Someone Who Understands | By : Solaras Category: Rurouni Kenshin > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5061 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: Rurouni
Kenshin is not mine. I repeat I do not
own it or any affiliates. I just really
like the story and am expressing that through this story.
Author’s Notes: This
idea came to me late at night and wouldn’t go away. So instead of sleeping like I needed to be
doing, as I have to get up early for work, I wrote this. Warning this does involve a lemon!!!! Also warning this is my first real lemon. I’ve done some citrus stuff, but never the
whole lemon peal and all. Its practice
for future works lol.
I loved the Rurouni
Kenshin anime. Something just really
pulled me to Kenshin and his rather tragic life. I also enjoyed the interaction between Saitou
and Kenshin. I got to thinking about how
all of Kenshin’s friends aka: Kaoru, Sano, etc
couldn’t really understand what Kenshin went through before meeting them. Sano maybe a little bit, but still he was
really little and his experience isn’t the same as having to kill so many
people. I just got the feeling that
Kenshin was putting on a show of being happy for them a lot of the time. I figure Saitou is the person who, when it
comes down to it, really understands Kenshin.
He may not understand the way Kenshin deals with his past, but he can
understand the reasons behind it. They
share a common past drenched in the blood of a revolution, and that has to have
a binding force.
Someone Who Understands
In the end we were the same
really. The two of us trapped in a time
not our own. We lived by the sword, and
if we could have it our way, we would die by the sword. No, to be honest, our way would have been to
die in battle against each other. An
honorable fight to the death in the streets of Kyoto,
but it was not to be. Through some twist
in fate we both survived those tumultuous years of revolution. Now we are caught in a time when the honor
of the sword is being erased by progress.
The gun has replaced the sword.
Soldiers with rifles have replaced the samurai. We are two relics of an age that has past,
never to return. Is it so surprising
that we would find solace in each other?
When I think about it now, I am no
longer surprised. I always wanted
something from him; one last fight, the fight that should have done us in. Perhaps we shall still have that fight one
day, when we finally give up this farce of living in peace. I like to think that we will die together, our
blood pooling around us, as our swords rest in each other’s bodies. The two of us, who have outlived our time,
will die together by the sword. The last
of the great swordsmen finally at rest and going where ever it is those who
fought with honor go. He would look
beautiful in those final moments: his
crimson hair swirling in blood while the light fades from those tragic eyes.
Himura would be surprised to hear
me say such things. I am not the
romantic or fanciful type, but I suppose death was always an idealistic topic
for a swordsmen. After all what
swordsmen doesn’t want the perfect glory filled death. There was never a greater honor than to die
in battle, and we were denied that.
Himura Kenshin, what a
paradox. All that power in such a small
body. One of the most deadly assassins
of the war, and now he wouldn’t hurt a fly.
So much pain behind those jeweled eyes, and yet he smiles so bright. His mask hides so much from the world, but
not from me. I know too much. I was there after all. I was there to watch as he changed from an
idealistic boy to a jaded man. War does
that to people, and not just Himura. I
saw many young men forced to grow up far quicker that they should have. Children fascinate Himura, and I think it’s
because he never was one. In truth I
probably wasn’t either.
We have much in common when it
comes down to it. For as much as we hate
each other, old grudges die hard, we need each other. We need someone who understands what we went
through, and what it made us. So we
would meet now and then. We would talk
about what that starry-eyed girl Kaoru and the Rooster wouldn’t
understand. Sometimes we would just sit
and drink sake without a word. Sometimes
we just needed the company. How it got
from talking and sitting to more, I still don’t fully understand.
It was late and we had been
drinking in silence. Neither of us were drunk, but not quite sober either. We were alone at the dojo. He sat down his cup and said he was glad we
could get together without fighting. I
looked up into those crystal eyes and saw something I couldn’t help but
recognize. The same unsaid desire as my
own, that it should have been different, that if fate were just we wouldn’t be
here. And that is when it happened.
I reached across the low table and
drew my fingers along the upward line of his scar. His eyes widened but he didn’t pull
away. My hand buried itself in that
fiery hair, something that I unconsciously always wanted to do. I pulled him forward, and he let me. I met him over the table and pressed my lips
to his. There were no sparks or dreamy wonderland
rainbows. It was simple and almost
chaste. I pulled back to look at his
face.
Himura was no skittish virgin or
naïve boy, though he looked it. He had
been married, and he had lived through a bloody war were men took relief where
they found it, sometimes in each other.
In his eyes I saw myself reflected.
That night we found something else in common, the wish for a death
denied.
When I pulled him forward again,
the kiss was anything but chaste. I bit
his bottom lip and as he gasped in pain, I trust my tongue in his hot mouth
tasting sake and blood. Soon he was
fighting back just as hard. His hands
twisted in my hair as he pulled himself up onto the table. Our teeth clashed and we bit and
scratched. It was rough, but there was
no stopping it now. I pulled him over
the table into my lap. His legs
immediately wrapped around my waist, and he wasted no time in pressing down
against me. I could feel him hard
against my stomach, while his ass pressed against my own proof of desire. He rocked his hips and we both groaned. My hands grabbed his hips with bruising force
and pulled him down hard. He threw his
head back with a gasp, and moaned as our clothed erections met. I reached up with one hand and tore that
offending tie from his hair. A few red
strands came away with it, but he didn’t care as I thrust up in rhythm with his
rocking.
I gripped his hair close to the
scalp and pulled his head to the side, while my mouth attacked his slim
neck. That pale column of skin was to
perfect not to mark. My tongue glided
down to the juncture of his neck and shoulder where I bit down hard enough to
draw blood. In response his nails raked
down my back, no doubt tearing holes in my jacket. I sucked on the spot relishing the taste of
him. He tasted of blood soaked nights in
Kyoto when the rain poured
red.
He was the first to start attacking
the clothing. Several of the clasps on
my uniform were casualties of this battle, as his fingers clawed at my
uniform. I released him momentarily to
shed my jacket, and then he immediately pulled the undershirt over my
head. His petite hands ran up my chest
pausing to pinch my nipples roughly. My
own hands cupped his face and brought him up for another chance to pillage that
delicious mouth. With him busy sucking
my tongue down his throat, I took the opportunity to
shed his clothing as well. I undid the
knot of his belt and pushed the cloth from his shoulders, then my hands where
busy lifting him up to pull off his pants.
As he lowered back down, he bypassed my searching mouth to tug at my own
remaining attire. He always did believe
in a fair fight.
We were naked, sweaty, and
panting. I pushed him onto his
back. His head knocked against the
floor, but he didn’t miss a beat in pulling me down with him. I lay on top of him as he grabbed the back of
my head and kissed me hard, his tongue seeking mine. Those slender legs locked around my hips, and
he ground our naked lengths together. I
groaned into his mouth, while I slung one arm up onto the nearby table. My fingers clumsily sought out a non-empty
sake bottle. I knocked over a cup, spilling
liquid on the table and floor, before I grasped my goal. Bottle in hand I broke the kiss with a gasp
for air, and latched onto my mark on his neck briefly before continuing
down. His legs fell open as I moved,
kissing and biting my way along his thin frame.
He moaned when my teeth grazed a dusky nipple. He writhed when my tongue dipped into his
navel, and he practically screamed as I bypassed the juncture of his legs to
suck on a spot just above his knee.
I chuckled at his obvious
frustration, but not long as I wasn’t much better off. I poured the sake out in his lap causing a
shiver to run up his back. I ran my
fingers through the liquid and circled around his arousal. The smaller man pushed his hips upward in a
helpless motion. I gave his length a
quick jerk before heading further down.
I thrust the first finger in quickly, and Himura gasped at the intrusion
and possibly the burn of the alcohol. A
second finger soon followed and then a third.
Three fingers pumped in and out stretching and searching. I knew I found that spot when he arched off
the floor. I pulled my fingers out and
placed both hands on either side of his head.
I hovered over him as I positioned myself.
“Saitou,” he breathed.
That breathy sound brought me to
reality. I looked down at those glazed
purple eyes. He was naked beneath me,
and that glorious red hair was spread across the floor. He was beautiful. How was this slight creature my rival in the
sword? His eyes focused a little in the
pause, and I knew what he was trying to tell me. I leaned down and kissed him hard. It wasn’t gentle. We weren’t the gentle type, not really. The both of us were forged in battle, and
underneath all the facades, we weren’t gentle.
But the kiss lacked the biting and clashing from before. It was my way of saying I understood. It had been a long time for Himura, and as
much as I could hate him sometimes, I wasn’t going to truly hurt him.
I pushed in with one clean
motion. His answering cry was muffled by
my mouth. I stayed still and sucked on
his earlobe, while he panted. His chest
rose and fell in rapid succession as he adjusted to the pain. I rolled his earlobe in between my teeth, and
massaged the piece of flesh with my tongue.
He slowly relaxed and tilted his head to the side giving me better
access.
Taking this as a sign to continue,
I sought his mouth once more and began to move again. I pulled almost all the way out and pushed
back in. After a few slow repeat
movements, Himura started to thrust back.
The pace quickly picked up, as we both needed release. He raised his legs around my hips again and
hooked his ankles behind my back. I felt
myself slide deeper with in the redhead.
A growl formed low in my throat and I dropped my head to his
shoulder. A hard thrust at this angle
hit just right inside him. He arched
against me, while his nails dug into my back.
I continued to hit that spot dead on with every stroke. He moaned and screamed with every
thrust. Those noises went straight to my
groin. I was driving hard and fast into
him now. This couldn’t last much
longer. I hadn’t realized how much I
needed this before now.
Supporting myself with one hand, I
brought the other to stroke his cock in time with our motion, or at least that
was the idea. It was getting to chaotic
to keep pace. I latched my teeth to my
marking on his neck. He was spasming beneath me.
My hand squeezed him roughly and I gave a hard thrust. He tossed his head back and screamed my
name. White fluid splashed against our
stomachs. His walls clamped around me,
and with one more thrust I came inside him, my teeth sinking into the crock of
his neck.
I managed to collapse to the side
and not on Himura, for which I’m sure he was grateful. I dragged him against me with one arm, and we
lay together panting. The ends of his
long hair tickled my nose, but I didn’t have the energy to brush a hand across
my face.
It wasn’t love, and it wasn’t
gentle. It was release. It was need.
We needed someone to understand what we went through, and what it made
us. And when it came down to it, we
weren’t all that different. We had
fought on different sides of a war, in a time that will never come again. Those sides didn’t seem so important
now. In the end some justices were
served and others weren’t. In the end we
were both still here, in a time with no place for us. In the end we both lived by the sword, and if
fate has even a shred of pity for us, we will die by the sword.
End
Well that’s all. I
would greatly appreciate reviews. Like I
said this was my first lemon, so if it sucked I’m sorry. I will try and do better. Grammar probably sucks to, but it was late
and I don’t have an editor for my yaoi work. Again all reviews are greatly appreciated.
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