BY : Artemick
Category: Rurouni Kenshin > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 5882
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin and make no money writing about it.


Rain beat down on the roof of the police station.

Kenshin was familiar with places like this. They'd sprung up during the dawn of the Restoration. The roofs were constructed quickly, with great pride and hope, high expectations of performance. But hasty work left cracks. The cracking formed so soon after construction that supervisors, such as the police chief Yamagata here, could not ask for funding to fix them without losing face. They'd have to admit they were too overextended to notice the construction was poor.

Kenshin tightened his hand over the wound in his shoulder. He breathed as slowly when he slept, trying to slow his heartbeat and the blood loss. His pulse hurt, slamming against smeared nerve endings. The wound was swelling.

Kenshin shut his eyes, listening to the change in sound from inside and outside rain, measuring space by the echoes.

Footsteps clicked down the hall. They were quick, perhaps tense from the chief's chastisement, and intent. Kenshin woke from his meditation.

Saito took off his hat and handed it to another guard.

Kenshin opened his eyes and watched match light lick Saito's face. The shadows cast from his high bronze cheekbones made him look lupine, feral and unearthly.

The man cupped his hand around his mouth. He pulled away, sucking smoke. The white paper glowed in the dim prison.


Kenshin watched him as the smoke drift from around his teeth. "I'm to be released. As a policeman, aren't you bound to follow orders?"

"Don't fuck with me."

Kenshin stared. "You haven't changed."

Saito crouched down. He blew smoke through the steel cage.

Kenshin asked, "How different are your cigarettes from the cocaine you hunt?"

"Tobacco works slower. Like me. Like justice. We're getting old, friend." Saito nodded to the guard. "Open the door."

"We're getting his belongings now, sir," a guard explained, saluting. "We'll have them for you in a moment."

"Open it now. That's an order."

Kenshin's eyes followed the exchange.

The guard got his keys out and went to the door, silent.

Saito grinned. He hung on the steel bars of the cell to Kenshin's face. "Get up, dog."

Kenshin inhaled, looking away. Hours before, Saito'd thrown him to the ground in their fight, and the rain and muddy water that had soaked his clothes. Now Kenshin was wet through to the skin, and in the shadowy jail, beginning to shiver.

"Let's deal, Battousai."

Kenshin watched the door opening, but did not stand to leave. "People in this town are terribly rude."

Saito smiled. Smoke curled from his nostrils. "Get up, or I'll investigate that dojo you like."


"You're new here. You have no idea what liabilities that girl has. She shouldn't own property at her age."

"She manages it well. A responsible, productive citizen is a blessing for a policeman."

"I know. She's lucky I have mercy and she behaves. This is a corrupt system. Things happen that shouldn't."

They were both still.

Kenshin's hand was sticking to the drying blood to the open wound on his shoulder.

He rose slowly and ducked under the door, coming up beside Saito.

"There we go." Saito grit the cigarette in his teeth and grabbed Kenshin's collar.

Kenshin turned his face down, clutching his shoulder. "That's unnecessary."

"I got him," Saito announced to the guard. "Lock it."

"Leave Kaoru alone, please, Saito. We have nothing to do with each other. And she's a good person."

"I'm sure." Saito let go. He began to guide Kenshin with startling delicacy, as if the boy were a feeble old man. Kenshin walked ahead, avoiding Saito's touch.

The station was solemn. Rain lay a blanket over the sounds of the other prisoners and the drilling recruits. Everyone pulled into corners, trying to avoid the dripping roof, pretending reality was better than it was. That they were in the revolution's dream future that didn't yet exist.

Kenshin's eyes slid from one to the next. No one looked at him.

Saito brought Kenshin to the door. Kenshin looked into the storm outside, seeing the silvery blankets of rain crashing on the floor of the square outside the police station. He was almost free, but without his sword.

Saito squeezed his bloody shoulder. "Not yet."

Kenshin's knees grew weak from the pain, and Saito shoved him sideways through a door, into a small pantry.

Kenshin caught himself against a table, panting as fresh blood seeped out, flooding his palm.

Saito shut the door. Kenshin looked up. The smell of stored rice and fish rose in his lungs.

"I won't fight you." Kenshin said.

"I know. That's worth respect. Even more than your strength."

Kenshin stilled, letting the cigarette smoke circle. Then Saito reached around him. He put the cigarette out of the table Kenshin was leaning against.

Kenshin watched him crush the ash. Saito was unarmed, as was Kenshin. However, Kenshin was starving; his mouth watered being so near food. Travel had exhausted him. He was injured. He was out of practice. Saito was well fed, rested, and obviously sparred every day. Where Kenshin was ashamed and at odds in his heart, Saito was full of duty and acceptance; he was driven where Kenshin was conflicted. And the biggest deciding factor: they were in a police station. If Kenshin raised a hand, he would be perceived as the aggressor -- attacking the lawful government and its enforcers. Help would be called, charges filed. Any force Kenshin used would be disorderly; any Saito used would be justified. A deeply brutal attack would have no consequences for Saito, but could get Kenshin hanged.

Kenshin could sense his own weakness, and he did not want trouble. But he didn't know what Saito wanted from him.

The rain filled the silence.

"I won't teach you," Kenshin said.

"I have my own style. I don't need you messing it up." Saito put his hands on Kenshin's arms for a moment, but retreated as Kenshin winced. "Sorry, sorry. I guess we are rude, aren't we. But you can't say you aren't used to bad manners! You've lived in the city."

"I've been away. In the mountains."


"Living. I learned to farm. I learned to cook. I'm done, Saito. This fight between us is done."

"I know. I'm glad for it." Saito touched Kenshin's hip.

Kenshin's body tensed. His mind connected the action to the intention. "Let me out!"

Saito stepped back. "I want us to be friends."

"That is not friendship. Let me go!" Kenshin turned, setting his weight and balance against Saito's.


Kenshin sunk his weight, becoming immobile, and he shoved Saito back – only an inch, but very hard. Saito's ribs compressed; his breath huffed out, pushing through his lips. He crossed his hand over his chest, choking.

"You want to humiliate me," Kenshin said. Saito shook his head, but Kenshin scoffed, "That's fine, I deserve retribution. But not from you. You've murdered as many innocents. And justice for me will not ever be this, not rape. I have never touched anyone like that against their will. Never."

Saito coughed, catching his breath.

Kenshin's words rushed as his breath grew shallow. "You're a killer, Saito, like me, but your side won. You have power now. You can crush me, I know that. You can hold me down and do what you like. I understand. So I will grovel, beg apology, or leave town. That should be enough for you. Don't touch me!"

Saito pulled back his hands, then held up a finger. "Remember Kaoru."

Kenshin coiled, ready to brace for leverage to escape.

"You have a choice, Battousai," Saito coughed, straightening. "You can calm down and go home to your cute friend. A dry hearth, a sound roof. Or you can fight me, and I will put you down – make you kill me, or make you submit – "

"You can't do either."

"You think you can run? I will tear that dojo down to the struts. I'll have it repossessed. Turn it into a brothel. Whatever I feel like – depends on how angry I get when I think of you. Then, when off Kaoru's starving in the streets, I'll find some short gaijin whore with red hair, strap her in hakama, and I won't know the difference. I'll lay her down where Kaoru let her guests sleep and think of you while I bring her off."

"Seems like hard work. Something I know is beyond you."

"Maybe I need motivation."

"Let me go. Now! What you're suggesting shames you."

"Kiss me or I will ruin Kaoru."

Kenshin stared. Then he shrugged, sighing. Holding the table, he pushed up on his toes and kissed the man's mouth.

Saito shivered. He opened his eyes, staring intently at Kenshin. He shoved his hands around the boy, but Kenshin leapt back, knocking into the table. He clutched his shoulder, breath catching as Saito reached for him. "Wait! Saito, wait. I don't know anything about this. Stop!"

"I know you better than you think. You've been wandering. Wouldn't you like to be loved? You haven't been touched for ten years. Maybe more."

Kenshin slid himself back into the corner. He eyed the door, but forced his face down. "I don't want to trouble Kaoru. But what you want from me -- I don't even know how."

"It's all right. I know you're a virgin."

Kenshin clung to the shelves, his other hand on his shoulder.

"I know you wrap your chest."

Kenshin scrutinized his face, keeping his hand across his chest and grasping his bleeding shoulder. 

"I know what you are -- "

"I live on the street. I am often attacked while I sleep. From bastards like you. Of course I'm injured, and bandaged."

"No. Ha, no. I realized when I saw you with Kaoru. You rush to her like a sister. She loves you. You're easy with women because you understand them -- and there's nothing at stake. They love you because you protect them and demand nothing. Beyond that, it's hard to tell. Your gestures are masculine…but so are Kaoru's. It's not manliness; they're shaped by kenjutsu. But hiding makes sense, knowing your life."

"You don't know my life."

"I know the world. Women are targeted even when they're strong. You witnessed it. But you can defend yourself, so why pretend?"

Kenshin breathed for a moment, then said, "Because you're right. Women are targeted, and I can't survive an onslaught or an assassination campaign. Nor could the people around me. This is easier."

"Ha! As Battousai? Hiding your period?"

"My master warned there would be men like you."


The words rolled over his tongue, and he smirked. Kenshin shifted. "If you have respect for me, and if you understand that women suffer, and you can name the evil you commit, then why do this, Saito?"

"Hunger for hell. And for all this. This haggard body, your character incarnate -- I want it." Saito chuckled and held up a finger. "You shaved yourself down to a single perfect skill."

"That's not true, I – "

"You like gardening. I forgot."

Kenshin let his breath out, his lip curling. "Have decency. You have more power than me now. You could kill me if you like. Have mercy."

"Not on you. No. That you're female is no defense - "

"I know. It's bait."

"I meant your frame. It's your weakness, but it obviously didn't stop you. If anything, your skill was strengthened by your form. And your heart. When you lay down that sword so many years ago, when I thought you were a boy, you had already mastered me. I don't care what body you're in. I just want that nobility."

"Get back."

"I will, if you like. I know the exact whore to hire. Soft nature, frail as a cat. She can do your voice." Saito smiled.

"Why involve anyone else? I'll leave town today."

"It's your choice. But if you play one game with me, you protect a home to return to, and a friend. You want that, don't you?" Saito clicked his tongue, as he tried to touch Kenshin's dripping hair. "It's too wet to go out now anyway. Let's play. The streets are flooded."

Kenshin knocked his hand away. "I don't mind rain. I've slept in storms for ten years -- while you were taking false oaths to get those white captain's gloves. Do your job. Kaoru lives here. She's a citizen of your district, deserving your protection. Her taxes pay your salary. I'm a wanderer. I have no home. I'll leave."

"I don't want you to leave."

"Please allow it."

"I want to taste you just once, so I can stop wondering." Saito's voice was deceptively calm, practiced at threats. "Kenshin. You have my word – just once. You ended the match; let me end my obsession. Afterwards, I won't even look your way when we pass on the street. I won't tell anyone. And Kaoru will give you a home."

Kenshin leaned against the wall.

"Battousai -"


Saito stepped up, and Kenshin shut his eyes, saying, "Don’t finish. I can't get pregnant."

"I'd never do that to a partner. I'm very responsible," he crooned.

Kenshin felt deeply nauseous. He hid his wounded shoulder away. "You're a corrupt cop, a rapist, and a poor swordsman. Don't tell me you're responsible."

"Shut up."

Kenshin waited. His shoulders were tense as stone. After a moment, he peeled off the shoulder of his kimono.

"No, stay as you are, Battosai. I wouldn't have you be a woman for me."

Kenshin pressed his lips together. "I am a woman either way."

"But don't relax. Don't undress. Stay as you are. Perfect. I like you tense…like in battle. I want you exactly as you are in the moments when you are most alone. As you are in the fight."

Saito's hands came up and he smoothed his fingers back through Kenshin's hair.

The touch felt good, as did Saito's mouth.

Kenshin did relax his jaw, and let the man move over him. Then he kissed back. He was not completely innocent; he had been brought up by women forced into prostitution and he remembered them performing their work. They had started the whole thing, decided to bring Kenshin up as a boy. They did not want their child to share in their hardship, only their joy – the joy of quiet, of family, of cooking dinner together when work was over. They wanted to protect Kenshin from what women suffered.

Yet here he was.

Kenshin jerked away.

"Come back." Saito began to stroke Kenshin's face. The touch was hypnotic. "I know virgins like to bolt. I'll have no trouble with you though, will I? Be good, and Kaoru will keep her walled garden. I'm sure it needs weeding. Someone dedicated. You'll have a home. Think about that. You'd like to have friends, wouldn't you, Battousai? It'll feel good. I'll make it slow. And afterwards, you'll be safe forever."

He pulled Kenshin to him. His chest was warm. He began to massage Kenshin's back. "Very slow."

Kenshin curled his hands around the man's waist.

"Warm earth. Sun. Ha, plenty of time on your knees. Practicing. Not that anyone will ever see through you. Only me."

Kenshin was nearly asleep against him. He had not realized humans needed touch so badly. Something in his heart opened, recognizing another person. He wanted to weep. The man was so gentle.

Saito kissed his hair.

Kenshin pulled away, trembling. His body flooded with yearning to be caressed – a physical promise of life and care. "I don't deserve...just finish."

"No. My way. Suffer." Saito pulled him back, and stroked Kenshin's hair.

Slowly, Kenshin leaned into him. The heat along was a relief. He leaned into Saito's strong hands, yet he felt the man's erection pulling taut against the uniform trousers. Kenshin's robes did little to block it.

"I love this uniform. Hard. Tight. Stiff." Saito undid his fly and slid his hand in, pulled out his cock, guarding his flushed sac. Kenshin glanced up at him, then down, biting the inside of his lip in fear. Saito stroked himself. With the other hand he hooked a finger in Kenshin's hakama ties. "And vulnerable Japan! Tattered silk, beaten and worn tradition - "

"Huh? That's not – Saito -- !"

"Held together with a pretty sash, folded with careful delicate movements. 'Expel the barbarian' – I suppose not. Take it off."

Kenshin brows drew together. After a moment, he unwrapped the ties of the hakama. He stepped loose of them smoothly and set them on the table.

Saito let his breath out, eyes dropping to where Kenshin's kimono hung over his thighs.

Saito's presence became too real then, too mechanically physical – Kenshin was past the academic issue of right; now he was only thinking of the very real pain if he couldn't relax. And he couldn't. He hadn't really been calm since he was a child. His stomach barely processed food; blood rushed to his core and his digestion shut down when he fought, practiced, or was afraid. He was cold all the time. He was thin. He'd spent most of his days anxious. Nauseous. In the last years, he was wracked with regret, losing weight until he was barely a scarecrow.

Kenshin looked up at the man. "You'll also leave the gaijin woman alone, if I do this?"

"Ha. You don't even know if the whore's real."

"Swear you won't hurt anyone because of me."

Saito shrugged. "I'm kind to my lovers. Even you."

"This is not kindness." Kenshin remembered the women, his guardians, being assaulted. They would pretend it didn't happen and then have nightmares. "There were many women passing as men during the war. Why hurt me, specifically?"

"I didn't know you were a woman, Kenshin, until today. I knew you were a force."


"I regret we never fought. I never heard you argue for your organization or its causes. I imagined if I could drag the blade through you…" He started to trace his finger across the Kenshin's shoulder, causing him to flinch in horror. Saito stopped and pulled back, rubbing his fingertips together. "Anyway. I thought I could understand you. This wraith in my memories, my war dreams. By being inside you – "

"Don't make this my fault! You want to show me you're powerful enough to hurt me. That's it."

"I want to show you I became wise." He stepped near. His fingertips pushed up Kenshin's thighs, ruching the kimono silk over his thighs.

"No, stop – please!" Kenshin curled, shaking.

Saito moved his hand in to stroke Kenshin's groin. "Stop?"

"Let…let me out of this deal. Just let us go. Them too. Kaoru's a stranger, I'm a wanderer. We can't hurt you."

"Yes you can." Saito moved near, rubbing him.

It felt like when Kenshin touched himself – a little faster, more brutal, but Saito watched his expression and changed, making his touch pleasurable. Kenshin stared into his eyes, caught, an animal. He began blushing. The small muscles of his thighs jerked and trembled. Saito rubbed him, smiling, fingertips circling loosely. Kenshin's chest heaved. He leaned into the man. His hand came up against Saito's chest, and his fingers clutched into his jacket.

"You like that, do you?" Saito put an arm around him, cradling him to the side. With Kenshin's weight off his feet, Saito slide his hand down, stroking him, rubbing faster. "You like me touching you."

Kenshin let his head rock back. He stared up, eyes shutting, mouth open. Saito teased, and his whole body rocked, suspended and pleased. His thighs tensed, jerking his knees out.

"Yes. Give me that lip." Saito leaned down. He caught Kenshin's lower lip in a kiss and sucked. Kenshin panted. Saito chuckled, pulling back. He rubbed harder, taunting, as if his words held no edge at all: "Battosai. Murderer. Can't you control yourself?"

Kenshin's heart ached with a guilt thick as lake ice in deep winter, holding down latent monsters.  

Saito squeezed him. "You like that?"

Kenshin trembled, hips pushing into Saito's hand. He wanted to beg. But it was too surreal. The dark room, the loud strangers around the police station outside. His mind was in a thousand places at once.

Saito snapped his fingers. "Battosai."

Kenshin's eyes flicked up.

"Put your leg on the table. Lift your foot. Get up there."

Kenshin sat up on the table. Saito let him. Then Saito shoved him back and down, and leaned in, mouthing Kenshin's groin through the silk.

Kenshin gripped the table.

"Oh. Yes." Saito pushed the silk aside and sucked.

Kenshin pushed his thighs open, drawing up his knees, opening himself to Saito. The touch was strange, the man's tongue. Kenshin had never been part of such an act. Saito seemed to enjoy him as if they were alone in the building. He was brazen, grabbing Kenshin's hips hard.

Kenshin's flesh grew flush, tender. "Please – "

Saito pushed his palm down over him, pressing and shaking. Kenshin cried out at the pressure, and Saito laughed.

"What? Please what, rebel?"

Kenshin clutched at his shoulder, trying to keep calm. He was sweating into the wound.

Saito climbed up on the table, shoving his knees under Kenshin's. He pulled Kenshin up into his arms. "You like that? My cock against your clit. I always looked for you, your narrow shoulders. You would pause in the middle of the fight and watch. Like a spirit, you could pass safely through the middle of the battle. I dreamed of fucking you. In front of my troops."

Hearing that, Kenshin twisted away. But it only made Saito groan and clutch him back.

"Yes, in front of them. I wanted them to see me hold you down, to let them know there was nothing to fear. Forgive the simplicity. I was young." Saito inhaled, nose deep in Kenshin's hair. "But they thought you were a ghost. I knew you were full of blood…and brilliance. That you had a body to be cut or kissed. I knew you were human. But the more I saw your work the less I was sure."

His hands worked Kenshin's ass, fingers wide over Kenshin's flank, squeezing deep. Kenshin clutched at Saito, arching his back. Saito guided him, pulling Kenshin's hips to glide up and down his cock. Finally, Kenshin got his feet under him and lifted his own weight, grinding against Saito's erection.

"Oh, will you rise and fall for me, mercenary?"

Kenshin's body grew tense. He stopped.

"What? Are you more afraid of my cruelty or affection?"

"Do what you want."

Saito stroked Kenshin's neck. "Shall I hurry?"

The touch was startling. Kenshin ducked. "No one's expecting me."

"Then I'll take my time."

Kenshin trembled against him, shaken by a sadness so bone-deep his skin prickled. No one was expecting him.

"Are you cold?"


Saito tutted and held him close. He took his hand and breathed hot on Kenshin's fingertips. It burned.

Kenshin looked away. His skin warmed under Saito's breath, and then the condensation cooled. Kenshin began to shiver again.

"Look at these beautiful calloused palms. What a life is etched here. What excellence born from need and empty focus."

Tears came to Kenshin's eyes to hear that another person could see this. He wept, silent, shuddering. I was starving, he wanted to say. I didn't know.

Saito's hand closed, crushing Kenshin's. "Am I making you cry?"

Kenshin jerked his hand free. "I made enough people cry."

Saito grabbed his throat. He kissed him. Then he pressed his head in. "Will you make me cry?"

Kenshin wiped his face, clenching. His breath hitched.

"Well?" Saito pinched him. "Sob, child."

Kenshin smoothed his breath and pulled his hand back. "I will break your spine if you do this to another person."

"I won't. You're the only time I ever felt the need," Saito said, voice trailing off. He squinted at Kenshin. "There is no punishment for people like us, is there?"

Kenshin wasn't sure.

"You feel bad, Hitokiri?"

"What I feel is nothing compared to what I did. My guilt doesn't reverse anything. Don't taunt me. You dishonor everyone I hurt and everyone you protect now when you make light of this."

"Nope. I'll say what I like. New world, no honor. I'm a police officer. I do a job." Saito rolled his hips up, grinding against Kenshin's groin. "I even enjoy it some days."

Kenshin leaned against him as Saito finished with him. His shoulder bled. His heart hurt, even as his body fell into Saito's rhythm. Saito was not trying to get off, nor overwhelmed as a normal man. He was nonchalant, living out a ritualized dream. He took Kenshin's hand again, licking his fingernails and nipping the webbing of his thumbs. Then he squeezed the nape of Kenshin's neck while he kissed his throat.

Kenshin began to relax in the silent touch. He held himself tight to Saito, his hips jerking until he hit the right angle to break over the man like a wave. He rode it, fucking against the man's thick hard cock. Saito clapped a hand hard against his ass like he were spurring a horse, cheering him on. Kenshin flinched, grabbing the man's shoulders, one hand bloody, his shoulder left open.

Saito pressed him against the wall. He rubbed his thighs, hissing, "Come for me, Battousai. Come."

Kenshin turned away, shuddering.

"You don't deserve it. But you'll feel it." Saito slipped his fingers in between them, pressing on his clit. "I'll make you shake."

Kenshin shifted, and Saito swung around. Throwing his own back to the wall, he pulled Kenshin's ass into his lap and slid his hand over him. "Spread your legs."

Kenshin obeyed, and began to climax as Saito rubbed tight circles over him.

"Saito," Kenshin begged, "Let go." But Saito kept on, bringing him through one orgasm into another. Kenshin cried out, panting, lifting his legs. Saito's touch was soft, then deep. Kenshin grabbed his shoulder as the pain in his shoulder suddenly grew acute. His breath hitched. "S-stop. Please."

Saito slowed at his tone.

Kenshin clutched at his shoulder again, where blood soaking down over his breast and staining the bandages. The pain returned, throbbing with the pulse of his heartbeat. Saito put his hand over Kenshin's, adding his own strength. He leaned his chin down over Kenshin's shoulder.

"That's the problem with your new merciful blade, idiot. The edge cuts toward you."

"I know." Kenshin grit out. "To do what is right, you must be strong. More skilled than your enemies. Morality is a luxury of the strong. That is the world we live in."

He caught Saito's eyes and held them. He had not killed men in years, and it was a long time since he had felt so compromised or shamed.

Swallowing the pain, Kenshin said, "My viciousness that cowed you and enticed you, that was weakness. A hungry child wanting to live. This wound is from strength. Wanting others to live. The reverse blade is turned to protect you, even when you seek to murder me." Kenshin panting, holding onto his shoulder. He cringed, eyes stinging.

Saito embraced him. "I love you."

"Shut up! You don't know me. You're hurting me! You don't love me."

"Guard your interests. Consider working for us. Because if you keep that blade reversed, next time I will push it through your throat."

Kenshin scoffed. "You're sick."

"I want to be in you."

Kenshin froze. He knew there would be horrible pain. Different pain, different from fight wounds and more invasive. Deeper, sharper. "Is there anything else you'd accept from me?"

"Besides yourself?"

"Another act. Licking your shoe."

Saito held his breath for an instant. "Did someone ask you for that?"

Kenshin turned. "Is that acceptable?"

"Would you do it?"

"For Kaoru. Sure."

"What about for a stranger on the street?"

"You can't keep threatening people! You are the police, the law, you have responsibility."

"Answer me."

Kenshin imagined it. Ashamed, he nodded. Of course he would. He'd do it for anyone, because he was doing it for himself. To make the world he wanted, without violence or victims. It was expensive. It took work. One had to be strong to be good. To survive the consequences of being good. To survive the snarls that living by ideals caused.

"I'm rurouni. I don’t matter. I'll do whatever's needed."

"I don't want that or anything like it," Saito said. "I want you to be strong, as strong as when I saw you fight. I want you to be pure. I want you willing to do anything to stop conflict. You're still that samurai."

"I was never anything but a child who didn't understand why everything had to involve violence."

They both caught their breath as Saito began to trace the back of his fingernails up and down Kenshin's bare thighs.

"I want you. Strong. But also wrapped around me."

"Please forget about this. I don't know how."

"Don't be afraid." Saito cock was leaking over his ass. The man pushed his thumb through Kenshin's lips. "Suck me like you sucked your master's hilt."

Kenshin twisted away, Saito's thumb dragging saliva over his cheek. "You mean Hiko? That never happened!"

"Hiko knew you were female. Why didn't he initiate you?"

"He's a moron, not a monster."

"But he had this whore's pet for a student – "

"I was a child, Saito! I was nine!"

"Ah, right - I forgot. I just remember that whip of a teenager you were when we met," he simpered. "Not a beat-down wanderer in thin silk, soaking from the rain. It's no wonder you're freezing."

Saito was breathing hard, excited. Kenshin pretended it did not disturb him.

"Tell me. Why won't you kill me now for doing this to you?"

"You're the detective."

"I suspect. But tell me."

Kenshin was quiet for a long time. Finally he said, "We killed for peace. I will bear any suffering to protect this new world."

"You won't suffer when I touch you. I swear."

Kenshin turned away. "Acting out this shitty fantasy won't give you any understanding of me."

"You're wrong."

Kenshin struggled away from his fingers, but did not leave. Saito stroked him, his hand sinking down Kenshin's body, dipping between his legs. Kenshin grew wet. Minutes later, in the silence of breath, Saito licked his fingertip. "May I?"

Kenshin nodded. Saito's massage, his closeness, the steadiness of his presence – it caused a physical reaction in Kenshin. He wanted it even as he wished to hide. And at least this way, his past could not stain his partner; Saito was already horrific.

Saito pressed in. Whatever his stature in the police, he was an evil man, Kenshin thought. He could do good, but it was not his nature – it was not even his goal. He chose skill over anything. As a result, Kenshin thought, Saito was directionless.

Kenshin grabbed Saito's thighs. Saito moved slowly as spring thaw.

"Don't tremble so. I'm only barely in you. One finger. Does it hurt?"

"No." It did not feel good or bad – only there. Almost nothing.

"I don't want to hurt you. Or humiliate you." He chuckled. "You're so naturally good with people. But you're afraid of me."

"Those who gain power always abuse it."

"By collecting beautiful things to run their hands over," Saito purred.

"Trampling the rights of others."

Saito pulled his finger out. He drew his middle finger into his mouth and held them before Kenshin. "Two now."

Kenshin grabbed the arm Saito wrapped around his chest. Kenshin was deeply afraid of the violation – of never being able to forget this happened. Of the scar. "Saito!"

"This feels the best. Two like this. When you're relaxed though. Ordinarily, I'd save this for the next night. Tame you. But you're making me hurry."

Kenshin's head turned, eyes sharp.

"What?" Saito asked. He had a slight sweat in his hairline. His eyes were bright and focused.

"Can…can I have another night? Can we wait? You know where I'll be. With Kaoru. If you give me – "

"No. It'd be cruel." Saito stroked Kenshin's hair from his face. "You'll be terrified for the days in between. You might run."

"What do you care?"

He kissed Kenshin's jaw and ear. "Fine. But you will dress. Then you will kiss me. Then you will promise to come back tomorrow."

Kenshin hesitated. He did not want to come back to this prison. To this room. The table and wall smeared with Kenshin's blood and sweat. Neither did he want to leave the press of the man's body and the touch of his hands. He felt cherished.

Kenshin swallowed. An offer of more time would buy peace for the dojo, and a moment for him to recover. "Please."

"Bend over."


"I'm letting you go, but not clean. Let me leave you a reminder."

He slid off the table and manhandled Kenshin to the floor beside him. Kenshin knelt there, holding the cut on his shoulder. Saito grasped his cock, stroking it towards Kenshin's face. The scent was strong, and the grate of skin on skin seemed loud.

Saito said, "Put your hands up."

Kenshin offered his hands, first the clean one, then the blood-smeared one. Saito moved them around his shaft. Fucking gently between Kenshin's palms, Saito began to laugh, and moaned. "Those callouses."

Kenshin flushed, and Saito tightened his grip. He came, and Kenshin turned, flinching as the wet struck his cheek.

Saito dropped to the ground. His knees fell outside Kenshin's, squeezing in. He smiled. Then he took the hem of Kenshin's robe, and wiped himself off. "You've done something kind."

Kenshin felt sick. Hearing that, he knew he had chosen wrong. He cooperated. Now Saito thought it was permissible because Kenshin had acquiesced. It was blackmail, but Saito pretended his cooperation was approval.

Kenshin could not have fought the police, or the whole government he put in place with his sword, over his own virginity. It was stupid. He knew that. But he felt sick, and tired from being constantly wrong.

"Are you going to get up? Should I offer a hand?"

Kenshin ignored him and stood. He touched his hakama, then returned. "I changed my mind. Just…finish. I don't care how much it hurts. One time and it's over? Just hurry."

Saito stood. "I did not mean to hurt you so badly."

"I'm not hurt." Kenshin held his shoulder. "It doesn't matter what I feel."

"I mean…you seem hurt. Go home."

Kenshin straightened his kimono. "I'll wait, if you're spent."

Saito stood. He took out a cigarette. "Your voice has changed since I've touched you. I didn't intend for that to happen."

Kenshin glared. "So I'm broken?"

"Broken glass cuts whoever touches it." Saito sat back, tucking himself away.

Kenshin looked at the door. "Your word isn't any good, is it? You'll bother Kaoru whenever you want to hurt me – "

"I won't. I mean, sure, I was going to, yeah. But I'll try not to."

Kenshin almost laughed, surprised. Then a melancholy overtook him. "I'm trying to braid a life from myself from threads that keep ripping. I'm afraid I'll have nothing left. Please. Please let me have a peaceful home, Saito."

Saito waved his hand. "Stop."

Kenshin looked down, seeing the damp stains on his kimono. He wiped at them.

"Sorry, Himura."

"It's all right. There are many stains."

Saito hesitated. "There's bandages for your shoulder."

"No, please. Just forget I was here. Forget you saw me."

He offered Kenshin the hakama. "Let me escort you outside."

Saito walked Kenshin to the gate.

Kenshin received his sword from a guard, bowed, and was sent outside into the street. Kenshin tried to remember where the dojo was from here, yet decided he should leave for the edge of town as swiftly as he could walk.

But the assistant master was there, Kaoru, with her shinai and an extra umbrella.

If she noticed the stains on his clothes and soul, she did not remark.

She invited him home, and Kenshin followed her like a dog. He dreamed of the gardening inside the walls, meditating in the clean dojo, cooking for a new friend. He limped, slow, but he followed.

"You're hurt?"

"It's nothing." Kenshin smiled.

Kaoru grinned. "Thank you for your help."

"It's nothing."

"I have bandages and medicine. I get hurt all the time. I think you should stay for a while. Like you told me, what – maintaining a reputation isn't worth your life?"

"Ah, I said that?"

Kaoru smiled.



A/N: Your feedback is important. Please consider leaving notes of your thoughts, reactions, suggestions. They are very valuable to improving these stories. ~A

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