the earth as though it were your lover’s body, resting your face against it and letting its strange inner heat percolate through you. Near-inaudibly, you whisper your feelings into the dirt, lost in the fantasy of togetherness. In this moment of seclusion you feel no need to put on airs anymore, letting your long-bottled feelings vent themselves at last.
 
>Unbidden, memories flood back of the fateful night you were to be sacrificed; try as you might to fight those urges, you can’t help but see the parallel. You’re being watched, surrounded by fearful strangers, totally overwhelmed and living your life at someone else’s whim. The only thing that’s really changed is that you’re on the inside looking out rather than the reverse.
>Before, you could’ve at least fantasized about storming the palace and putting your foot up the culprit’s ass, however small your chances might’ve been of actually succeeding. Now, you know better. Inari would probably get off on having his inner sanctum violated and his ass beaten into next week; after you’ve worn him like a condom and pounded his insides to a pulp, you don’t have any reason to think his exterior would be any less resistant to pain.
>But worst of all, it feels like despite how much you’ve learned, you know almost nothing in the grand scheme of things: nothing about being a god, about running a palace, or about politics. And ultimately, you know so little about the men you’re going to be spending the rest of eternity with, it may as well be nothing with a capital “N”.
>You feel yourself start to tremble as you go through a litany of complaints, until a thunderclap and a gust of wind jolt you from the mental tirade. You spin around expecting the worst, but when no enemy appears the realization dawns that it was *you* that blackened the sky and stirred the wind to storm. Naturally, this only makes you feel worse.
>The empathic environment reacts to your every impulse as your mood continues to worsen; the ground before you fissures in response to your desire to crawl into a hole, and sheets of rain begin to fall like teardrops from your eyes. You flail awkwardly in search of purchase, trying to fight the effects of your emotions upon the landscape to no avail, feeling your stature deflating to match your battered ego. Just as you’re about to fall in one of the larger cracks, you feel someone catch you by the wrist and pull.
 
>As your bodies make contact, your eyes are blinded by the oncoming flash of red-white fur. Though you land roughly, you are instantly at ease knowing who cushioned your fall; the bulky musculature of your would-be savior could only belong to Gin.
>You kiss his pectoral gratefully, pressing your body deeper into his with all the urgency of a drowning sailor finding a piece of driftwood to cling to, and he tenderly rubs your back as his steady heartbeat sets your own to right. By the time you reopen your eyes, the thunder has abated, the wind has died, and the earth has closed; there is no trace of your outburst beyond the smudges of mud on Gin’s chest-fur and robes where you’ve cuddled up to him.
>”I’m sorry, Anon; we shouldn’t have left you for so long. Immortal though you are, you’re still less than a century old; by our standards, you’re like a child just learning to stand.”
>The familiar baritone rumble of Gin’s voice relaxes you, even though his words make your face go flush with embarrassment. He has taken a coaxing tone which nonetheless lends his words an air of authority; you want to protest your maturity for your species, but think better of it as he gives you a knowing look.
>”I don’t suppose you heard what I said while I was upset, did you?” you feebly ask, trying your best to save face.
>”You didn’t need to say anything”, he gently replies, “I felt it. We both did, from the moment you touched the rice.”
>Tracing a clawed digit over your shoulder-blade, he muses. “It was like the play of your lips against my chest just now- a desperate, yearning touch which sets fire to the soul. I would have to be a eunuch to ignore such an earnest affirmation of love, and a stone-hearted cad besides.”
>”It took us but a moment to work out who would finish off the latest round of negotiations. I expect Lord Inari shall be along shortly. Shall we make ready to receive him?”
>”How do you mean?”
>”I’m sure he’ll have worked up quite an appetite- seeing a plan come together always makes him hungry.” Gin says with a smirk, “But he’ll probably want a hot bath first to help him relax.”
>”What should we make him?”
>He cocks an eyebrow as if to say “What do you think?” and playfully strokes your butt with one of his tails. As your cock throbs to life against Gin’s midriff, all you can manage is a quiet, stuttering “O-oh”.
>“What about you?”
>Gin furrows his brow and you can hear him swallow audibly, wiping a small fleck of drool from his jowls before he answers. “I’ll just have some tofu, as usual. Now, follow me.”
>Gin disengages so that he can stand and you quickly follow suit. But even as you disappear alongside him into the palace’s mazelike corridors, a thought gives you pause; all this talk of bathing isn’t all that unusual given your disheveled state, but it strikes you as odd that you’ve never seen anything resembling a bathroom during your time here…
 
>The bathing area is, as you’d expect for someone of Inari’s status, large and imposingly furnished. As you look upon it, another memory stirs of your mortal life- once, when you were young, your grandfather took you to the next town over to bathe in a hot spring. You were thrilled, elated even, to be treated to such a luxury, though of course you’d groaned every step of the way along the pass through the mountains.
>The attendant was kind, patronizingly so, but the bath itself was the highlight of your life. At first, you’d huffed at the prospect of washing yourself *before* you got in, but once you had so much as one foot in the spring water you didn’t want to leave it; as you recall, Grandpa had to carry you to your room after the heat made you pass out.
>Inari’s private bath looks similar in design to the onsen you once visited, although you can’t really say for sure while you’re just standing in the antechamber. The floor is made of gray stone; it is roughly hewn enough that you have no fear of slipping, but also polished enough as to be aesthetically pleasing and comfortable to walk on. As you look down, you can also see a depressed hollow in the middle to prevent spilled water from flooding the hall. A number of wooden cabinets hugging the left wall look to contain tubs filled with bathing supplies, and a series of metal pumps on the other side look to dispense water for the preliminary wash. You rub your hands together, as eager to partake in the bath as you are to get out of your wet, dirty clothes.
>You try to strip as quickly as you can, but the soaked robe you’d been wearing clings to your form. You can hear Gin humming to himself pensively behind you as though unsure whether to offer his assistance in removing the sheer garments, and you take the opportunity to just teleport out of them before he can tease you too much.
>As you turn around to face Gin you can hear him click his tongue against the roof of his mouth and exhale sharply through his nostrils; though his face betrays no outward sign of annoyance, he must’ve been hoping that you’d give him more of a show. He follows your example, albeit in a less dramatic fashion, peeling the sodden clothes from his body with as much haste as circumstances will allow.
>Pouting, the elder fox squats near one of the pumps and places his basin neatly beneath its opening before setting to work. No sooner is the bucket full than does Gin upend it over his head, shuddering slightly as the frigid water flows down his body. Working the soap into a lather, his hands roam diligently to and fro over his muscled form, cleaning himself with efficiency and precision; if he was in the mood to look you over, the moment has evidently passed.
>Taking a seat next to Gintaro, you fill your own basin. Although the cold helps clear your head, a casual look to your left makes it fog right up again; with the water dampening Gin’s fur, his body is fully on display for you. His eyes are closed while he washes, so it’s not as though you’ll have a better chance…
 
>Even without the added volume of his fur, Gin’s body is still a treat to behold. The months he spent roughing it in the wild were good for him; though he’s still appreciably thick, he seems undeniably more toned than before. The muscle-gut he sported during his initial ascension has all but melted away, and you’d swear you can see a few places where the striation of his muscles is visible to the naked eye. Likewise, though it is partially matted with grime, the silver fox’s lustrous coat gleams in the low interior light, little iridescent bubbles casting rainbows around the room as he works himself over.
>You stop washing momentarily to get a better look, erection throbbing hotly against your thighs as you continue to indulge. As if on cue, Gin pours a fresh bucket of water over himself, and the cascade naturally draws your eyes along each crevice and curve in the landscape of his body.
>Starting from the head, it pours across his muzzle, pooling briefly in his collarbone before continuing its descent. As the water reaches his mountainous pectorals, it snakes between them as naturally as any river, splitting into smaller streams around the foothills and valleys of Gin’s abdominal muscles. As the tributaries rejoin around his groin, forced back together by the shape of his Adonis belt and beefy thighs, you can hardly take your mind off the stream’s destination; though they are obscured by the angle at which he sits, the plump sheath and pendulous balls that you know hang between his legs are the last stop before the water hits the floor and is carried away beyond the drain.
>Despite being naturally grizzled, Gin’s frame carries subtle hints of wear-and-tear from new exertions in the field. Upon closer inspection, the scarlet sigils that mark his divinity seem ruddy, almost blood-colored, and the erratic splotches of darker fur around his eyes and mouth seem more pronounced, along a noticeably thinner jawline. You can’t help the sudden urge to reach out and…
>He flinches as you brush one of his whiskers, and the whole atmosphere changes in an instant. Your hand freezes as Gin’s eyes pop open and his face contorts into a truly withering scowl; teeth bared and eyes narrowed, he curls his tails around his body and pins his ears to his skull, looking poised and ready to fight.
>An uncomfortable silence hangs between you even as Gin’s gaze and posture soften of their own accord. He eventually breaks eye contact and you pull your hand back, feeling guilty and confused; you know you’ve crossed a line, but you’re not quite sure what you’ve done to upset him to this degree. Likewise, he looks more than a little ashamed to have acted the way he did.
 
>It is at this moment that Inari manifests himself into the bathhouse, foppishly clasping his hands together in a gesture of irreverent glee. In Inari’s presence, Gin’s demeanor changes again and the tension dissipates just as quickly as it came; the only noticeable trace of any prior standoff is a slightly more guttural timbre in his voice as he greets his former master, almost like he’s trying to stifle a growl.  Gin excuses himself after the usual exchange of pleasantries, giving his seat to Inari before he pads off into the onsen without another word.
>Inari shrugs off his clothes and takes a seat next to you, letting his plush bottom impact the floor with an understated “plap”. His voice is soft and cordial when he greets you, but it carries a definite undertone of “We’re going to have a talk about this later”.
>Nevertheless he rests a paw on your shoulder and gives it a sympathetic squeeze; whatever the cause of Gin’s sudden discomfort, Inari does not hold you accountable. You busy yourself with washing, too rattled by the sudden shifts in mood to ogle your other bathing partner.
>Once you finish, you and Inari head deeper into the bath together as quietly as you can manage. The floor changes texture as you approach, no less opulent for its simplicity; the smooth black tiles of volcanic rock surrounding the bath are warm to the touch, and form an elegant frame for the miniature lake in its center. Despite their color, the tiles reflect light across the water and make it appear to glow as though lit from within. Warm vapor beads off the mineral-rich pool, filling the air with a soothing aroma; you already feel re-energized just standing in the room, barring the sight of the forlorn figure sitting solemnly at the water’s edge.
>Gin meditatively overlooks the spring, staring at his own reflection and sighing. Purposefully, he runs a digit along the black marks around his eyes, his touch lingering as he brushes the whiskers you touched earlier. Briefly, he strikes at his afterimage with a forepaw, mumbling what you think is “idiot” before embracing his knees and curling in on himself.
>Inari motions to you to stay put and keep quiet while he breaks the ice; you nod in assent, and in a flash, he’s at Gin’s side.
 
>”Gin?”
>”Milord.”
>You can see Inari’s ears flick in frustration at Gin’s stiff speech; you know it to be something of a touchy subject between them ever since you and Gin became gods in your own right. If Gin’s acting passive-aggressively towards the person he respects the most, it doesn’t bode well for the night’s proceedings.
>”Where’s Anon? Isn’t he with you?” Gin asks.
>”I told him to stay where he was. Did you want me to get him?”
>”...”
>”You don’t have to beat yourself up, you know. Anon doesn’t know anything. There’s no way he could; he wasn’t even born yet.”
>”All the more reason it feels wrong- he doesn’t know. It feels like I’m taking advantage of his naïveté. He might know that I was a yōkai, but he doesn’t understand what it entails.”
>”Then tell him.”
>”Tell him what? That I once ate souls the way he did grains of rice?!”
>”Tell him that what you were, you became out of circumstance. Tell him that you’ve done wrong, you’ve worked tirelessly to make up for. Tell him that you love him, and that’s what matters now. Something. Anything at all. It’s better than leaving him to flounder and fill in the blanks on his own.”
>”You could start by showing him your real face.”
>Gin recoils at Inari’s words, gripping his knees even more tightly, and you’re not too far behind. It’s fair enough that Gin didn’t immediately give you a list of everything he’d ever done wrong, but it still bothers you to think that he held you at such a distance from the get-go and that he’d never seen fit to close it in all your time together. What could motivate him to be so secretive?
> Almost as though he’s reading your mind, Inari asks “You know he has nothing but good feelings for you. Why are you so afraid to open up and let yourself get attached to him?”
>Voice wavering, Gin whispers “Because I remember what happened the last time.”
 
>At this, Inari goes silent. His tails droop, and he all but collapses on the spot, embracing Gin from behind. Though his voice is faint, you can hear him whisper back “I won’t ask you to forgive me.”
>Cuttingly, Gin replies “Then you’ve no right to tell me to forgive myself.” Pointedly, he adds “We’ve all made mistakes, and we have to live with them.”
>This is the coldest Gin has ever acted towards anyone, your own little spat with him notwithstanding. Although you have no idea what initially caused the rift between them, you do know it’s been an ongoing problem since before you first met.
>Though you feel no better equipped than you did before to handle centuries-old relationship issues, you feel you’ve got to try; their happiness is your happiness, and you will fight for it as long as is necessary. The remnants of your stormy mood whip the sea of righteous anger in the pit of your stomach into a surge of confidence and you start towards them. However, as the conversation starts back up again the feeling ebbs briefly, held back by a growing curiosity.
>”Can we at least agree that our relationship with Anon isn’t a mistake?” Inari asks anemically.
>”Of course…provided that we both treat him with the respect he deserves. If we are in agreement that doing so includes sharing our most shameful secrets, I trust you’ll do your fair share- lest I do it for you. I will not allow the past to repeat itself, under any circumstances.”
>”Understood.”
>Seeing Gin keep Inari on the back foot for so long sets you on-edge -if not for the fact that Gin doesn’t know you’re listening in, you’d think that it was a total loss on Inari’s part. You decide to continue your approach, taking advantage of the momentary lull to make your presence known.
>The two foxes turn to look at you in unison, Inari’s smiling wryly and Gin frowning in an attempt to look serious. Gin’s mouth opens reflexively as you sidle up alongside them, as though he wants to speak, but no words come out. He trembles as you embrace him from the front before leaning back into your hug, taking Inari with him.
>Sandwiched between you and Inari as he is, Gin can only maintain his aloof façade for so long; soon enough, his tails begin to sway, betraying his brightening mood. Between the warmth of the hug and the heat from the sauna to your back, you feel yourself beginning to sweat and promptly let go, falling backwards gracelessly into the spring.
>Even though you know you can’t drown, you still panic slightly as water gets up your nose, instinctively sputtering and coughing as you sink into the pool. Though it takes you just a second to resurface, you can hear Inari’s raucous laughter even through the water, and see Gin holding a paw in front of his muzzle, trying to muffle his own mirth.
>Without thinking, you vault out of the bath, grabbing the two foxes and taking them with you as you fall back in; though you’d never be able to overpower both of them normally, their awkward position at the water’s edge allows you to budge their combined bulk over the short distance. As they hit the water, they separate, eager and ready to roughhouse. Soon, you’re all laughing and splashing one another without a care in the world.
> By the time you tire out, things have returned to sweet normalcy. The three of you rest cozily against one another, enjoying the indoor spa. The hot water ripples every so often with your combined breathing, but you can hardly tell what’s what anymore, lulled as you are by the comfortable heat. The endless demands of your station and your mortal worshippers seem so far away in this singular moment of tranquility.
 
>You’re just about to nod off when a cavernous grumble shakes you from your stupor, like a localized earthquake centered straight in Gintaro’s gut. He fumbles, attempting to cover himself, but he can’t move freely with his arms around you and Inari- he has no choice but to ride out the shame he tries to shield his pride from his body’s wantonness.
>Inari gives Gin’s chest a flirtatious fondle, and the other fox’s movements become less erratic. With just a hint of smugness, Inari lets go and rises vertically through the water until only his paws rest on the surface, giving you both quite an eyeful.
>Though you neglected to check him out on the way in, Inari’s departure is no less titillating than his arrival. Graceful as always, his frame has also been altered somewhat by his long journey; when last you saw him, he possessed an almost heroic build, just slightly leaner than Gin – as it is, his body shows the telltale signs of starvation and overuse of his powers. He’s not quite emaciated, but is still far leaner than he should be.
>Still, he cuts an attractive figure, even if he’s thinner than you’d like. His body possesses a statuesque beauty- delicate in appearance, but sturdy as stone at its core. Though his spread tails obscure most of his upper back, you can see his pride and joy remains unmarred by starvation- his bottom and thighs are still delightfully rounded.
>Pressing his hands together briefly in a gesture of concentration, Inari’s fur instantly dries and retakes its old volume in a shower of mist. He saunters off, happy enough to have masked his body’s proportions for the brief interval it’ll take for him to walk to the master bedroom, curling his tails provocatively in invitation to follow.
>Once Inari is out of sight, Gin clambers out of the pool on all fours, shaking himself dry from head to toe. His fur rapidly puffs out due to the warmth and humidity in the air, making him look almost like a living cloud of fog, an effect enhanced by his near-silent footfalls as he pads out of the room.
>Not wanting to be left behind, you emerge from the bath in short order. You decide to take the simpler option and manifest yourself directly in the bedroom in the most provocative pose imaginable, hoping it’ll give you a chance to make it up to Gin for not showing off earlier. In your mind’s eye, you see yourself reclining on the bed, resting a hand expectantly at your crotch, working as much smoldering arousal into your face as you can. As the scenery fades in, you open your eyes and see… a startled servant, blushing so furiously you could swear that he had his own set of divine markings.
>The flustered fox genuflects to you and throws open the door as he flees, tripping right into Inari as you scramble to cover your shame with a nearby pillow. Inari, ever the tempter, gives you a satisfied smile as he attempts to further excite his lusty lackey. His hands roam playfully over his target as he whispers countless coquettish comments, poking and squeezing the other fox’s body every so often until a timely cough from Gin stops his hands travelling too far below the belt. As the confounded courtier excuses himself again, you catch a subtle tint of red between his thighs, a telltale sign of emerging lust.
 
>”Why did you do that?” you squeak, having finally recovered enough from your embarrassment to address your partner.
>”Just preparing a little snack for later.” Inari smarms as he walks towards the bed. When he sees your frown, he adds. “I’m just making sure he knows what a specimen you are. Once word spreads, the others won’t be so hesitant to approach you. Weren’t you worried about that?”
> “The last thing I need is more gossip.” You groan, a little put off that Inari could guess your unspoken feelings with so little to go on. “I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”
>Musing, almost to himself, Inari replies “About what? They’re going to talk, regardless. The only way I’ve found to stop a fox from gossiping is to fill their mouth with something more *appetizing* than mere words. This way, at least he’ll pay you the appropriate respect.”
>”Respect? Is that what you call it?”
>Sensing your mounting frustration, Inari opts to close the distance. He grasps you gently by the chin, pulling your gaze to his eye-level before he continues. In retaliation, you reach forward and pinch him on the nipple, and his smug grin widens ever more toothily. You stop almost immediately, determined not to give him any further satisfaction.
>”I mean it. You’re a sex god now, so you might as well start learning how to act like it. Focus on that fox later tonight. Draw strength from his orgasm as you hear him moan your name into his pillow- oh! “
>”Don’t belabor the point, milord.” Gin interrupts, tail-slapping Inari’s butt so hard that you perceive an audible, whip-like *crack*. Inari jumps forward, landing on top of you as Gin chews him out. All you can focus on is that even with his full body weight atop yours, he feels frail and insubstantial- you need to feed him, and soon.
>“I know you’re concerned about Anon, but I trust I needn’t remind you that scheming is best kept outside the bedroom. He will find his way, with or without our intervention.”
>Inari pouts but remains silent, cuddling against you and letting his breath tickle your chest. You lay a hand on his head and scratch between his ears- though it doesn’t quite elicit the response you want, he takes your meaning well enough. Satisfied that Inari has been chastened sufficiently, Gin joins you both on the bed while you hug it out, taking hold of your other arm and pinning it beneath him.
>After a short while, you feel the subtle sucking sensation of Inari siphoning off some of your excess energy. It appears that despite his earlier intentions, he’s taking a more reserved approach to this feeding; he really does care what the two of you think of him, even if he can’t quite resolve himself to let old habits die.
 
>You’re happy enough for the company, but the close contact has given your body other ideas even in lieu of any physical excitement. Insistently, you feel your erection throbbing higher, and you start to squirm, trying to indicate to either fox that you’re ready and raring to go.
>To your surprise, Gin takes you up on the offer first; although you’ve engaged each other on sexual terms in the past, it’s never been like this before. He shimmies his way down to your pelvis while Inari takes advantage of the free real estate around your chest to ease closer, taking a little nibble on your neckline.
>As Gin spreads your thighs for easier access, you can’t help but shudder; though neither of the foxes are particularly rough in their ministrations, you’re so pent up it hardly matters. Gin looks at you as though he’s just slightly unsure about what he’s doing, and you wave your hand in quiet encouragement as the first rivulet of pre-seed runs down your cock.
>With all the trepidation of a virgin, he noses your crotch, gingerly licking up the errant droplets of pre and snuffling around as though trying to memorize your scent. He knows it well enough after the decades you’ve spent together, but the feeling of novelty is still there, and all the awkward eagerness that accompanies it.
>A little moan escapes your lips as Gin runs a paw over your spit-slick sack. He hesitates, eying your shaft warily before properly taking you into his muzzle, fondling the jewels beneath as though they were worth their weight in gold. However, his manner changes the moment your dick hits his tongue and in no time at all, he’s slurping away with abandon.
>Gin growls around your shaft as he works it over, letting his tongue curl this way and that as he services you. However, you quickly notice something is definitely off. His performance is exceptional, but he doesn’t really seem fully aware of what he’s doing; he’s almost feral, and his movements betray no sign of anything other than raw animal hunger, heedless of anything resembling his earlier shame or worry.
>It’s a very aggressive blowjob, all told. Gin bobs his head at strange angles, letting your cock butt against whatever purchase it can find in search of the best stimulus to make you climax; from his flawless teeth to the rough edges of his palate, he moves as though trying to coat every possible surface in his mouth with your delectable fluids.
>So as not to be outdone, Inari steps up the aggressiveness of his kisses, and everything starts to go hazy as both foxes start feeding in tandem. The depth of Inari’s kiss takes your breath away, but addled as you are, the burning in your lungs is just another erotic stimulus.
>Your entire existence is wrapped around their questing tongues, and you find yourself awash in a sense of comfort and fulfillment that pierces you to the very soul; there is nowhere else you’d rather be than in your lovers’ embrace, and nowhere else in creation that you so utterly, undeniably belong.
>In no time at all, you’re pushed over the edge, but the whole experience has been so pleasant it’s as if you’ve been riding a low-grade orgasmic high for the whole duration. Lazily, you moan into Inari’s mouth as the first spurts of cum enter Gin’s.
>Their markings crackle with latent power, dyeing the entire room a progressively deepening shade of red as they take in more of your energy. You can feel little touches of their frames thickening despite the sudden inability of your eyes to focus; Inari’s chest feels weightier against your own, and Gin’s sloppy slurping grows louder as his jowls fill out and his face retakes its old shape.
>Your orgasm is no less intense than usual despite its rapid onset; it feels for a brief moment as though that’s all there is. You can feel every droplet of cum as it surges up your shaft, every minute twitch of your muscles vibrating with pleasure – each fresh spurt brings a new wave of ecstasy that sweeps your consciousness away in its fearsome tide.
>Pulse after pulse runs through your groin as Gin tightens his grip on your family jewels; as the flow of seed begins to taper off, you feel his throat ripple against your length ever more forcefully in conjunction with his paws squeezing your sack- it’s as though he won’t be satisfied until you’re well and truly empty. If he’s usually this hungry, he certainly doesn’t show it; it’s hard to imagine such powerful lust seething beneath the outward surface of level-headed stoicism he usually presents.
>A sudden onrush of cold air on your shaft is the only clue that Gin has departed, heralding the end of your dreamlike orgasm. Though your vision is obscured by Inari’s body, you can make out an uneven thudding as Gin staggers out of the room, and you instinctively reach for him before all goes white.
 
>You awaken some time later to a hand resting gently on your back, an exaggerated sigh of disappointment and a familiar set of red eyes looking playfully up at you. It takes a moment for your sleep-fogged brain to register it, but you’re no longer resting on the mattress; you chuckle inwardly at the idea that Inari feels most comfortable beneath you, even when sleeping.
>“I had hoped to watch you for a little longer.” Inari says, his flair for the dramatic every bit as prominent as you remember.
>You can hear his joints stretch and pop as he releases you from the hug, but the added height isn’t the only clue that his frame has changed; he’s comfortable to lay upon for reasons beyond his luxurious fur. A slight layer of plush pudge has formed along Inari’s stomach, his thighs feel appreciably thicker, and a sultry squeeze confirms the presence of love-handles and a curvier bottom.
>“My, my. I might have to keep this extra weight on if your first thought after getting fucked to exhaustion is to start feeling me up. Don’t be shy about finishing what you start, Anon- I could always go for seconds.”
>You lay an accusatory nibble on Inari’s neck, and you are lifted by the force of his sharp inhale as he arches his back in submission. The moment you’re sure he’s going to let you talk without teasing any further, you respond.
 >“And who exactly was it that talked about, and I quote “spending the rest of eternity with my cock inside them, if circumstances would allow”? You didn’t have to keep eating while I was asleep, either...”
>“I think I showed admirable restraint in stopping once you passed out. This little bit of weight I picked up was just residual. It’s not to say I didn’t like kissing you, but Gin took the lion’s share by far.”
>”Speaking of, he’s never acted like that before. Is he alright?”
>”He’s at odds with himself, in a manner of speaking. He doesn’t know what to do about you.”
>You press yourself a little deeper into Inari’s chest before giving voice to your insecurities.  ”Did I do something wrong? Is that why he doesn’t want me to see his real face?”
>”No- he’s always had trouble getting close to people. You’re very much alike in that regard. Beforehand, I think he could brush it off as a necessity of the occupation; you were united in your service to me, in the bedroom or otherwise.”
>”But this is the first time he’s taken the direct approach. Now, he can’t ignore what he feels because he acted of his own accord, and therein lies the conflict.”
>”Why would he feel conflicted?”  
>”…”
>“Because of me. Because I asked too much of him once upon a time.”
>Gathering your courage, you prepare to press Inari for answers. You know that the knowledge he’s about to impart to you will drastically alter the course of your relationship with both of the foxes, and potentially even your conception of the world around you. Nervously, you ask the obvious question after a too-long silence.
>“What did you do?”
>“It’s a long story.” He says bluntly. “But you deserve to know, nonetheless. I can’t give you all the details- the only one who knows exactly how Gin feels is the man himself. One thing I will be able to tell you, though, is that you probably won’t like me much by the end.”
 
>”It was long ago, but not so very long ago. I was myself, but not as you know me. I was younger then, and I possessed all the spirited self-absorption of youth. In those days, I fought with Susano just to pass the time. I used to be a lot like him: arrogant, impulsive, and petty.”
> “One day, a certain fox went to a temple and prayed to me, begging for my intercession on behalf of his family. They were being hunted down because of him, he said, and he feared for their lives.  Though he spoke eloquently and prayed devoutly, I did not care to listen. And when they were killed, he became a holy terror in his grief.”
>”This fox was young- he did not even possess all 9 of his tails, not yet a full-fledged adult by his people’s standards. He was all alone, despised by all that knew of him, and on the run from hunters. He hated the gods, and all we stood for, and for good reason. And from his hatred grew a grudge that would shake the pillars of heaven.”
>”This sounds uncomfortably familiar.” you interrupt. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a weakness for people that hate you.”
> “Hardly.” Inari replies glibly. “If that were the case, I’d also be giving His-Swift-Impetuous-Son-of-a-booger this talk.”
>”Point taken.” You say, snickering a little bit at the surprisingly juvenile insult- Inari should certainly be able to come up with a better insult than that to describe his mortal enemy.
>”To return to the topic at hand, Gin managed to survive against all odds. He killed or outwitted all those who approached him, and he grew strong. And when he felt he was ready, he challenged me. He set fire to the temple at which I had rejected his prayers all those years ago as a declaration of war. But still, I did not answer.”
>“When gods don’t want to be seen, we are close as your own shadow and as far away as the stars in the night sky. By denying him the chance to confront me directly, I forced Gin to use guile instead; he played every trick in the book and invented a few of his own as he sought my destruction.”
>”Like any proper god would, I ignored him until it was impossible to do so any longer; he was beneath my notice until he had me by the throat. His strong, callused paws-”
>”What did he do?” you interject, cutting Inari off from his walk down memory lane.  “How did he finally get your attention after so much time?”
>”He went after my food supply. He systematically sought out my worshippers and, by whatever means, convinced them to renounce me. I’d rather not go into the gory details- just try to imagine what a powerful demon might do if he hated you enough to want to savor your demise.”
>”By the time I saw fit to face him, he had weakened me so much that I could hardly resist his blows; without sufficient faith to sustain my godly form, I became little more than an ordinary fox, hopelessly outmatched by a gallant revolutionary. I had no choice but to surrender myself to his terms…”
>”To walk the earth until I understood the error of my ways.”
 
>”That’s all?” you posit. “Why didn’t he just kill you?”
> “He was too smart for that.” Inari remarks. “He knew that everyone would starve if I was killed, and no matter how much I might’ve deserved it, he would never be foolish enough to accept mutual destruction. In order for his victory to be complete, he was determined to break me of my worst habits and then turn me loose after I’d learned my lesson.”
>“You didn’t just lie? What was to stop you from going back on your word?”
> At this, Inari looks at you with mild disappointment. “Kitsune are tricksters by nature, Anon; Gin would never have fallen for something that basic. Furthermore...” he tut-tuts, practically wagging his finger in disapproval, “A god cannot break an oath that he swears in his name. Or at least, not easily. That’s part of why I got so annoyed when we first met- I didn’t want to be bound again.”
>“I wanted to strike him dead the moment I had regained enough strength to shoot a bolt of lightning, but even that wouldn’t have truly freed me. I wasn’t happy about it, but I was stuck with him nonetheless; every day we walked at a grueling pace, and talked until our voices grew hoarse. He was full of questions, full of anger, and determined to wring whatever answers he could from me about how Heaven’s politics influence the mortal world’s injustices.”
>“In return, he would tell me more about the mortal world, and make me experience as much of it as he was able. Every time I suffered, I grew to empathize a little more with the fleeting lives I governed. And suffer I did, from all manner of cuts, bruises, burns, punctures, sprains, strains, and broken bones; it was only natural- I had never been outside before.”
>“I was like a flower raised in a glass box; beautiful in my own kingdom, but useless in the wild. And he, the hardy wildflower, all the more beautiful for having bloomed in adversity. We became inseparable, entwined at the roots. He was my judge, jailor, and executioner, but also my guide, my provider, and my truest companion.”
>“Rage turned to respect, ignorance into understanding, and loathing into love. We saved one another’s lives on more than one occasion; he deflected the fangs and claws of other yōkai who came to take their pound of flesh from a fallen god, and I shattered thunderbolts and parted floodwaters sent by the other gods to smite him. All that, just from walking and talking.”
>”By the time he was willing to let me return to heaven, I couldn’t bear to be without him. I begged him to stay at my side as a servant in name only. Who better to help me change Heaven from the inside than the man who changed me? To this day, that’s what we’ve worked towards.”
>After a short pause, Inari squints, quietly adding. ”And I nearly ruined what we had together in the attempt”.
 
>For your part, you decide to lapse into silence and let Inari finish his story without further interruption; it’s clearly a sore subject despite how many years have passed, and Inari’s posture mirrors his emotional exhaustion. Although he’s reclining on his back, he seems to sink further into the bed as he recounts the story; if he were to go any more limp, you’d think he were comatose, and his speaking volume mirrors his spent stance.
> “Gin and I were treated like pariahs. When he dragged me down to earth, the other gods learned from my great humbling. They harbored no pretensions of civility towards him; he was never looked at, nor spoken to, nor given enough freedom to learn anything that could be used against them.”
> “For having been so thoroughly disgraced, I became as a foreigner in my own home. None of the changes I tried to enact gained any sort of traction, and being seen with me in itself was a social faux pas.”
> “Desperate to advance our cause, we turned to more extreme measures. I was married to someone else, and slowly began to ingratiate myself among Izanagi’s children. Gin threw himself into his role as my servant to quell suspicion even if it meant being publicly humiliated, and I played up my old persona for the sake of our new audience. After all our adventures together, we both wound up right back where we had started- he a furious outcast with nowhere to go, and I a manipulative tyrant. At least, on the surface.”
>”Every so often we would find a moment meet in private and the masks would come off, and we would smile again, together. But those meetings became less and less frequent as life became busy and other plans were set into motion. My unequaled ability to lie worked against me, then. So long had passed that even Gin doubted my real intentions. Only in hindsight did I fully realize my terrible cruelty.”
>Inari turns his head at a strange angle in an attempt to avoid your gaze, but pinned to his chest as you are, he can only expose his throat to you. His voice carries the bitter timbre of one who has spent countless hours of self-reflection picking apart his every mistake; though his tone is snide, you get the feeling he’s mocking himself rather than anyone else.
>”How many years could you have stood it? How much time could you have spent watching the man you loved fall into the arms of someone else before you would’ve snapped? How long would you have pined away before love turned into jealousy and indignation? Can you even imagine such an awful loneliness, to lose everything you have ever loved twice over?”
>“Gin shut his feelings for me deep inside his heart in order to survive, like an animal that gnaws its own leg off to escape a snare. My negligence hurt him so gradually that I barely noticed until it was far too late; imperceptibly as a stone being worn down by the beating of the sea, his heart began to break.”
> “Casual though sex is among our kind, love is rare; real love, of the kind that Gin has for me is more precious than all the treasure beneath the moon. And those sentiments endure to this day for reasons I can’t fathom, however grievously they’ve been damaged.”
> “Had he simply resolved to leave me, I would’ve accepted it. Likewise, I would gladly offer him my life if he asked, as I once offered it to you. But he loves me. However much it hurts him, he *loves* me. In his own way, he has already forgiven me- and somehow, that hurts far more deeply than merely being hated.”
>“Even though I can act more freely now that the political pendulum has swung in our favor, that doesn’t ease the heartache or erase the years of pain he had to endure to get here. Despite my best efforts to the contrary, he still wears his mask; he’s still afraid of expressing his real intentions no matter how our position has changed.”
>“Which is why it’s such a milestone that he took the initiative earlier. He was more concerned for your well-being than he was with mine- and what’s more, he threatened to spoil my plans if he felt they didn’t treat you with the appropriate respect. For just an instant, he had a resolute fire in his eyes- he looked like the man I fell in love with all those years ago.”
>“His feelings for you make him want to take the mask off again, and I think that if you’ve any intention of pursuing a deeper relationship with him you need to be prepared for his advances. I’m not saying you should jump into his arms the next time he asks, but you should try to keep in mind how difficult it is for him to ask.”
>”What sort of advances are we talking about?” you say, thinking back to the incident in the bath. “I don’t want to misinterpret anything if his emotional situation is that precarious.”
> “He’s not unstable, it’s just… I’ll say it like this: there might be plenty of fish in the sea, but that doesn’t mean they all take the same bait. Me? I’m easy. My advances are very obvious, as are my expectations of my partners.”
>“Gin is… special, and for everyone’s sake, I’m going to keep my hands out of it. Woo him like you would any other man. Spend time with him and the rest will happen of its own accord. Furthermore, if you’re not comfortable with how things are progressing, just tell him and he’ll wait for you to come to him at your own pace. Heaven knows he’ll wait.”
 
>Content to have finished his story, Inari sits up and looks to you for a response. His eyes look dull and glassy, as though the mere act of telling it drained him somehow. You aren’t quite sure how to feel yet- while you are grateful for the information, quite a few problems still niggle at you.
>You remember Gin warning you at your first meeting that appearances were deceiving, but you’d never imagined how many layers of disguises were in play. It boggles the mind to think that both of your lovers kept up a centuries-long facade for the sake of political gain- regardless of the outcome, you’d be a fool not to consider the implications.
>This must be why Inari made a point of asking Gin if taking you as a third was a mistake- to affirm their mutual commitment to you. But a little spike of paranoia has wedged itself in your heart; how can you be sure that wasn’t an act, as well?
>Your mind races, seeking something – anything to grab on to, but all you are left with is more uncertainty. If Gin has been merely playing the servant all this time, then what else has he been hiding? Did Inari ever truly love his wife, or was she just another tool to be used and thrown away? And what does that make you? How can you trust anything he’s said, even something as simple as “I love you”?
>Beneath you, Inari shudders, voicelessly jolting you from your spiral. Though he does not speak, you feel his chest heave as he begins to weep, clutching you harder to himself. You feel his temperature spike and his throat quiver as he starts to whine more audibly.
>Desperately, he grasps at you as though trying to press his affection into your body with force alone. If nothing else, it’s clear that he knows what you’re thinking- it may well be written all over your face that you don’t trust him in light of this new revelation. His voice resounds over your mental link, wavering in and out as his concentration lapses, carrying waves of guilt and despair.
> “I knew you’d feel ... I don’t deny … what I’ve done… a terrible sin. You were right … no faith in ... I don’t deserve…”
 
>You are torn. On the one hand, Inari seems genuine- he deliberately told you information that would potentially jeopardize your relationship, and he has always acted in the best interests of humanity for as long as you’ve known him. Nevertheless, merely telling the truth about his wrongdoings does not absolve him of guilt, especially when the scars run so deep as to affect the present day.
>Try as you might to shake the feeling, there’s always something off-putting about talking to him for any length of time. Even if you’ve achieved equal rank to him, conversations like this tend to reveal that you aren’t really his equal by any means.
>It’s only natural, in a sense. In Gin’s own words, you’re like a newborn learning to stand- you know so little about the two foxes because there’s so much to know. Gin’s got more than a millennium on you, and Inari has even more than that, so the idea of being able to truly understand them feels impossibly far away. However, you know that even the longest journeys must have first steps, and as you gather your resolve, you begin to take yours.
>Gingerly, you wrap your arms around Inari’s back in a simple gesture of comfort. He doesn’t speak, but his grip on you softens, and his inelegant blubbering begins to slacken off. As you pull back, you wipe the remnants of tears from his eye, and kiss him tenderly on the forehead.
>You want to scold him, but you can’t help feeling that despite your ties to the two kitsune and your stake in their relationship, it really isn’t your right to do so. You cannot set right what went wrong, nor can you involve yourself in something so deeply personal in good conscience. All you can do is support them both as best you can while they work it out on their own.
>“You’re too good to me.” He mumbles into your sternum, letting his flicking ears betray his anxiety.
>It’s a simple phrase, but there is a strange sense of purity in such simplicity. Inari is usually so talkative; given his tendency to run away with his imagination, a part of you thought he’d be talking your ear off about the current situation or trying to probe your thoughts. Perhaps this is the only way he knows to show that he means what he says- to speak sparingly, and with an air of finality.
>After a short while, you fall backward out of Inari’s lap and roll out of bed onto the floor. As you stand up, you catch a faint smile on his muzzle, the slight upturn in his jowls a sure sign of his fading melancholy.
>You rise to your feet, manifesting a clean robe on your person with a simple act of will. You know you’ll have your work cut out for you, but that’s ultimately what you need, more than anything else- a straightforward goal to keep you grounded beyond the daily subterfuge and political maneuvering that estranged your two lovers from one another.
>“Where are you going?” Inari asks, breaking the momentary silence.
>You smile, and say “Where I am needed” as you walk out into the hall. Inari snickers softly at your sudden attempt to sound cool, but you can practically feel him beaming at you as you vanish into the distance.
 
>Gin is easy enough to get hold of- he all but pounces on you once you get out of Inari’s earshot, apologizing for his behavior in the bath and the bedroom while bowing deeply. You meet his anxiety with understanding all the same; if you are to help Gin move forward, you can’t hold every little thing over his head, and you tell him as much.
>You kneel, bringing yourself to eye-level when Gin does not immediately right himself, and he quickly follows suit, timidly meeting your gaze as you sit in the middle of the walkway surrounding the palace perimeter.
>Scooting forward, you lay your hand on Gin’s paw, gingerly spreading your digits. After a moment, Gin catches on, trying to interlace his furred fingers with yours, before eventually settling for cupping your hand instead, to work around the unwieldy thickness of his body.
>Wordlessly, he squeezes your hand into his chest, and you immediately notice a difference: his heart is fluttering, his breathing is fast, and he feels warm beyond what you could expect for someone that just stepped out of a hot bath.
>Ironically, it seems as though Gin’s sordid past makes him treat relationships with a certain degree of reverence; it’s actually pretty cute watching the battle-scarred old demon fidget as he bares his feelings. The irony is not lost on you- the very same man who casually joked about sex being “just another form of greeting” among his species after Inari took your virginity melts like spring snow in the sunny warmth of a genuine romantic touch.
>A cautious smile forms on your partner’s muzzle, and you return it with a quiet nod. It may be difficult for Gin to outright say what he wants, but his actions speak louder than words- you’re the reason for the nervous tremor in his chest, and he wants you to know it. That, in itself, makes you happy- it feels more substantial than any verbal affirmation of love could be.
>Not content to leave it at that, you bring your clasped hands lip-ward, kissing the back of Gin’s paw and starting to trail kisses up his meaty forearm. Although a telltale twitch in Gin’s robe confirms his interest, his eyes dart around worriedly and you relent- neither of you would particularly care to be caught in the act by a servant twice in one day. Still, the fact that the option is open means you have all the time in the world, so long as your schedules will allow.
 
>The next day, Inari announces to his court that he intends to make an extended stay in the palace. You can’t really be sure what his intentions are: maybe he’s eager to test out some new schemes on his competitors, maybe there are certain duties he can only attend to from home, or maybe he just missed you. Whatever the reason, you look forward to the opportunity to spend time with your two favorite foxes.
>He’s set up an informal gathering in the garden, and all the servants are in attendance. With a flick of Inari’s wrist, he transforms one of the large boulders into a simple platform so that everyone can see the three of you better. As you gaze out into the crowd, you are astonished at the sheer number of foxes with eyes riveted to the impromptu dais- they are tall, small, fat, lithe, buff, and everything in between, all with rich golden fur mirroring Inari’s own private patch of rice.
>As might be expected, the fox himself does most of the talking- given that you have nothing to do but sit there and be seen, your mind phases in and out, lost in your daydreams. From his position next to you atop the stage, Gin idly brushes your thigh with one of his tails, and you return his subtle affection with a gentle squeeze of its tip. Though you can do no more before the watchful eyes of your subordinates, it’s nice to see that he’s willing to make his feelings known in public, however understatedly.
>The servants react with nothing less than overwhelming support for Inari’s announcement, the assembled crowd erupting into joyous howls, whistles, and applause at the return of their master. You’re not sure if you should take it as a sign of Inari’s popularity or your own fearsome reputation that nobody seems to mind that your regency has ended.
>Once they’ve dispersed, however, Inari excuses himself to the study, giving you some alone time with Gin. Though you feel his scheming hands at work, you’re thankful that Inari will most likely be taking a larger share of work off your shoulders in order to facilitate your budding relationship. And sure enough…
 
>“Would you indulge me?”
> The words ring out, plaintively, unspoken. Although you’ve grown increasingly used to this type of communication, it still unnerves you slightly to “hear” someone else’s voice in your head. Despite this, it feels strangely intimate when another mind brushes yours- it’s easier to intuit someone’s emotions through the connection than trying to read facial cues or body language because you can actually feel it yourself. Your answer, an immediate “yes”, brings a surge of flustered happiness as Gin’s feelings rebound over your mental link.
>The tail you’d been holding onto curls around your wrist, and Gin uses the added leverage to sweep you into his arms- it looks like he can be quite forward when he feels so inclined. Though you can feel his heart is beating into his chest like a blacksmith’s hammer at an anvil, you can sense no stirrings to the south, even as you start to lean into his embrace more deeply- whatever appetite he means to indulge, it isn’t sexual.
>Instead, he falls backwards, and the scenery begins to swim. As the floor bucks and writhes beneath you like a wild horse, you can only press yourself more firmly into Gin’s chest and hang on for the ride; it’s hard to tell if he intends to get you worked up, or if it’s merely a side-effect of whatever strange magic he’s working.
>By the time the feeling fades and you can bear to reopen your eyes, the scene that greets you is nearly pitch black. You’ve spent so long in Heaven that your eyes have trouble adjusting to the gloom, and you blink several times in the hopes that it will aid their recovery. You can make out something resembling a copse of trees, some lights in the distance, and a few rocky outcroppings, but there are hardly any landmarks or points of reference. Finally, Gin’s voice jolts you from your stupor, its rich cadence washing over you like the gentle lapping of waves along a shoreline.
>“Did you miss the dark?”
 
> You attempt to will the groggy sensation to leave you, and as your eyes refocus you take in your first sight of the mortal world in what feels like years. There are no words to describe how glad you are to see it- so many sensations flood back at once, you feel immediately at home, and utterly overwhelmed.
>The first thing you notice is the chill- the night wind whips your face with cutting ferocity as it gusts, pushing you deeper into Gin’s arms. The cool of your surroundings and the heat of your partner’s touch vie for control of your body temperature. He ‘speaks’ again after a short interlude, unwilling to use his vocal cords to compete with the breeze.
>“Shall I make shelter for us, Anon?” he says, reluctantly setting you down before pulling you into a deep, standing hug. “I would not beteem the winds of heaven to visit your face too roughly.”
>“No thank you.” Comes your reply, filled with a strange sense of exuberance. “It’s nice to be cold every now and again. I had almost forgotten what it was like.”
>“Heaven makes masochists of us all, I see. Either that, or Lord Inari is rubbing off on you.”
>“How do you mean?”
>“People naturally desire what they do not have. When one has naught but pleasure every day, as in Heaven, it makes them wish for something- anything different.”
>“Were you still mortal, you would be at home trying to keep warm, sleeping, or…” Gin says, giving you a playful squeeze of the buttocks, “sating your appetites, you can enjoy being buffeted by this inclement weather because it is novel. Pain becomes pleasure, as with masochism.”
> Face burning with embarrassment, you stutter out “I’ve never been stabbed before. Do you think I’d enjoy that, too?”
>Stuck as you are in Gin’s rugged embrace, you can feel every miniscule motion as he slowly breaks into a smile. He answers “It depends on the kind of sword. Somebody we know is quite enthusiastic about being ‘stabbed’, as it were.”
>At this, you bury your face in his neck-ruff and nibble it lightly, hoping to get him off-guard the same way you did with Inari. Instead, it only seems to make him reassert himself, and he cranes his neck to return the favor- as his teeth make contact with your skin, you cannot help but shiver with mounting arousal.
>The notion that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew in flirting so aggressively with Gin enters your mind, only to be obliterated by a sudden display of masterful tongue-work along your collarbone. The old fox repositions his mouth time and again, never biting hard enough to draw blood, but working his way around your neck until the sparks of pleasure catch and your throat is aflame with desire. You loll your head to one side to provide him easier access.
>Right at the moment of surrender, he backs off. “Inari really is rubbing off on you. Or do you usually ask for sex on the first date?”
>“Don’t tease me so much”, you implore.  “This is my first date ever. I don’t know what to do. I never have.”
 
>At this, you can feel Gin’s fur bristling, though what emotion is driving it you can’t say. Inquisitively, he continues as he loosens his grip on you, letting you part from him just enough to look into your eyes.
>“There was never anyone who caught your fancy before you got wrapped up in all this?”
>“Maybe- but I never had a chance to act on it. Inari was my first. And after a first time like that, what human could compete? By the time I had enough confidence to consider taking a lover of my own, I was used to orgasms intense enough to make you faint. No other human could handle me.”
> Gin’s quizzical stare becomes more calculating as he processes your words, and his smile turns glum as time passes. By the time his expression has fully taken shape, you’ve gotten cold enough to begin shivering; Gin notices your discomfort immediately and raises a paw to the howling storm- a small bubble of calm air surrounds you immediately afterward.
>“Why didn’t you just calm the storm like you did earlier?”
>“I didn’t calm the storm; I calmed you. The mortal world works by different rules. The wind here is under the jurisdiction of Lord Fujin. We wouldn’t want to risk offending him by interfering, or worse- attracting the attention of Lord Susano.”
> “More importantly, though… I’d say what we need is time away from the gods. Man to man. Man to demon. Time to be ourselves without worrying about who might be watching and listening. Time to drop the pretenses.”
> “You were listening in on Inari and I, weren’t you?”
> Without thinking, you snap back, annoyed at the bait-and-switch. “I was. What of it?”
> “It doesn’t bother you? My… unsavory diet? My face?”
> “I’d always heard stories about demons eating people. I’m not surprised; I had long-since accepted it as a possibility. But you’ve never eaten anyone for as long as I’ve known you, so that counts for something.”
>A lump forms in your throat as you make the next push. Hard though it may be for you to say, Gin’s comfort comes first. “You don’t have to show me your face if you don’t want to either. I’m curious- I won’t deny that. More than anything else, though? I want you to be happy moving at your own pace.”
> “I wouldn’t be so quick to look a gift horse in the mouth, Anon.” he says, gently rebuking you. “A word of advice from someone with a few centuries worth of repressed romantic urges- healthy relationships are all about reciprocity. You never got to learn that because Inari snatched you up before you could.”
> “Likewise” he says “it’s important to understand how your partner thinks- not only of you, but of himself. I wouldn’t have brought you this far only to turn away at the last second. I want you to know what I really look like. I *need* to know that you can love me not merely as you see me now, but as I truly am. Are you ready?”
>It looks like Gin won’t budge on this- although you only meant it as a gesture of kindness, he clearly views his true appearance as a genuine problem that you need to face together. Despite his usually stoic appearance, it occurs to you that you’ve never seen him quite this serious, so you brace yourself and nod.
 
>Gin’s body lets out a sickening crunch as he starts to retake his quadrupedal form- there’s nothing sensuous or enjoyable about watching him change this time, and the visceral sound of crackling bones, popping joints, and liquefying muscle fills the air. Experimentally, you reach out and lay a hand on Gin’s back as he buckles to all fours, feeling his body creak in protest from the strain of transformation. As he continues to grow, your hand is forced back by his ever-increasing mass- he’s already about half the size he took when he needed to carry you to the palace, and he doesn’t look to be stopping.
>At the same time, you notice that the red marks of divinity are starting to fade, and the surrounding fur starts to take on a darker hue as scars from countless battles past come to the fore. Your fingers run over a few puncture-marks from a bow and arrow near his shoulder, and more irregular patches of skin lower down near the ribs.
>“Rocks.” Gin says, before you can think to ask. “I was stoned a few times.” His voice is low and guttural, but you can detect no anger in his demeanor. How could he be so nonchalant at people who hurt him so badly?
>While you’re trying to think, Gin’s lets out a whine as his expanding hindquarters back into a prickle-bush. With a stretch of his hindpaws he uproots the offending plant, making more space for himself and giving you an excellent view of his pert buttocks. You almost think to reach out and squeeze them, but steady your hands so as not to tempt Gin to kick you in kind.
>After another few moments, Gin’s growth begins to taper off around the time he gets to the size of a large horse, but to your surprise, he does not yet seem satisfied.  You withdraw completely as his fur continues to darken, taking on a strangely indistinct quality -even when looking straight at him, you can’t quite tell where the lightless night begins and your lover’s body ends.
>Then, his markings fade back in, ruddy vermilion, looking for all the world more like fresh wounds than conduits for divine energy. They do not shine as you’ve come to expect, but rather pulse and throb irregularly with the beating of his heart. Finally, he turns to you and gives an oddly unsettling smile.
>Instinctively, you take a step back as you catch sight of his glowing eyes and pearly teeth; it’s as if you’re seeing him again for the first time, and the years of your togetherness melt away like his outline in the dark, leaving only a heretofore unknown discomfiture.
>Unknown- that’s the perfect word for it. You can feel it in the way the hair on the back of your neck has started to stand on end, in the backwards step you took, and in the way you have to fight to maintain eye contact. No matter how your conscious mind knows it’s Gin, your body screams at you to make a run for it before this destroyer of divinities decides to turn his teeth on you.
>Gin advances by one step, and you find yourself taking another step backwards. You steel yourself, trying to resist your body’s impulses, pressing your back into the trunk of a nearby tree to let him close the distance. He is upon you in an instant.
 
>“It feels like I’ve been waiting for you to look at me like that for years.” He trills, tails wagging back and forth like a fuzzy fan, stirring a giddy breeze inside your little bubble of calm air. “What elation, now that the moment is finally here.”
>You return his manic energy with a more muted stare, or at least the beginnings of one. You still have to struggle to meet his eyes, their innate predatory glare too intense to endure. Gin, for his part, is absolutely ecstatic with relief.
> “I’m sorry.” He says, “I know I’m getting carried away, but it feels so good to have my body be my own again. I do get so sick of keeping up appearances, though I must say- that look on your face is everything I’d hoped it’d be. You understand now; I can taste it on you. The fear, I mean.”
>“Did you want me to be afraid of you?” you stutter, trying to muster some bravado to hide behind. “I’m not some dish to be seasoned.”
>“No.” he whispers. “I only want us to be on even terms.” Bashfully, he adds, “I want a relationship without trickery. I won’t push you into it, or do anything without giving a full explanation.”
>“So you tricked me all this time, is that it?” you snarl, trying not to let your fear overpower you. “All the time we’ve spent together was a lie because I didn’t know you had black fur?”
>“Anon, look at me. Think hard- what do you know about foxes? About how we look?”
>“You’re shapeshifters.” You flippantly answer. “You can look however you want.”
>“But what determines our natural color? For example, why are the other foxes in the palace gold?”
>“I… don’t know.”
>“It’s the same reason you’re having such a difficult time looking at me right now. Our fur is colored by our soul.”
>“They are gold because they are pure. They have lived rightly, and sworn themselves to do good deeds in Inari’s name.”
>“So, you’re black because…”
>“I’m cursed. A black-furred kitsune is an extremely ill omen. Ill enough that most people would try to kill one on sight- even a child.”
>“I may have been born this way” he continues, “but I earned this color. I’ve done terrible things to keep myself alive. I had nothing else to live for except the hope of revenge, and for the sake of that revenge, I left a mountain of corpses in my wake.”
> “Inari told me.”
> “Did he tell you I used to devour whole villages while I was building my strength?”
> “…”
> You grimace in revulsion as Gin recounts more and more grisly details of his innumerable sins; the stories slowly grow more egregious until you finally hold up a hand, motioning for him to stop as you feel your stomach start to turn. It’s unimaginable to you that the man that stands before you now is the same one in those tales- one that would take the shape of a “lost” child and consume his thankful parents in the night, or eat an angry hunter alive, playfully calling out the names of the organs as he took them in his teeth.
> When Gin notices your disgusted glare and the halo of sparks forming around your head, he simply closes his eyes and waits. “I’m a monster, Anon. A devourer of men and gods alike.” he adds, matter-of-factly.  “I have borne the weight of this accursed existence for a millennium and more. I wouldn’t dare ask you to share that burden without knowing the truth.”
> “Do you think I deserve the pure silver coat of a pious disciple? Or the golden fur of one who has neared enlightenment?”
> Finally, irritation overtakes fear and you answer Gin’s question with one of your own. “What does that have to do with our relationship?”
 
>At this, Gin stops cold, giving you a twitchy look somewhere between exasperation and amusement. He’s clearly taken aback by your question, so you muster your willpower and take a step forward, watching in amazement as he backs off.
> “You’re cursed? And what about Inari and I? Do you think we feel cursed to share our lives with you? Are we burdened by your presence?”
> “No, I…”
> You cut him off, pushing on before he can manage to order his thoughts enough to come up with a convenient excuse or a sly misdirection. He might not be unstable, but the suffering he’s caused is evidently weighing on him more than the pain he’s had to endure.
>Resolved to move forward, the time has come to bare your own insecurities- not in an explosive shower of rain and lightning, but in an orderly way that allows you to give voice to your love for the man before you.
> “I’m a peasant. What right do I have to be at Inari’s side? Or yours, for that matter? I’m a dirt poor farmer whose only virtue is tasting good. Inari may as well have given me immortality because he wanted an endless supply of his favorite drink on-tap, for all the good I’ve been able to do.”
> “You don’t mean that.” Gin interjects, “Think of all the people you’ve helped since you became a god, and even before that- you were never truly malicious towards anyone even when they tried to kill you. Scared, surely. Paranoid, rightfully. But you didn’t kill anyone to save yourself. You didn’t give in to the fear.”
> “But I did!” you shout, cutting Gin off. “I gave in every time I looked them in the face and turned away. I did it every time they approached me and I ran, every time I heard them gossiping about my eccentricities, and every time I spoke to you and Inari over the people right in front of me. ”
> “Just because I didn’t physically lash out at them doesn’t mean I wasn’t malicious or angry or bitter. Do you think I’d have been able to resist the temptation to fight my way out if I hadn’t been starving to death along with them, surrounded by a range of impassable mountains!?”
>At this, Gin takes another step backwards, and you press your advance until he can back up no more. You bury your fingers into the thick scruff around his neck and pull, trying to overcome your inability to look at one another through sheer force of will. At Gin’s current size you can hardly budge him at all, so you settle for rolling your forehead against his whiskered cheek, trying to impart whatever affection you can with your limited reach.
> “Don’t place me on a pedestal- or drag yourself through the dirt, for that matter. We all have regrets, and we have to live with them. This is just a part of living with them.”
> You feel a shudder run through Gin’s body as he hears his own words turned back on him; he rears up on his back legs, pinning you to his chest with one of his tails as he reclines against the tree behind him. Finally, his voice sounds in your mind, bringing with it a queasy mixture of wonder and weariness as his great fuzzy chest heaves with his hammering heartbeat.
> “Like an iron club, right to the end.”
> Though he does not continue speaking, you sense that Gin has a newfound respect for you. His touch is less protective and more inquisitive, as though trying to find some physical basis for the emotional strength you just displayed. Content, you put up with his prodding until he calms down in kind, letting you drift off beneath his watchful eye.
 
>You wake up to your first real sunrise in years. Still, in the light of the morning sun, the greatest surprise is underneath you- Gin’s shadowy form has faded. His fur is still black, and his markings are still the wrong shade of red, but he’s the same fox he’s always been underneath it all.
>Inari really is rubbing off on you- you’d never once considered watching someone sleep for most of your mortal life, but now that the opportunity is right in front of you, you can hardly look away. Up close, you can tell just how handsome Gin’s features are- he still possesses the steadfast ruggedness of a mortal man rather than the unearthly perfection you’d expect of a god.
>Strange though it may be to say, Gin feels alive in a way that no others in Heaven do. He’s alive with history and potential for the future, alive with struggle and suffering in equal measure with joy and ease. He’s alive like the weathered old tree you’re sleeping against, and like the chirping birds that welcome the dawning day. Most of all, he’s alive like you are. He *breathes*.
>That same noble brow and angular jawline you’ve become accustomed to seeing are so different while he sleeps. He’s never looked so relaxed, so at peace with himself, as he does right now with you curled to his chest. In your mind’s eye, you see his tongue poke gently out of the tip of his muzzle- just a centimeter or two, but enough that you can see it. The collection of dewdrops on his whiskers only accentuate the faintest of smiles on his jowls. He looks so *cute* like this.
>A strange tension creeps into the air as the minutes go by; you’re afraid to move, afraid to breathe, unwilling to do anything that might rouse Gin from his slumber. You know this moment has to end, but you’re determined to resist that inevitability for as long as possible. Finally, a rooster crows somewhere in the distance, and you see Gin’s eyes snap open.
> “Morning, Anon.” he yawns.
> “Good morning.” You croak. “Pleasant dreams?”
> “Maybe so.” He replies. “Pleasant realities too.”
>You feel yourself starting to blush, so you hide your face in Gin’s chest, determined to make him do the same before he notices anything is amiss.
>“You were smiling in your sleep, you know. I’d love to see you do it more often.”
> “You can’t just make someone smile.”
> “I beg to differ. How’s this for a good morning?”
>No sooner do the words leave your lips than do you shimmy up and kiss Gin full on the mouth. His eyes widen, and then slowly close as he surrenders to the embrace, letting your hands explore his neck however they may. With the current size disparity you can’t really tease him as you might normally, but he’s clearly enjoying it, however sloppy your tongue-work or awkward your posture.
>Chuckling to himself, Gin returns your kisses with a playful nuzzle. As you look into his eyes, you detect a hint of longing in his gaze- his maw opens slowly, hesitant to voice his thoughts. You know what’s coming.
> “We should try to get back soon.”
> “Couldn’t we stay like this, just a little longer?” you ask.
> “I’d rather start fresh, if you don’t mind. I already ruined our first date- it only started going well after you shut me up, and then we both fell asleep.”
> “And look how we wound up- kissing and hugging while we watch the sunrise together. I couldn’t ask for a better way to wake up.”
> “Be that as it may,” he sighs, “we both have other duties to attend to.”
> “Maybe you do- I’ve got nothing to do but listen to prayers.” You huff.  “You’ve got the servants. Inari’s getting up to his old tricks at court. What else do I have?”
> “I know it can be tiresome to grant wishes for hours on end, but perhaps I might be able to give you some motivation? If you work hard during the day, come nighttime we can unwind however you like.”
> “But how will I know when it’s night? It’s always light out in Heaven.”
> “I’ll come get you. You just think about what it is you want to do when you’ve got me all to yourself.”
 
>The day passes uneventfully enough. You seclude yourself in meditation, trying to focus on your work. Although, you’re pleased to note that the menial drudgery does not weigh on your heart as usual; with the promise of the coming night, and your second date with Gin, you’re certain the reward will be well worth the frustration. Intermittently, you fantasize about what you’d like to do with him when there’s a lull, until you feel a faint tugging at your consciousness.
>Inari summons you to his chambers, pulling at you through your innate connection as gods. As you near the door, you spy Gin waiting for you, looking just as lost as you are. The look on Inari’s face is unusually sober as you both enter the room, and you look to Gin for reassurance as a strange chill begins creeping into the air.
> Gin in turn looks at Inari, motioning for the other fox to explain himself. Inari takes a seat, not on the nearby bed, but on the floor, maintaining a stiff formal posture as he motions to you both to sit opposite him. The wood feels cool as you take position, but it is easily outmatched by Inari’s frigid demeanor- whatever he wishes to share with you, it must be a grave matter indeed for him to act this way.
> “I want to talk about children.”
>Your heart leaps up into your throat at the mere suggestion, but a rising growl to your side cuts off your excitement. Before you can even think of a response, Gin bolts, practically tackling Inari to the floor and grabbing him by the collar of his robe. Even in his silvery form, you can feel that same upwelling of fear you did yesterday- you understand that he faces Inari not as one god to another, but as one who has held his ‘master’ on a tight leash and humbled him in ages past.
>It seems that your little escapade with Gin last night has loosened his grip on his aloof persona, because his body language has changed so emotively. His tails lash the ground fitfully as he stares Inari down, fur fluffing up in anger- you can’t be sure exactly what is to follow, but you know yourself powerless to stop the coming onrush of raw emotion.
> “Why now?” Gin asks through gritted teeth. “We had time. We had all the time in the world.”
> “And what better time than now?” Inari states, unfazed by Gin’s sudden outburst. “We are strong. Our enemies are few and scattered. What have we to lose?”
> “Our lives, if it goes poorly- but you knew that already. If you want to explain it to Anon, you ought to say it plainly instead of making such locutions. You already know my feelings on the matter. ”
> “Then let go of me and we can start talking about it like rational adults. You can’t just throw your weight around and expect people to listen.”
> “Look who’s talking! I’m not the one hell-bent on upsetting any semblance of stability our lives had for the sake of my own gratification!”
> “Oh, please.” Inari continues blithely, “I know children aren’t a mere means to an end.”
>“Making new gods is always a risky endeavor- a risk I nonetheless took when elevating you both. The fact that I’m including you in the decision at all should speak volumes about how I intend to approach this.”
> “Listen to yourself- you’re not doing us any great favors!” Gin roars, finally losing his composure “Or do you genuinely think your husbands *shouldn’t* be involved in your decision to have children?!”
> “Likewise, your intentions *don’t* matter in this situation.” he adds, no less forcefully. “What happens, happens, and it’s completely beyond *anyone’s* ability to control. You’re the one who wants to roll the dice and take a gamble. Don’t expect us to go all-in when you could lose *everything*.”
> Inari and Gin continue to bicker until it looks like the fur is really going to start flying- you have no idea why the situation has deteriorated to this point, but you’re still certain it needs to stop. Unable to sit by and watch any longer, you grab Gin’s torso and heave him backwards with all your might, trying to forcibly separate the two foxes before they come to blows.
>While you cannot move them physically, the touch of your hands draws Gin back from his near-insensate furor. He finally unhands Inari and sinks backwards into your arms, snaking his tails around you protectively. Even so, you can feel that he’s still upset as he presses back into you- his body is flush with heat, his breathing is ragged, and what you can see of his face looks twisted halfway between anger and grief.
>You hear Inari get up and dust himself off, coolly walking over to the spot where the two of you sit, entwined. As Inari leans in, Gin flinches, but Inari answers his anxiety with a simple kiss. As their foreheads touch, you feel Gin start to shudder violently as he begins to break down- he nearly wrenches himself out of your hug with the force of his silent sobbing as he pulls Inari down into a kneel.
> You’ve never particularly been able to get inside Inari’s head the way that he and Gin seem to do so effortlessly to you, but you’ve at least been able to keep up in some measure. Not so here- determined to wring some semblance of sense from the strange situation, you gently prod Inari’s mind with your own after taking a little time to straighten out your thoughts.
> “Why would you want a child badly enough to risk dying?” you ask.
> “Not merely dying.” Inari responds. “Dying spectacularly.”
 
>“Ever since sex and pregnancy came into being, all the gods with the appropriate organs to do so are expected to take part, regardless of sex; Lord Izanagi himself gave birth to Lady Amaterasu and her brothers after a last trip to the underworld to see his wife. Mind you, he’d never have done so willingly if she wasn’t dead, but that’s beside the point. It’s one of the few inarguable symbols of power and status among gods- after what happened to Lady Izanami, none would dare make the attempt lightly.”
> “When gods reproduce, not even we know what’s going to come out - the smallest change in circumstance can perpetually alter the fate of all existence in ways that are impossible to predict, even with our usual precognition.”
> “For example, Izanagi and Izanami’s first child together was a giant boneless leech because she spoke out of turn on the night he was conceived. She-who-invites regularly pushed entire landmasses out of her body, and that was considered normal. And even as she died giving birth to the god of fire, her agonized tears and voided bowels brought forth yet more gods.”
> “And that’s worth it, to you?” you ask, more than a little disturbed. “The prospect of being burned to death from the inside out?”
> Inari takes a slightly annoyed tone before continuing, paying no mind to your rhetorical question. “Though it’s no real comfort to his parents, Kagutsuchi’s blessing warms men’s hearths and lights their way through the dark even now. Think of all the good that has resulted from the creation of fire, and then ask yourself if Izanami’s sacrifice was worth it.”
> “…”
> “And what if you give birth to a monster like that leech?
> “Who can say? Our child’s life will be their own. So long as we raise them well, we will have to be satisfied that they’ll do the right thing. And for that matter, I’d say we could do worse than a giant leech.”
> “How?”
> “Does the name “Ebisu” mean anything to you?”
> “It grew up into one of the seven gods of luck?!”
> “The very same. Unpredictable as a divine pregnancy is, a god’s maturation process is even stranger. Still, it gives one hope that anyone can rise above the circumstances of their birth- his parents certainly had nothing to do with it.”
 
>You can perceive a strange sort of resoluteness rebounding over your link with Inari as you interrogate him- you have a feeling that whatever you say, you won’t change his mind about this. However, the mental link expands as Gin starts to recover his composure, the second fox practically radiating with concern for his first love, and a growing sense of curiosity as he waits for you to ‘voice’ your own thoughts.
> “We all need to be willing to make concessions here.” you begin. “Do we understand one another, at the very least?”
> “Yes. I understand Gin is afraid of losing me. I understand he sees this as just another scheme, trying to gain power at any cost. I want him to understand that it isn’t. Once we have children of our own, our position will be cemented- it’s one of the few things I can do to ensure our future together.”
> “What about you?” you ask. “Why do you think Inari wants this so badly?”
> “I understand why he’d be tempted” Gin responds, nodding furtively as he lets Inari go. “We could drop the illusion. We wouldn’t have to hide ever again. We could be happy together, without anyone or anything threatening to take it away. But…”
>“However courageous it may seem to offer his life in service of such a cause, I will not allow my happiness to be the altar on which my love would martyr himself. I am happy enough as is. With both of you.”
> “What do *you* want, Anon?” Inari asks, raising a paw thoughtfully to his chin as he kneels, looking past Gin’s shoulder to your face. “I’m for it. Gin is against it. You know both of our stakes in this. It’s your job as the third to break the tie.”
>A part of you was afraid of being put on the spot like this ever since your relationship with the two foxes was in its infancy. Being caught between them is an uncomfortable experience to say the least- this may be the first time you’ve seen them disagree so openly with one another, and there doesn’t seem to be any room for compromise. Nevertheless, you cannot bring yourself to do anything other than speak frankly. Anything else would be a disservice to the men you love.
>Biting your lower lip in hesitation, you begin on a somber note. “I can’t make everyone happy. But speaking only for myself…”
> “I want kids- I won’t deny it.”
> “Then let that suffice.” Inari cackles. “I’ll give you more than you have wit to ask.”
> “But!” you interrupt, giving him an annoyed glare. “I’m not speaking only for myself. Not when my choices affect all of us. That being said, none of us really has the right to speak for anyone else.”
>The two foxes regard you intently, or as intently as they can without moving. Inari looks bemusedly at you while Gin lies motionless in your embrace, ears twitching expectantly as he waits for you to fully articulate your thoughts.
> “Gin has the right to his disapproval, and he can refuse to have children, the same way Inari and I have the right to have children if we should really want them. Whatever the risks involved, our choices are our own.”
> “It’s not that I don’t want children.” Gin protests. “It’s more a matter of raising them; in the event the one getting pregnant dies, someone needs to be around to take charge. That’s why…”
>Then, like a flash of lightning from a clear-blue sky, Gin whispers something that catches you completely off-guard.  “If you’re going to get Inari pregnant, you’ll have to get me pregnant too.”
 
>At this, Inari leans forward, face hovering less than a hand’s breadth from the both of yours. His eyes carry a veiled disapproval hidden behind the eagerness he displayed earlier. As he collapses atop you, you have to struggle to keep yourself seated upright- it appears that Gin finally found a way to get through the nigh-impenetrable veneer of control that surrounds Inari at all times.
>“I want to do this for *you*. What good does it do anyone if you refuse to harvest the fruits of my labor?”
> “I might not be able to stop you… but you should know by now I won’t sit idly on the sidelines while you’re in danger. You’ll just have to accept that it could all blow up in your face twice over- if putting my life on the line is enough to make you feel the weight of such a decision, then so be it.”
> You’re just as shocked as Inari is, given the fears that Gin’s been espousing up to now, but a part of you feels that there’s more to this than mere spite. The atmosphere is not unlike a gambling den: a high stakes match is taking place before your eyes, and you’re almost certain you’re witnessing a bluff.
> “Even after all these years, you’re still full of surprises.” Inari says “When did you learn how to be so petty? I might even be impressed if I weren’t so annoyed.”
> You can feel Gin’s jowls parting as he makes as much of a shit-eating grin as his vulpine anatomy will allow. “I had a very good teacher.” It’s a good thing nobody else is here to see this- the look on his face alone could start a brawl.
> “Hold on. Please. Before the bickering starts up again.” You caution, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “Even without knowing how many things can go wrong in a divine pregnancy, I won’t sire any children out of spite.”
> One of Gin’s tails loops itself around your waist, squeezing you tight as Inari backs off, aghast at your suggestion. “Anon, I’m not some monster. Any children you father with Gin will be loved as though they were my own. I just don’t want him to put himself in harm’s way.”
> “So, you understand how I feel when you do the same?” Gin snaps back.
> “…”
 
>From your position between the two foxes, you pipe up, trying to push the situation to its inevitable conclusion. Even though your meeting with Inari has been relatively brief, the flaring of tempers has worn away at your nerves; you want nothing more than to be dismissed so that your second date can begin.
>“Have we come to a decision?” you ask.
> Inari looks distinctly uncomfortable in a way you haven’t seen him act before. His eyes flick back and forth between you and Gin as though trying to puzzle out some invisible connection before closing in thought. After a moment he says.  “Fine…who goes first?”
> The words give you the cold sweats, however warm Gin’s back-fur feels against you. In turn, you feel Gin’s tail tighten ever-more anxiously around your waist- it looks like his bluff has been called, and he has no choice but to accept defeat or go double-or-nothing.
> “I’ll go first.” Gin growls, “but don’t rush us. It’ll happen when it happens.”
> “I’m not going to wait all century for you to decide you like Anon enough to have his children. Let me go first and you can have your courtship with him however you please.”
> “We deserve to have a chance at a normal relationship before children enter the picture. A few years’ wait is hardly any time at all.”
> “This *is* normal for us.” Inari pouts before reluctantly acceding to Gin’s demand. “But I see your point- the best sex always starts with foreplay. So it is with romance too, I suppose.”
> “Not that you’d know much about that.” you chide. “Did you forget that the dick you covet so much is attached to a person? A person who would very much like to remind you that he can’t derive emotional fulfillment from fucking until he passes out?”
>Both foxes to raise a paw mouth-ward in astonishment as your verbal rebuke fills the sudden silence. You swear you can hear the beginnings of a snicker in Gin’s throat as Inari looks down his muzzle at you and sneers.
> “Maybe it’s time I stop holding back, then.” he blusters before waving his paw dismissively. “If your mind could tolerate an orgasm of my usual caliber, it would be no contest.” However, as he stands up and turns away you notice he seems to droop a little; he doesn’t walk so much as he slinks over to the door and quietly closes it behind him.
>However much truth there might be to Inari’s assertion that he’s been holding back, the way he said it doesn’t sit right with you- he seemed genuinely hurt at your suggestion that he doesn’t value you as a person so much as a sex object. You’ll definitely have to apologize later.
 
>Once he’s satisfied Inari is out of sight, Gin releases his tail from around your waist and turns around to face you before leaning back in a little more languidly. As his cheek meets yours, you feel a bubbling sense of camaraderie; his wordless gesture of gratitude practically speaks for itself. However, when he finally finds his voice, his tone is terse with weariness.
> “I overplayed my hand.”
> “You did.”
> “You’d really want kids that bad?”
> “Maybe it’s just perspective, since I’m still so young. I think like a mortal. I want to pass something on, even if I know I’ll never need to. It’s the same as wanting to breathe or sleep or eat; even though we can survive without it, it feels wrong somehow not to.”
> “And… you don’t mind waiting for me?”
> “You’ve waited long enough for other peoples’ sake. I’ll wait for you. As long as it takes.”
> “Then I am twice in your debt.”
> “Love isn’t a matter of owing favors and collecting debts.” You say firmly. “I want you to believe that.”
> “Then do me one more favor- don’t let this old fox get too greedy. I’ll eat down to the marrow in your bones if you let me.”
 
> Gin leans forward to kiss you a little harder, effortlessly pushing you into the tatami mat which functions as the room’s floor. As the fox falls upon you, you feel your manhood begin to stir in your fundoshi, eager to continue where you left off a few nights ago. Once Gin notices your arousal, his motions grow more impatient, and you can feel his own erection emerging from its sheath as he grinds his hips against yours.
> Even fully-clothed, the feeling is intense; Gin’s musculature lends an oddly springy quality to his flesh as he rubs at you, creating a sensation somewhere between sex and a full-body massage. Just as it was in the forest, his body seems to blend in to yours- it’s hard to tell which of the turgid lengths throbbing between your bellies is yours, but for the moment it doesn’t matter.
>Instinctively, you buck your hips, reaching inwardly to the well of your divine power. Shapeshifting your genitals mid-coitus has almost become second-nature to you over the years of trying to satisfy Inari, but Gin goes still the moment he feels your dick begin to grow.
> You stop in kind, fighting your urge to simply let the pleasure of the change take over. It strikes you as Gin’s eyes meet yours just how right he was about Inari monopolizing your sexual activities; it feels undeniably odd to lay with someone who has no particular attachment to the accoutrements to which you’ve become accustomed.
> The meaning is clear enough. Gin doesn’t need extreme endowments or explosive climaxes; he doesn’t need to have his insides rearranged just to be able to feel anything at all the way that Inari does. What he needs, what he *really* needs, is you, bare and without pretense.
>He wants you as you think of yourself; the awkward, lonely, no-name peasant farmer that he’s in love with, and vice versa.  And because of that, you feel closer to him in this one momentous act of lovemaking than in decades of the raw, brutal fucking that Inari has masterminded. You can practically feel the scars in your hearts touch and melt away in your increasingly carnal union.
> You nod in understanding before tapping Gin on the shoulder. Though a part of you doesn’t want to admit it, you’ve also gotten accustomed to sleeping in a bed rather than atop a simple futon- the prolonged period laying down on the hard surface is uncomfortable enough to be distracting, a discomfort compounded by the weight of the burly fox pressing himself into you.
> Gin leans back, sitting on his haunches and letting his loosened robe hang about his body as it will. You see a few errant splashes of light flare up as you look him over, and he draws a hand against the rim of the fabric provocatively as though unsure just how much more you’d like him to reveal. Between his thighs, you spy a little sliver of his over-full balls spilling out from the gap in his fundoshi, the outline of his scarlet manhood visible through the plain white silk of his clothing.
>A little part of you feels insecure that Gin is so much bigger than you downstairs even in his base form, but a strange sort of confidence comes over you as you start to think about it. So what? If Gin’s trying to teach you that raw size alone doesn’t matter, then what better way is there to show him you understand than to try to dominate him?
 
>You warp to the bed, taking Gin with you. He breathes out sharply as your bodies settle into their new positions, but he seems more bothered by the frivolous expense of divine energy than the nausea your actions have caused. He lies in repose on the bed, content to wait for your next move while he gathers his wits.
>Leaning back for a moment, your hand traces its way down his front, lingering briefly at the simple knot that keeps his robe in place. It comes undone in your hand easily enough, and you begin to get physically acquainted with your partner’s equipment for what feels like the first time.
>Gingerly, you untie the knot of Gin’s fundoshi, watching in amazement as his attributes free themselves from the confining fabric. Pulling the simple cloth underwear away, you hear Gin give several satisfied sighs as you start to explore.
>The cock that stands before you is impressive, to say the least. The angry red rod looks like it would be more at home in a vegetable patch than between someone’s thighs, easily dwarfing your own unmodified genitals. The pointed corona looks built for spearing into tight places, topping a thick shaft and bulbous base crisscrossed with vasculature. Resting below, his orange-sized balls sag weightily down, disguising the sensuous curvature of his buttocks behind their mass.
> Mumbling a quick thanks for the ‘food’ you’re about to receive, Gin regards you with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. By the time you reach out to touch it, the constant flow of vulpine pre-seed has slicked the surface considerably. Just like you would when jerking off, you start to knead his balls, watching eagerly as the frisky fox brings a fuzzy digit towards his maw and bites down on it to stifle a whine.
>He must be feeling very sensitive, because in no time at all, Gin’s belly-fur is absolutely drenched with his own fluids; you give his cock a sympathetic stroke as it fires off yet another gout of pre against his thickly-muscled middle. As you give his cock a few more strokes, Gin can hardly resist humping away at your hand, his thighs quaking from the effort of resisting his instinctual urges.
>You move back and forth from belly to balls to cock and back again, groping, squeezing, and stroking wherever your inquisitive hands take you. But every time you feel Gin’s balls draw away from your hand as if to climax, you ease off just enough to keep him riding the edge. Occasionally, ragged moans and muffled expletives escape his muzzle, and he looks up at you pleadingly, practically begging for release.
>Finally, when you feel he can take no more, you bring the tip of his canid cock to your lips and suck; Gin answers you with a deafening howl and a deluge of semen. As the first thick ropes of cum enter your mouth, they rapidly overflow the small space and you jerk back in surprise at the choking volume. The taste is unusual- savory, salty, and with a mild dusky undertone that you can’t quite place. It’s not bad, but you definitely can’t tell why Inari eats the stuff so religiously, especially not as the second rope flies out and hits you in the face.
>Your eyes snap shut as you sputter and cough, letting the hot liquid ooze over you in spurts. By the time Gin’s orgasm has died down you feel absolutely waterlogged, your entire face and chest basted in semen. Your every sense is overwhelmed by Gin’s liquid virility: the taste in your mouth, the heady scent of sex in your nose, the heat of the cloying goo on your skin- everything reminds you of what you’ve just done, and with whom.
 
>Gin shifts position beneath you, his retreating erection slapping your belly on its way back into its sheath. As he moves, his balls brush over your own turgid length, still desperately twitching against the fabric of your underwear in a vain attempt to free itself. Once he has righted himself, he speaks, voice low and husky with satisfaction.
> “You look good like that. Now, hold still.”
> You’re just about to mumble a witty retort when you feel a clawed finger tap at your trapped member meaningfully; Gin makes short work of your underwear before leaning forward and retaking his old frotting position. After such an orgasm you have no doubt that Gin won’t be getting hard again anytime soon; whatever he does now is purely for your benefit.
> Including licking you, apparently.
>You grunt a bit at the outset, but as Gin’s flat vulpine tongue trails its way over your face you can’t help but smile. However much you might want to be frustrated with him, you’re too ticklish to keep a straight face; by the time you’re clean enough to attempt reopening your eyes, the dull ache in your balls is the only reminder of your delayed climax.
>You feel Gin swivel atop you before batting your face with one of his tails, letting you use it like a towel to wipe off the remaining drool while he shimmies lower to attend to your swollen shaft. His paw-pads are immeasurably coarse compared to the fuzzy softness on your face, but in your desperation for release, the contrasting textures only heighten the coming sensation.
>For all the trepidation he showed when taking you in his mouth, Gin demonstrates true mastery with his hands- he finds your sensitive spots in just a few quick strokes, and then barrages them relentlessly. Jolts of pleasure run up and down your spine as Gin sets to work, but you can tell by the throbbing need in your loins that whatever heights of pleasure you might’ve been able to ascend in a longer session will be cut short by your own sensitivity.
> You battle the temptation to draw on your divine powers to hold off your own orgasm for longer than you’d like to admit, but decide against it in the end. Gin’s goal was to show you that it’s possible to have good sex without the use of magic, and by the gods, you’re not going to ruin it.
> A single particularly rough stroke is all it takes to send you careening over the edge. Your cock lurches and spurts in Gin’s grasp, though he continues pumping it dutifully until you feel completely spent. A faint slurping sound fills your ears as Gin guzzles your fluids before dismounting and leaning into your side to cuddle. However, as you lay there in the afterglow, a thought strikes you. You’re conscious.
 
>You didn’t pass out. There was no soul-searing, mind-shattering explosion of ecstasy that ripped you from the waking world. Once the post-orgasmic haze clears from your mind, you could even go another round or two if Gin was willing- not because you feel compelled to by the limitlessness of your insatiable divine biology, but because you want to embrace him for as long as he’ll allow. You’re satisfied. Happy, even.
>This must be the core of what Gin wanted you to learn, more than any mere sexual trickery. The more power you use, the more it requires of you in return; the more you change with it, the more you are changed by it. A shudder runs through you as you try to parse the implications of this new knowledge on Inari’s behavior up to now- perhaps one of the reasons he makes a show of being so inscrutable and alien is because he doesn’t want to admit how simple his motivations could become if he were to give in to this very same temptation.
>That great labyrinthine mind of his is already a fearsome thing in its own right; if he were to devote it solely to pleasure, you have no doubt that reality itself would kneel, open-mouthed and ready to service his every whim. It’s a burden you’ve sworn to share with him, but one you have sorely neglected without realizing it. Godhood isn’t merely humanity with a little bit extra- it’s a manifestation of a universal principle that dominates every aspect of your existence.
>And though it goes against his very nature as a god of desire, Inari *tries* to understand. He *wants* to be romantic with you and Gin. He *wishes* that he could be satisfied by a kind word, a simple show of affection, or an ordinary type of pleasure, but he *can’t*. He’s too far gone, irrevocably tainted by his own powers.
> Perhaps even Lord Susano is a victim of his innately tempestuous nature as a god of storms. Maybe he too was once a kind elder brother to Inari’s wife, before the mindless furor took him over. Maybe this was what Inari really meant by “holding back”! Maybe-
>A sudden cough from Gin draws you back. Your eyes pop open, and a faint look of worry makes you reach out and press your face into his. He hums thoughtfully, stroking your cheek in reassurance as he kisses you, the aftertaste of your cum still on his lips.
> You’re not sure just how much he intended you to take away, but you’re thankful to have spent this time with him. You doubt you’d have realized just what you were missing without his timely intervention, much less found another outlet for it. And now that the floodgates have opened, you have no doubt that you and he will be affirming your love for one another countless times in the eternity to come.
 
>The months fly by before you notice. Spring gives way to summer’s blazing heat, autumn’s crisp wind and finally to winter’s omnipresent chill. The inconstancy of the seasons is a welcome feeling, now that you leave the palace enough to notice them. It’s not that you couldn’t have done so before, but you had no reason to- you felt that your place was in Heaven, taking care of whatever responsibilities that were thrown your way.
> Now, your place is with Gin and Inari. Where they go, you follow closely behind, though a few things trouble you still. Even though you’ve made a conscious effort to try to spend more time with them both since their return,  Inari’s chief interest seems to be pushing you further into Gin’s arms. His smile has taken on a slightly strained quality when you ask about spending more time together and furthermore, he hasn’t once asked for sex. Simply put, it’s unlike him.
>However, he has been quite eager to discuss your dates with Gin; it’s evident he gets some sort of vicarious thrill out of the residual happiness you two are able to share thanks to him taking on the brunt of the work. You talk about your various escapades whenever you get the chance, hoping to bring what little joy you can to him in a stressful time.
>It strikes you, as you recount the details, just how touch-starved Gin must have been, if his current behavior is any indication; on one of your more recent dates, he insisted that all he wanted was to take a leisurely walk around the palace grounds while holding your hand. It seemed to you too innocent, too pure for the stage of the relationship you were in, but with each courtier you passed, his grin grew wider and wider until you found that you were smiling too.
> You realized only later just how much it meant for him to so publically embrace you like that. It was his way of showing you off, and of making sure that everyone knew how taken he was with you. If he were to be any more direct, he might’ve wound up climbing up to the roof and howling your name- a few foxes even came up to you later that night to offer their congratulations on bringing him so far out of his shell.
> You figure he has a few centuries of repressed emotions to work through, so it can’t be helped if he’s a little clingy. As someone who spent most of their life in physical isolation, you suppose you’re right in the same boat- you get the sense that you and Gin are kindred spirits of a certain kind, and that the speed at which your relationship is developing is due more to that than anything else.
 
> But since the deep winter set in, Gin has been strangely fidgety. The other foxes, too, seem to be making themselves scarce, as if in preparation for something. Sure enough, you find out- it’s mating season. Foxes mate in winter so that their pups will be born in spring, when food is most plentiful.
>Gin mentions it casually as he can on one of your date-nights, but his body language betrays his expectations- you have little doubt that he intends for you to bed him before the day is done, perhaps more than once, so long as the season lasts. The more important question is: will he allow you to breed him?
>The fox himself is strangely reserved on the whole issue when you ask. He doesn’t fly into a rage as he did with Inari, but neither does he seem quite enthusiastic. Instead, his eyes wander all over your body, indecisive, as though seeking an answer in the curvature of your spine, or some portent of the future in your own slight paunch.
>It seems like he’s genuinely considering it, rather than just giving a hard no; whether by some compulsion of his vulpine biology or as a result of the time you’ve spent with him, he’s thinking about it, and that’s a more positive response than you’ve ever seen from him. Finally, he meets your gaze before sighing and drawing you into his arms.
> “With a few provisions.”
> You’re shocked, even by a conditional “yes”. Trying not to betray your excitement, you respond. “Name them, and they will be done if it is within my power. I swea-”
> Gin’s paw flies to your mouth, forcibly closing it before you can complete the words. He shakes his head, his fur bristling slightly in anxiety before continuing. “You should not be so eager to swear a binding oath. What I ask of you is far simpler than that.”
> “What is it?”
> “I want to conceive in my demon form.”
> “Likewise, no magic should be involved. If I should grow heavy with child by your own efforts, then I will accept it as a natural consequence of our love. That is all I ask.”
> Without hesitation, you agree. However large he gets, or how dark his fur, he is still one of the men you love. Even if you must close your eyes, or hold your breath, or do it with your hands tied behind your back, you would surmount whatever obstacle if it meant he would be happy.
> “Then, let us take to bed, and I will give you something as the would-be father of my children. Something even Inari has never had of me.” He says before simply vanishing into thin air.
 
>Your walk to the bedroom rapidly becomes a run, which shortly devolves into a full-tilt sprint. You pass a few familiar foxy faces in your mad dash across the palace, blurred by the speed at which you move. Whatever their names, ranks, or concerns, they will have to be put off- Gin is willing, you’ve been waiting for this chance for the past several decades, and you won’t let it slip by.
>By the time you get to the bedroom, Gin is already in his demonic form. He looks a little comical lying on his back like a dog in the middle of rolling over, but the sight is still intensely seductive. Gin’s tails are splayed, fan-like against the mattress, each one drawing your eyes groin-ward; the 9-pointed half-star like a massive arrowhead directing your gaze straight to him. In Heaven’s light, you can almost make out individual tufts of fur settling against the fine silk sheets like coal powder, further accentuating the brightness of his wolfish smile.
>As quickly as you approached, you feel a sudden insistent urge to slow down just a touch. Your repeated sessions with Gin have taught you to appreciate these sorts of things- the ‘foreplay’, as Inari called it. Standing at the cusp of this moment, you flash back to the bath, determined not to make the same mistake twice- you’re going to make it enjoyable for the both of you.
>You slide your arm out of your robe, letting the air caress your chest for a moment. Your body, once hard and taut from an unforgiving life of hard labor on earth has softened somewhat in the relaxed atmosphere of Heaven. Sad as you may be to admit it, a part of you misses working the fields; the only real exercise you seem to get is fucking, and you’ve been doing precious little of that since Inari secluded himself to focus on his work.
>Gin, however, seems to be enjoying the show as you feel yourself over. Reaching up to rub a hardened nipple, you give one pectoral a squeeze, and then the other- they’re yours, sure enough, and you can’t help but flex a little as you get reacquainted with yourself. It’s been so long since you’ve even masturbated, you’d almost forgotten what you looked like naked.
>Shrugging off the top of your robe at the shoulder, you force on a confident smile as you walk towards Gin, laying in repose on the bed. He raises a paw to you, beckoning you closer, and you let your robe fall to the floor with a soft rush of air as you swish your way over to him.
>As you walk, your nudity makes you acutely aware of the subtle interactions of your body with the environment; the way your leg hair tickles in the breeze, the pressure on the balls of your feet as you approach, and the unmistakable bounce of your fundoshi-clad bulge as you climb into bed.
>You feel safe with him, however much your survival instincts may scream otherwise- however massive his body, however clever his mind, and however impure his soul, he is here as your submissive, and more than that, as a lover who craves the sense of fulfillment that only you can give. Sidling over between his bulky thighs, so generously spread and on display for you, another thought strikes you.
>You have no idea what you’re doing.
 
>Even as your erection strains against your fundoshi, urging you forward between Gin’s flanks, you realize that you’ve never done it like this before. Without the sexual magic to bolster you up, you feel nervous, virginally so, despite your long sexual history with Inari. This is… new, and if Gin is being truthful, it’s new to him too. You feel naked. Unprepared. Vulnerable.
> Now that you’re thinking of it, Inari’s always done all the work. Even when you were ravaging him so hard it felt like you were pounding his insides into paste, he was always ready, anytime and anywhere, for as long as you wanted and with no need to delay. You get the feeling that if you thrust into Gin with such reckless abandon, all you’ll do is hurt him.
>Sensing your apprehension, Gin rises slightly, reaching down to spread his anus. The bright-pink sphincter deforms slightly as he applies pressure to it, before he pushes a fraction of a finger inside. He withdraws his paw quickly, wincing as a sharp claw rubs the wrong way against the tender flesh, but you get the idea well enough that you feel comfortable replicating the motion.
>Freeing your dick from its confines, you let your pre-slicked length thrust idly against Gin’s hole for a little while, working him a little looser with each thrust. After a short time, his own erection has fully emerged, leaking pre-seed down his front, helping your efforts to lubricate his entrance. By the time you feel comfortable beginning the penetration in earnest, the surrounding fur is soaked with your mixed fluids; the audible squelch as you start to slide in is proof enough that he’s ready.
>Still, the going is slow; Gin is deceptively tight for someone his size, and you can tell from the muted growls emanating from his chest that he’s having a little trouble adjusting to the insertion. As you bottom out for the first time, you swear you see Gin’s fingers flex, claws digging ever so slightly into the meat of his thigh to brace himself against the pain.
>His entire body looks strained and taut, as though he expects some terrible disaster to come bursting in through the paper doors. Laying a hand upon his paw, your eyes begin their long journey face-wards; though it is but a scant few centimeters you must fight for, you feel the weight of Gin’s presence upon your spirit with every twitch of your neck.
 
>His eyes shine in anticipation, and a subtle nodding lets you know when to move on. Hand-in-hand, face-to-face, the sex begins proper.
>Gin’s insides are hot, almost unbearably so. You might have expected this considering that a mere hug was enough to keep you from freezing in a roaring gale, but his passage is like curling up beneath a kotatsu, or stepping back into the onsen. You feel like you’re melting, and you’ve only just begun to thrust.
>Starting with your hips, you ease forward, trapping his leaky member between your bellies and hoping the friction will help him get off while you try to build a rhythm. The pointed shaft feels like a red-hot iron poker against your stomach: hot, hard, and eager for release. Experimentally, your mouth finds its way to his nipple, and Gin gives an appreciative grunt as you take it between your teeth, bucking slightly as he does so.
>Excited to have found a means of advance, you nibble and suck the fleshy nub, and you feel Gin’s inner muscles flex, attempting to hold you in place while you continue your oral assault. Though the stimulus is rough, you can feel your partner start to get into it, one of his tails lashing against your back in silent exhortation to continue.
>Putting more of your weight into your thrusts, you grip Gin just beneath the ribs, using both your arms and legs to slam into him every so often. Your movements, though forceful, are lacking in urgency- you feel like you could stay like this all day, leisurely figuring out the sweet spots and secrets to your lover’s body as you saw back and forth.
>However, Gin has other ideas, writhing back against you and trying to work out how to please himself while on the receiving end for the first time. Occasionally when you thrust at certain angles, you feel his cock lurch and add another slimy drop of pre to the sexual morass on his midsection. You do your best to hit it as frequently as possible while your own rod continues leaking inside him, palpably pulsing through the walls of the fox’s core even at its natural size.
>Despite the best of intentions, you can only hold on for so long. Constrained as you are by the limits of physical biology, your orgasm is rapidly approaching. However much pleasure you might be getting, this still feels… wrong, somehow. Gin hasn’t cum, your whole body aches with the exertion of trying to get him there, and there doesn’t look to be any end in sight.
>After having to go without, you have a newfound appreciation for all the good times the three of you had gotten up to over the years in the bedroom. Sex is an art form that you have never truly had to master with Inari guiding your hips so frequently, and now that complacency has caught up with you.
>As is often the case when you’re involved with Gin, a part of you feels like you needed to do this- that it was yet another necessary lesson to further your growth as a person. Even so, it bothers you that it was a price that Gin thought needed to be paid now. You’re taking his virginity, for Gods’ sake; it should be a happy moment, an affirmation of your maturing love for one another, and not this awkward, messy affair.
>Sensing your dismay, Gin reaches forward and retakes your hand in his. Craning his neck down, he nuzzles you tenderly with one cheek, his breath tickling you as he lets your fingers disappear into his midnight-black fur.  Maybe… this is okay.
>A sudden seizing in your testicles as your orgasm hits jolts you from your thoughts and you hunch forward, instinctually pressing your cock as far as it’ll go into Gin’s gut. Just like in farming, you’ve plowed this fertile soil in preparation for your seed to take root and flourish. This is it!
>The moment is about as memorable as all the others, despite the circumstances that brought it about. There is no overflowing, destructive torrent of pleasure; your cumshot is hardly enough to fill a sake cup, rather than a barrel. Even so, you feel an odd sort of satisfaction as the afterglow arrives, and you reach down to give Gin’s swollen knot a squeeze so he can finish too.
>He shudders and bucks, humping your hand until his own climax gushes over him, the audible splattering of his sexual fluids against his midriff distracting you from your own reverie. As you withdraw, finally going soft, you slump against Gin’s stomach, planting a kiss on his cum-stained sternum as you drift off to sleep.
>A low, almost-purring chuckle fills the air as Gin’s tails close around you, wrapping you warmly for the night. The last thing you hear before the blackness hits is a whispered “I love you”.
 
>The next morning, things are mostly back to normal. Gin has retaken his silvery appearance, and has decided to busy himself with his usual duties. You’ve taken to wandering through the palace, looking for a quiet place to sit while you answer prayers, but a sudden hand on your shoulder stops you cold. It’s Inari, looking distinctly disheveled and very happy to see you.
> Your stomach lurches as space warps around you, and your eyes press shut until the room stops spinning. By the time you reopen them, Inari is in the middle of the bed, rolling around on the blankets and taking great heaving breaths.
> “I’m jealous. I can practically smell it, just lying here- the quiet traces of your raw desire. You must’ve had a magical evening.”
> “A magic-less evening, actually. Gin wanted to go about it as naturally as possible: no magic, no shapeshifting, nothing but the two of us as we’d have been if we were still mortals. Speaking of, I think I owe you an apology- more than one, actually. You make it all look so effortless when you bottom. Gin had a lot of trouble, and I think it hurt more than he was expecting.”
>At this, Inari stops rolling and gives you a smile. It’s a blissful, beautiful, radiant, irrepressibly predatory smile. When Gin looked at you like that, it was enough to make you flinch and step backwards; when Inari does it, it’s a call to action –a temptation like no other to run forward, pin him down, and ravish him. If all the foxes in the world could put on such a smile, you have no doubt that the whole race of men would be no more, and would walk gladly into the jaws of death with open arms and hard cocks.
> “I accept your apology- you’ve already more than made up for it. Gin is happier than I’ve seen him in decades, and now that you’ve had a chance to experience something ‘normal’, I expect you have a newfound appreciation for what I bring to the table.”
> You furrow your brow, the wind taken out of your sails somewhat by Inari’s instant understanding of a revelation that took you countless hours to come to. Unperturbed by your sudden lack of enthusiasm, Inari continues babbling.
> “It wasn’t easy to stay away from my two favorite people for so long, but it was worth it. I just wish I was here to see it”, he half-moans, rubbing the sheets suggestively. “Nothing would have made me happier than to be with you at the moment he surrendered and chose you to be the father of his children. Even just the aftershocks were enough to-”
> “Aftershocks?” you gasp, flushing with embarrassment.  “You felt that?”
> “You’d be surprised just how much you can feel when you’re focused enough. I hope it doesn’t ruin your sense of intimacy to know I was … amusing myself while you two were going at it.”
> That explains his appearance- you haven’t seen him looking quite this ragged since you first started dating, but the thought that your lover was masturbating to the thought of an intimate, emotional moment you were having with someone else doesn’t sit quite right with you.
> “Would you like me to show you what it was like?”
> “Anon, I haven’t been a virgin for a very long time.” he muses, jabbing at you playfully.  “Nor do I have any great attachment to the idea of pretending to be one so you can explore your new defloration fetish.”
> Brushing off his bawdy bluster, you clarify: “Do you want me to make you feel loved?”
> Inari locks eyes with you before sitting up and curling a finger towards you. “You already do that every day. But if you want to make love to me, that can be arranged. I could really show you how it’s done.”
> “Without holding back?”
> At this, Inari bites his lip, idly gnawing at the darker flesh of his jowls while his eyes roam across your body. Shortly after, he abandons the beckoning gesture, placing the formerly proffered paw against his temple and rubbing as if to ease an oncoming headache. Finally, he speaks, the beginnings of despondency writ into his features.
> “Are you sure? The whole purpose of letting Gin go first was so that we could mitigate some of the risk. Furthermore, do you still trust me enough to want this? Can you love me, knowing what I’ve done, and fearing that I think of you as mere food?”
 
> Inari raises a valid point, but your stomach twists as your own words turn against you- the sudden loss of confidence on his part is one thing, but to know it was rooted in your own insecure rambling is quite another. You’re glad that he’s starting to treat the matter of your relationship with some weight, but it seems as though his whole attitude towards the prospect of children has soured. Likewise, his body shows more wear-and-tear than it should from his more sedentary life these past few months- you’d swear you can see the outline of ribs through the folds of his robe. Maybe taking on so much work has been his way of trying to atone.
> You take a seat next to him on the bed, and he in turn rests his head on your shoulder for a moment. His whiskers tickle your neckline, but he does not move to embrace you any further, likely waiting for your response while he cocks an eye at you wearily.
> It seems you learn something new every day- Inari’s tendency to go to extremes doesn’t merely extend to his sexual preferences, but to everything he does. Though you didn’t mean to provoke that sort of response, his refusal to ask you for sex during your courtship with Gin has likely been a result of your rebukes during their big fight. Even if he might be able to shrug off a thousand insults from his supposed peers in the grand assembly of Gods, it looks like a harsh word from someone he truly cares for makes a devastating impact.
> You place a hand on his shoulder, and lean back, pulling him with you onto the bed. As he opens his mouth, you bring a finger to his lips, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
> “I know you don’t think of me like that. I’ve come to realize, over my time with Gin, just what you meant about the fish and the bait.”
> “There are as many ways of showing love as there are stars in the sky. For Gin and I, love is quiet and simple. It’s watching a sunrise together, or a walk around the palace holding hands, or fighting to look into one another’s eyes whenever we go to bed.”
> “For you, love is grand. You know no better way for it to be than huge and climactic and passionate. It’s the kind of love that makes you rewrite reality on your beloved’s behalf, or give them immortality because you couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing them again, or try to suck them off every day for years without fail.”
> “It’s also the kind of love that makes a shameless lecher give up on sex because someone he cares about said that he wanted more in life. The kind that makes him sacrifice, and work long nights, and push himself to his limits to give the people he loves a chance to feel normal again for a while.”
> “When I was little, I wondered at the stars a lot when I got lonely. In summer, I’d always look for Orihime and Hikoboshi on the night of the Tanabata festival. I was enamored with the idea of having a love so intense that you would forsake everything else- that Heaven itself would stop for you, even if it was only for one night. I wished for something like that more times than I could count, and now I have it because I’m with the two of you.”
> “I might not be able to make Heaven stop, but I can at least love you as you want to be loved- with all the intensity and insatiable greed. For as long as you want.”
> “And what if it ends in tragedy, as it did for them?” Inari half-whispers. “Would you herd cattle for 364 days so we could be together for one night out of the year, as Hikoboshi does?”
> “I’d do you one better- I’d smack the taste out of your father’s mouth and run away with you. I’d also throw a few cow pies at him and shout “Make your own robes, you lazy whoreson!”- Imagine keeping your only child from her husband so that you could force her to weave new outfits for you night after night, *by hand*, when you have magic. The *nerve* of that asshole!”
> Inari lets out a wheezing laugh, stirring at last from his stupor and throwing his arms (and tails) around you. Enclosed in his warmth, you can hardly move, but you don’t mind in the slightest, even as a ravenous sucking sensation takes you, followed by a bright flash of red. However, just as you’re strapping in for the long haul, the sensation ends and he pulls away.
>He’s still thin, but close enough to his normal build that you don’t feel a constant pang of sympathy while looking at him. Little deposits of fat and cuts of muscle have settled in attractive places across his body; he possesses a lean, graceful look that you might expect to see on an aristocrat of his standing.
>When you look at him more inquisitively, he answers “I thought I’d try “normal”, too. For a little while at least. After all, the best part of normal is making it weird. Now…”
> “It’s time I started to ease you out of your comfort zone, and into mine.”
 
>Inari pushes forward, digging his paws into the silken sheets and pressing his body into yours for all he’s worth, but even as the first follicles of his fur hit your belly, you know it’s anything but a normal hug. A momentary silence encapsulates the two of you, as your comparatively dark eyes meet Inari’s shining scarlet ones. He licks his jowls, letting his excitement flare outward through his markings as a growing sensation of need overtakes you.
>You can feel your pulse quicken of its own accord as Inari’s lewd magic goes to work; you know he’s not targeting you directly, but something in his scent is driving you wild. The sounds of rutting beasts fills your ears, and you freeze beneath the oppressive harmony of your lover’s unbridled desire and the natural world’s own bottomless breed-hunger; the cacophonous chorus of coitus you hear every spring has found its concert-master. You can practically feel his body making ready to bear your heirs, and your own arousal surges forth in kind.
>Heat. There’s nothing else but heat. Your mind can hardly take the strain of how *horny* you are, and you’re not even hard yet; your entire body feels like it’s aflame with raw arousal! You reach out to Inari’s consciousness for answers, but draw back instantly like someone that just stuck their hand in a roaring bonfire. There is only more heat.  Only more lust. All you can think about is pinning him beneath you and joining in.
> Inari lets out a bestial cry that resounds through the whole palace as the divine energy continues surging through him. You have no doubt that if you weren’t a god, you would likely have gone deaf hearing it up-close. He kneads at your crotch, a completely red paw phasing right through your clothing to the trapped flesh within. It stiffens at his touch- only at his touch, and bursts from your fundoshi within a fraction of a second, achingly hard, but not growing an inch.
> The second time he strokes it, the heat jumps from his hand into you, and a familiar weight settles into your balls. Then, it grows by several orders of magnitude as Inari’s energy starts to affect you in earnest.
>There is no fighting back, no contest of wills or inertia to the changes your body is going through- Inari is assuming direct control, unassailable as divinity itself.
>Your testicles let out a fluid groan as their weight doubles, and doubles again, the pouch too full even to slosh. Within, you can feel the sperm battering against the walls, fighting with one another desperately for the right to be born, roiling and frothing with all the ferocity of a samurai legion charging into battle. Desperate for relief, you give in to the expansion and spread your legs to give them room, and the pressure drops back to what you’re used to… for a moment, before it doubles again beneath Inari’s groping paws.
> Inari looks at you, lounging purposefully atop your over-full ball sack while you writhe, painfully pent-up beneath him. His eyes and fur blaze wholly red with all the intensity of the noonday sun, and he releases your shaft, shimmying forward and sitting on it with one fluid motion. Then, he reaches through his own pelvis and strokes your shaft for a third time, his outline wavering slightly as he does so, little arcs of lightning striking the floor, the walls, and every other surface you can think of.
>You cannot help but moan as your cock balloons in his grip like a tree growing from a sapling in fast- motion; every beat of your heart brings fresh blood southward, expanding it by inches at a time. Though you can hardly see anything, the sensation tells you more than enough; Inari’s growls impatiently as though waiting for your outlandish equipment to forcibly break his grip, loosening it almost imperceptibly slowly in order to savor the moment when his paws can no longer encircle you.
>As he clutches increasingly less and less of your shaft, he gives a few more exploratory pumps, letting the smooth texture of his inner walls wrap around your erection however they may while he readjusts to the weight of it inside him.
>Even so, you’re able to hold on, just-barely to a sliver of control as the growth starts to slacken off- at least until you catch sight of Inari licking his lips and sneering down at you, his visage contorted into a gesugao that strikes terror into your heart. Though his stomach already bulges obscenely with the outline of your mammoth dong, it looks as though you’ve still got some growing to do, and you dare not even try to conceive of how much further Inari will go before he’ll consider you prepped and ready.
>Once your penis has fully retaken its old god-fucking proportions, the intense pressure constricting your shaft makes you rear back as the tip butts against your lover’s ribcage. As before, Inari’s bones form an odd sort of cock-ring impeding your growth, and you’ve never been more thankful for a moment to rest and process what exactly is happening. A moment which comes to an end all too soon.
>You don’t see it so much as you hear and feel it: an audible squelch, and an instant release from the pressure containing your member. Hesitantly, you crack an eyelid to find Inari slumped hollowly atop you, having torn out more than a few bones so as to allow you to fuck him even more roughly- the skin of his stomach is stretched so taut that you can make out the veins on your penis through his abdominal wall. Suddenly, your lover snaps to attention, and moved by a greater will than any physical limit could restrain, he begins to ride you.
 
>In lieu of his bones, you feel his inner sinews attach to your dong, gripping and groping it in countless impossible directions. You hear a single overpowering command issue from his maw, obliterating everything else in a shower of red-hot sparks: “THRUST!”. Your mind, unable to form a coherent thought, lies helpless as your hips start moving on their own.
>After that, things come to you in fragments as you fade in and out of consciousness- it’s all too much for your mostly-mortal sensibilities. You feel the pleasure course through you as Inari’s skin tugs and squeezes and milks at your cock, which has grown too bloated, too virile, and too obscene to be contained by anything other than your insatiable lover’s embrace.
>Dimly, in-between thrusts, you recall Gin’s words about the importance of understanding how your partner thinks of you, and himself. You’ve gotten a sense of how Inari thinks of you after floundering for so long – the sense is touch, and the touch is all-encompassing.
>Surely as water conforms to the vessel in which it is stored, Inari’s physical being takes the shape of your genitals, and your mind just stops thinking of anything other than the way he feels around you. You are both the container and the liquid inside of it, shaping and being shaped in turn. Perhaps that is what it feels like, on the most basic of levels, to be a God.
>You can hardly conceptualize it, but somehow, Inari is using his whole body to work over your gargantuan genitals. Everything is an erotic massage: from his heart buzzing energetically against the tip of your frenulum to the slow, steady squeeze of his blown-out intestines around the base of your implacable girth. The sensation is at once intensely familiar and utterly alien; you’re balls-deep in your lover’s ass, and you’re also hopelessly adrift in a sea of cosmic pleasure which has the rules of reality as you know it breaking down.
> Orgasm is no longer a thought in your head or a compulsion of your body. It’s who you are. Every orgasm since the dawn of creation thrums through you like the blood in your veins, as palpable and immediate as the motion of your fingers rubbing against one another. You understand, finally why Inari is so obsessed with the pursuit of harder and stronger orgasms- it’s the only way he can orient himself in this strange landscape of being and non-being.
>Equal parts terrifying and titillating, the vista that reveals itself before your unconscious eyes is of an unrecognizable scale. Swimming in a sea of inky black, pleasure is your guiding light, safe and regular as the patterns of the stars in the night sky; everywhere it exists, you exist, and are drawn in like a moth to a flame.
>You feel almost vestigial, your consciousness a mere afterthought in comparison to your raging libido. In the ever-present miasma of lust, there is nothing but you and Inari, a universe unto yourselves; chaotically flowing from one state to the next, coupling and writhing in pursuit of satisfaction that never ends.
>You cum, and the space in which you’re floating begins to warp. An unintelligibly deep rumble fills your ears, almost like the sound of rushing water, and the distant stars seem to converge towards the source of the sound. You want to be concerned, to search alongside them, but the afterglow is too powerful, dragging you from your dream into some deeper layer of unconsciousness.
 
>By the time you wake, everything still feels a little floaty, the sensation of your own feet upon the tatami floor slightly unusual- but there is no trace of anything from the previous night. Inari is gone, your genitals are normal, if a little tender, and the bed is pristine. Then you open the door, and the smell hits you in the face.
>Flowers. Everything you can see is awash in petals of all colors, bathed in the overwhelming scent of spring. You see red camellias, purple wisteria boughs, yellow buttercups, blue morning glories, overwhelming pink cherry blossoms and several others you’re not familiar with- more flowers than you knew existed are arrayed before you in a veritable explosion of gorgeous sights and enticing smells, and there is no doubt in your mind it’s Inari’s doing.
 >Foxes lounge throughout the gardens, drinking, laughing, and doing whatever is their wont in the sudden festival atmosphere. You can hardly believe your eyes- they do not flee as you approach, but beckon you over with open arms, raising toasts in your name and offering their heartiest congratulations. A few of them even look to have more on their mind, flagrantly baring their bodies in the hopes of securing more pleasurable company for themselves.
>Your mind takes a little time to process what it all means: a flower-viewing party in midwinter, and a legion of friendly, frisky foxes singing your praises? Inari’s pregnant, and in his typical fashion, has gone absolutely over the moon in advertising that fact to everyone possible.
> The walk from the bedroom to the study confirms your second lover shares your suspicions; as Gin nudges against you en-route, he rolls his eyes and sighs at the big to-do, even as he purposefully rubs his own stomach. You throw your arms around him and press your belly into his, resting your head on his expansive chest as you do so.
> Taking a quiet moment to show how much he means to you has gotten Gin’s heart racing again, and he returns your hug with every ounce of warmth he has. However, his excitement soon begins to outstrip his restraint, and he starts shifting about on his feet before too long, unable to stand still any longer. You’re going to have to be careful about spoiling them all absolutely rotten; Gods know that both of your lovers and your unborn children deserve all the love that you can give.
>Eventually, you withdraw, but only enough that you can comfortably walk to the study together arm-in-arm. When you finally throw open the doors Inari all-but jumps on top of the both of you, sweeping you into his enormous arms and laughing. It looks like whatever fraction of your sexual energy he absorbed last night was more than enough to make his body grow to incredible proportions.
> He’s a full head taller than both you and Gin, and is more than happy to use his newfound size to manhandle the both of you into a cuddle-puddle that would make even the harshest blizzard as temperate as a spring day- it looks as though your little session with him last night has him feeling 10 feet tall, literally, and all too happy to broadcast his exuberance by lavishing you both with physical affection.
>Gin protests, but his wagging tails betray his real feelings, and Inari responds with a round of good-natured teasing. The longer the playful banter goes on, the more at home you feel, and even as the barbs take a turn for the caustic you recognize that there’s no real malice in it. You wind almost want to grow a second head so you can kiss them both quiet at the same time, but you give Gin a knowing wink and he quickly joins you in nipping at Inari’s throat until he submits.
> Moments like this give you confidence that no matter what strange circumstances come your way as a result of the ensuing pregnancies, you’ll be able to find a way to beat the odds and see things through together. This is your life, these are your lovers, and soon, you’ll have a family. If things continue their upward spiral, you may finally start to feel like you’re in heaven. And if the universe itself should disagree- you have no problem punching its lights out as you did to Lord Susano all those years ago.