Get Your Leg Off Me
folder
+S to Z › Samurai Champloo
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
6,144
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S to Z › Samurai Champloo
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
6,144
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Don't own SAMURAI CHAMPLOO OR ITS CHARACTERS; don't make money from WRITING FANFIC ABOUT IT.
You Feel So Damn Good
Author's Note: Jin is content to be a Mugen/Fuu voyeur. Written for citrus_taste's "Silken Threads of Fate" prompt.
You Feel So Damn Good
Spindly and spiderlike but strong and graceful in his way, Mugen silently slinks over to Fuu's prone body when they're both certain I'm asleep. I've become quite adept at feigning slumber, slowing and evening my breath in a practice gleaned from years of meditative practice and a predilection to voyeurism.
He shrugs smoothly out of his tunic and those strange short hakama as he crawls. Fuu's eyes flicker open at the sight of him nearing. She pulls away the rough blanket and fumbles with her obi to at last uncover her pale flesh, her plump breasts that Mugen wishes could fill his palms but are never complained of in the dark of their furtive embrace.
It would surprise Fuu to learn that Mugen does not give away their secrets, does not brag about how he has made Fuu his lover, claimed her virginity, and offers up whispered words of affection no one would imagine he had within him. "You feel so damn good." No, not expressions of love that naïve Fuu might prefer, but words earnest and warm. Fuu holds a small, hidden piece of Mugen, and it seems he dare not speak its name. In daylight, he may tease and scoff, but he thinks me ignorant of their shared pleasures, and my own pleasures are well satisfied in the silence between us.
Fuu, still so much more child than woman to my eye, is less tight-lipped than Mugen, though she keeps their secret from me, too. There was a time when her girlish attentions were focused upon me. If only she knew that my apparent rejection was merely a lack of words for the strange shape of my desires. I have taken both women and men to bed and will, no doubt, in future. But the imposition of touch is often more than I can bear, and bearing witness to the entangling of bodies and spirits of others, especially the opposite yet attracting forces of Mugen and Fuu, satisfies me far more readily.
As the angular Mugen climbs over Fuu's soft form under the moon's generous glow, I am privileged to watch and to know the greater truth of intimacy.
We are bound together, the three of us, sewn by fate's silken threads into a unique and precious design composed of need and balance and perfect proximity.
Spindly and spiderlike but strong and graceful in his way, Mugen silently slinks over to Fuu's prone body when they're both certain I'm asleep. I've become quite adept at feigning slumber, slowing and evening my breath in a practice gleaned from years of meditative practice and a predilection to voyeurism.
He shrugs smoothly out of his tunic and those strange short hakama as he crawls. Fuu's eyes flicker open at the sight of him nearing. She pulls away the rough blanket and fumbles with her obi to at last uncover her pale flesh, her plump breasts that Mugen wishes could fill his palms but are never complained of in the dark of their furtive embrace.
It would surprise Fuu to learn that Mugen does not give away their secrets, does not brag about how he has made Fuu his lover, claimed her virginity, and offers up whispered words of affection no one would imagine he had within him. "You feel so damn good." No, not expressions of love that naïve Fuu might prefer, but words earnest and warm. Fuu holds a small, hidden piece of Mugen, and it seems he dare not speak its name. In daylight, he may tease and scoff, but he thinks me ignorant of their shared pleasures, and my own pleasures are well satisfied in the silence between us.
Fuu, still so much more child than woman to my eye, is less tight-lipped than Mugen, though she keeps their secret from me, too. There was a time when her girlish attentions were focused upon me. If only she knew that my apparent rejection was merely a lack of words for the strange shape of my desires. I have taken both women and men to bed and will, no doubt, in future. But the imposition of touch is often more than I can bear, and bearing witness to the entangling of bodies and spirits of others, especially the opposite yet attracting forces of Mugen and Fuu, satisfies me far more readily.
As the angular Mugen climbs over Fuu's soft form under the moon's generous glow, I am privileged to watch and to know the greater truth of intimacy.
We are bound together, the three of us, sewn by fate's silken threads into a unique and precious design composed of need and balance and perfect proximity.