"That's not the way to hold your sword." Master Van gets behind you and wraps his hands around your wrists and over your hands, adjusting your grip. "Like this."

You nod and pretend to listen as he continues to explain the how and why. It's something that even you already knew, but you don't mind pretending to be a bit dumb. Not with Master Van's chest against your back, his hands on your skin and his voice by your ear.

When practice ends and Master Van leaves, you go straight for the shower, making sure the water's cold enough to wash away his warmth.

---

Now you're lying down in bed, blanket shoved down to the foot of the mattress. At this time of night, almost everyone but the night guards are asleep; everyone else but you.

You can't sleep. Or more correctly, you don't want to. You don't want to sleep; instead you want to think about what happened earlier, with Master Van holding your hands, guiding them.

Then you start thinking about what didn't happen, how Master Van's hands didn't move across your arms, over your shoulders and down your chest and how his touch didn't make you gasp.

And then you start to think of what you'd like to happen, how you'd like to have Master Van move his hands down your stomach, like you're doing to yourself right now, and how you'd like him to keep moving his hands down, down, down until they're under the fabric of your pants. Your own hands do the same.

Master Van'd wrap his hand, rough and calloused, around you. You hiss and bite your lip. Then he'd whisper something, anything kind in your ear as he starts to stroke you. You can't help but groan, just a little.

He would know just how to do it, how to go just fast enough to make it worth it and just slow enough for you to feel it. He's Master Van after all, he'd know how to make it feel good. In his hands, it would only take a few strokes for you to finish and shout his name. Not Master, just

"Van!"

And like that it'll be over. You pull back your own hand and look down at the mess in your hand with a grimace.

Master Van wouldn't be disgusted or angry; he'd understand. He'd even be nice enough to stay and help clean it off. Because that's the sort of thing Master Van does, and that's why you love him.