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Andante	By : wickedpistil Category: +S to Z > Samurai Champloo Views: 4450 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Andante
- 1
"Teach me," Fuu says and Sara smiles, her empty eyes lowering under creased brows.

"Impossible," she says.

Fuu looks at the ground and stretches her legs out in front of her. "Why not?"

Leaves rustle around them and Sara's head tilts at the sound. "Because you haven't suffered."

***

Jin watches Mugen roll his eyes in the firelight.

"We're the ones that've suffered," he mumbles, lowering himself to sit across from Jin.

Jin is silent, his eyes following the fluttering vibrato of flames in the pit in the center of the hut. It isn't right that they are listening to the women talking outside, but sound carries so far in the quiet night and, when you've traveled together for months, there isn't much that is private anymore, anyway.

"We're the ones that have to listen to her whining and crying and eating. Have you heard her eat?"

Jin remains silent, watching Mugen take a swig of the alcohol he'd stolen from some kids he'd beaten up behind the tofu shop. It smells inviting and Jin allows himself to reach out for it in the dim. It tastes better than it should.

"We're the ones that aren't eating and we sleep out in the rain and we're always fighting for her-"

Jin raises his eyebrows at the man in front of him.

"Okay," Mugen mutters, "maybe that part's okay. But you know what I mean."

Jin ignores it as Mugen slides next to him and leans back against the wall. He passes the jug back to his companion.

Jin can't see him anymore but as a vague shadow in his periphery but, as always, he is aware of Mugen's presence. And when Mugen's fingers move to tangle in his ponytail, Jin is hardly surprised.

It is an old ritual by now, comfortable and practiced. With Fuu outside, Mugen's tongue finds the soft spot behind Jin's ear and laps.

Jin shivers as goosebumps rise in a wave up his neck. It is almost gentle, almost tender, but Mugen has never been tender and he nips at the sensitive flesh of Jin's earlobe.

***

"Of course I have," Fuu says in a soft voice, her eyes skirting over Sara's lovely features.

Something bordering on ugly pulls at Sara's lips as she turns her face away. "Not enough."

Fuu's eyes widen and she leans back. "My mother," she whispered, "and my home..."

Sara runs her fingers over the strings of her instrument, a soft humming noise rising up from its vibrations.

"And now, I'm searching..."

Sara moves a hand onto Fuu's knee. "You don't act like you've suffered."

***

Mugen's tongue is sliding hot and wet down Jin's torso when the chords strike into the air and they freeze. They meet eyes for the briefest of uncomfortable moments, then Mugen's tongue goes back to work.

Fingers meet tension again and a sad, lovely wail springs forth and Jin's hair stands on end. He feels cold. But Mugen's hands move to cover as much of his exposed flesh as they can before descending to free his body of too many clothes. Jin feels Mugen pause, though, when another chord is released, wavering, wailing, and Mugen's tongue moves in time with the sparse rhythm forming itself behind the walls, beyond their sight.

Jin rolls his head back on his shoulders, letting the tension slide out. He pauses when he hears Fuu's voice again.

Mugen does, too, and Jin doesn't hesitate to hold his eyes this time.

"What happens if Fuu sees you like this?"

Mugen rolls his eyes, pushes indigo from Jin's shoulders. "Doesn't matter to me."

Jin shrugs, helping Mugen free his body of the cloth and scratches his fingers through his companion's hair. "Of course it doesn't."

Mugen nips at Jin's hipbone. "It doesn't. Too fucking young."

"Ah," Jin says, amusement licking the edges of his voice, "you have some morals suddenly?"

Mugen scoffs. "I can't take her seriously."

Jin frowns. "She's not as immature as you think."

Mugen raises his eyebrows at the samurai. "And how do you know this?"

Jin would have answered with something cold and clever, but Sara's voice lights into the night, mournful fire and they sit chilled for a moment. Jin lets his eyes slide shut.

"Anyway," Mugen continues, "I don't need someone I got to look after."

"Mm."

"Yeah. Someone like Sara would be all right," Mugen says, sliding between Jin's legs, slipping one of the samurai's knees over his shoulder, "she can handle herself."

"Mugen, she's blind."

"Exactly."

***

"If you had really suffered, it would be apparent."

Fuu knits her eyebrows, fighting back anger, her lip quivering. "Do you think it's been easy?"

Sara laughs. "Of course it has. You have them, don't you?"

Fuu chews on her lip. "Yes. I do."

"Then, how much can you be suffering? Two strong men following you around."

***

Jin sighs as Mugen's tongue slides up his length, feeling warm and familiar and good. He feels Mugen's head move under his hand as it bobs and weaves, pulling Jin closer to that implosion that will leave him limp and sleepy.

There is a rhythm in Mugen's movements that was absent from their usual frantic, careless, hurry-and-get-off-before-Fuu-comes-back-from-her-bath coupling and Jin's hips lift off the floor to meet Mugen's sliding mouth. The heavy, beckoning feeling curls itself in Jin's guts.

Mugen tears his mouth away, abrupt, one of his favorite seduction techniques, and presses Jin's knees back onto the samurai's chest. He licks down the back of one thigh, then the other, down his length, down his sac, ending at his entrance and Jin whimpers out as another pulse of strings floats in on the wind.

Mugen's tongue slithers, prods, then leaves just as Jin is ready to push back on it and is replaced by two dark, calloused fingers. The movements, the steps are all the same as usual, but there is a different...dare he say, "grace?" ... to the way Mugen presses into him, adagio, rubs himself against Jin's leg.

Mugen pulls his hand away, lifts Jin's hips onto his lap, and readies to slide into him.

***

"I've suffered," Fuu says, "I've worked hard and we've come so far. I will find the man I'm looking for."

Sara shakes her head and rests back against the hut. "Why are you so upset?"

Fuu balls her fists and squints against tears and the soft, baritone moans coming from inside the hut. "Because..."

Sara chuckles, plucks at strings another time.

"Because," Fuu says, "because you make it sound like I'm a spoiled little girl who has had everything handed to her! I may have suffered and I may have lost, but I'm not dead! Those 'strong men' remind me of that every day and that is why I act like I haven't suffered! Because things will get better!"

Sara pulls her lips down and sighs.

"So teach me," Fuu says, on her knees in front of Sara, fists pressed to the ground, eyes determined and hard.

***

Mugen shifts forward, pressing against Jin's body, forcing the samurai's weight to rest on his shoulders as they make firm contact with the floor. Jin's palms cover his eyes, his glasses long abandoned to some corner of the hut.

Their cadence is slow and mournful, and Jin isn't sure if he likes it and wants it to continue until he explodes, or if he hates it and wants to roll Mugen onto the ground and show him how to fucking move. But he lets Mugen go with it, lets him follow that inescapable, aching sound of melody coming from outside. He lets Mugen move into him, pressing on his knees, sweat dripping from the ends of his unruly hair, falling onto Jin's abdomen, lets Mugen picture Sara.

He lets him because it's good like this. They are moving and Jin knows he's going to burst soon.

But it's not soon enough. The strings outside take up a quicker rhythm and Mugen moves in time until his hips jerk forward one last time and he calls out, his voice climbing octaves, his back arching forward, pushing Jin's shoulders even more firmly into the floor, his nails digging into Jin's sides, and his teeth bared. When his head flies back, sweat floats suspended and slow from his hair, glittering in the firelight and Jin has to close his eyes, the sight of his companion sending him over the edge.

Mugen collapses over him, letting his breath fall damp on Jin's ear in gasping wheezes.

"See?"

"Mm?"

"See," Mugen says, "did you hear it? You can't play music like that if you're a wimp."

"Mm."

Mugen laughs, but it sounds more like a breathy, harsh exhalation. "Don't tell me you don't want Sara like this."

***

Fuu smiles gently as Sara nods in approval.

"Thank you," she says in a soft, meek voice and returns the instrument back into the hands of the blind woman.

"Come to bed," Fuu whispers, "they're done now."

Fuu shakes her head and rises, brushing dirt from her kimono.

Sara smiles and takes Fuu's extended hand. "Did you like it?"

Fuu smiles. "No."

"No?"

"No. I'm not sad. I'm tired, but I'm not sad."

"Those men are lucky to have you around."

Fuu smiles. "I know."

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Andante