Get Your Leg Off Me
folder
+S to Z › Samurai Champloo
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
6,122
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S to Z › Samurai Champloo
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
6,122
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.
A Five-year-old Girl Could Drink More Than You
Author\'s Note: Based on the prompt "One Wild Night" at the LJ Comm Citrus-Taste.
A Five-year-old Girl Could Drink More Than You
"You can\'t hold your liquor," spit Mugen, smirking drunkenly and pointing a finger into Jin\'s face. They slumped, side by side, the table before them strewn with bowls, platters, and a dozen sake jars—all but one empty now.
Fuu excused herself, not because she couldn\'t keep up with Mugen\'s drinking challenge after their expansive if somewhat bland meal but because she had to relieve herself. As she rose on shaky legs and stumbled out to the back, Jin raised his eyes. He blinked at Fuu\'s wobbly pink-clad form, then shut his eyes again with a groan.
Mugen grumbled as he knocked back another cup of cheap sake then slammed his cup down on the table and elbowed Jin hard. They were alone in the little establishment, and Mugen had dumped ample coin on the table to ensure they\'d not be bothered by the proprietors once their feast arrived. They\'d been lucky that day, having encountered an inept but wealthy challenger who\'d sought to rob Jin of his swords through posturing and claims of grandeur that turned out to be less than empty threats. The fool had ended up happy to escape with his life, dressed only in his fundoshi but his head still on his shoulders. His costly garments were then easily pawned for the night\'s excesses.
"A five-year-old girl could drink more than you," Mugen snorted, bored and sick of Jin\'s lack of response to his taunting.
Jin\'s drooping head popped up again, his glasses low on his nose and his eyes heavy-lidded. His hand shifted to his hip, where he easily found the hilt of his sword—much more easily than he could unfold his legs and rise. Toppling backwards, seemingly in slow motion, his antics brought forth a hearty guffaw from his companion. So hearty, in fact, that Mugen soon also found himself sprawled on the dirty floor, his forehead knocking into Jin\'s.
The owner, who had peeked out from behind a curtained flap to the kitchen, ducked his head back inside as the two began to scuffle. There wasn\'t much they could ruin, he thought with a shrug, and once they passed out he\'d simply take the rest of their coin and toss them into the deserted street of the sleepy town. The girl was already nearly unconscious in the outhouse.
Mugen\'s arms flailing and Jin struggling to get the hell out of reach, the pair cursed blue streaks at each other. Mugen slandered Jin\'s lame expletives and girly fingernails, while Jin roundly declaimed Mugen\'s filthy hair, grotesque manners, and ungodly body odor. Then, as is so often the case, words became deeds, and Mugen was pulling Jin\'s hair while Jin was ineffectually laboring to land kicks to Mugen\'s groin.
How, exactly, this desperate brawl became deep, grunting kisses with blind groping (from Mugen) and dry humping (for Jin) must be left one of the mysteries of the universe.
Suffice it to say, the worst of times are always the best of times when looked upon from another angle, and the angle from which Fuu observed the floundering clench after emptying her bladder (and, with some suddenness, her stomach) left her unable to decide whether she looked upon reality or fantasy, happy dream or freakish nightmare.
A Five-year-old Girl Could Drink More Than You
"You can\'t hold your liquor," spit Mugen, smirking drunkenly and pointing a finger into Jin\'s face. They slumped, side by side, the table before them strewn with bowls, platters, and a dozen sake jars—all but one empty now.
Fuu excused herself, not because she couldn\'t keep up with Mugen\'s drinking challenge after their expansive if somewhat bland meal but because she had to relieve herself. As she rose on shaky legs and stumbled out to the back, Jin raised his eyes. He blinked at Fuu\'s wobbly pink-clad form, then shut his eyes again with a groan.
Mugen grumbled as he knocked back another cup of cheap sake then slammed his cup down on the table and elbowed Jin hard. They were alone in the little establishment, and Mugen had dumped ample coin on the table to ensure they\'d not be bothered by the proprietors once their feast arrived. They\'d been lucky that day, having encountered an inept but wealthy challenger who\'d sought to rob Jin of his swords through posturing and claims of grandeur that turned out to be less than empty threats. The fool had ended up happy to escape with his life, dressed only in his fundoshi but his head still on his shoulders. His costly garments were then easily pawned for the night\'s excesses.
"A five-year-old girl could drink more than you," Mugen snorted, bored and sick of Jin\'s lack of response to his taunting.
Jin\'s drooping head popped up again, his glasses low on his nose and his eyes heavy-lidded. His hand shifted to his hip, where he easily found the hilt of his sword—much more easily than he could unfold his legs and rise. Toppling backwards, seemingly in slow motion, his antics brought forth a hearty guffaw from his companion. So hearty, in fact, that Mugen soon also found himself sprawled on the dirty floor, his forehead knocking into Jin\'s.
The owner, who had peeked out from behind a curtained flap to the kitchen, ducked his head back inside as the two began to scuffle. There wasn\'t much they could ruin, he thought with a shrug, and once they passed out he\'d simply take the rest of their coin and toss them into the deserted street of the sleepy town. The girl was already nearly unconscious in the outhouse.
Mugen\'s arms flailing and Jin struggling to get the hell out of reach, the pair cursed blue streaks at each other. Mugen slandered Jin\'s lame expletives and girly fingernails, while Jin roundly declaimed Mugen\'s filthy hair, grotesque manners, and ungodly body odor. Then, as is so often the case, words became deeds, and Mugen was pulling Jin\'s hair while Jin was ineffectually laboring to land kicks to Mugen\'s groin.
How, exactly, this desperate brawl became deep, grunting kisses with blind groping (from Mugen) and dry humping (for Jin) must be left one of the mysteries of the universe.
Suffice it to say, the worst of times are always the best of times when looked upon from another angle, and the angle from which Fuu observed the floundering clench after emptying her bladder (and, with some suddenness, her stomach) left her unable to decide whether she looked upon reality or fantasy, happy dream or freakish nightmare.