Gintama Fan Fiction ❯ salarymen go to heaven ❯ part 12 ( Chapter 12 )

I don't own Gintama but I have recently acquired the Holy Grail. Willing to trade.

 

 

* * Part Twelve: Which Ceases to be Even Remotely Work-Safe * *

 

 

Just like when he pushed his rice in front of her, she felt the intense joy of finding the pearl of his kindness. She rolled on her hip and, after a moment of hesitation, straddled his stomach. He looked at her smiling face with confusion and annoyance. It was actually quite a thrill, watching his usually placid expression change through so many emotions one after the other. “You worried about me? I'm touched, SOUGO,” she said making her voice teasing the way it is when they habitually piss each other off into a fight. “Or could you only do it while they were listening? Hm? You want me to recall the Mayo-man and Gorilla?”

 

“…that's blasphemy, China,” Okita growled.

 

Every breath he took rubbed against the centre of her excitement. She wanted more of it. It felt so good when he couldn't control his voice, when he breathed into her neck. She wanted him to do that again, to make her feel wanted like that again.

 

Kagura bent down to his ear and whispered, “I wanna do it.”

 

“… `it', China?”

 

“You know!”

 

Okita sighed. “It's not like on TV, it hurts when you do it the first time.”

”Wow, you really are worried about me. Sougo,” she giggled.

 

He pushed her off and sat up. “I'm more worried about what you'd do to me if you don't like it.”

 

Kagura moved to sit a bit closer. “Well, I'd just break your knees like I usually would,” she said and kissed him briefly.

 

Okita didn't respond. Instead, he looked on, seriously, making Kagura feel like a child. She didn't appreciate being patronised and would have started yelling at him in a moment, if he hadn't spoken first. “Give me your hand, China.”

 

His fingers closed around her wrist like iron and she watched in horror as he brought her hand down between his legs. Kagura wanted to scream in embarrassment and pound him through the floor, or at least pull her hand back and disinfect it, but she managed only a whelp and a twitch.

 

“Feel that?” said Okita, looking at her flushed, red face. “That's about half way there.”

 

Beneath the rough, loose fabric of his dojo pants, Kagura felt something that wasn't hard yet, but somehow thick and heavy, pushing against her palm; like a shapeless mass that could amount to powerful inertia if it was ever to be moved.

 

“In a moment or so,” spoke Okita, “I'll stop caring about my knees. You get my point, China?”

 

Kagura nodded her head yes, but couldn't keep her wide eyes off her hand, clutched in Okita's and pressed against his crotch.

 

“It means that if you wanna chicken out, you have to do it now, because later I'm probably not gonna wanna stop,” he explained patiently.

 

Finding something to hold on to, Kagura pulled her hand back violently and slammed it on his thigh in heated vengeance. “I will NOT chicken out!”

 

Realising he has but to call her bluff to win, Okita let his head fall in soft chuckles. “You are so easy, China,” he said and moved into her, catching her lips and working her body beneath his own.

 

Kagura flipped arms around his neck and pulled herself up to meet every breath that rocked his chest. Okita wondered why kissing her felt so good. There were other women, for god sake, who've had more experience and more practice. Kagura couldn't surprise him, could she? He taught her every trick she knew. But she was just so honest about it. And he had to admit he learned to like her body, seeing all the power it could harvest. He liked it when it twisted his shoulder roughly and he liked it just as much when it surrendered to his palms, and he liked it now, when he could get to know it even better.

 

One of his hands came up to unbutton the top of her red dress (she really didn't bother dressing up; Okita had to love the insolence) but paused, confused by the strange obstacles set there. Kagura giggled and sat up.

 

“They're not buttons,” said Okita, rather stupidly staring at her worming out of her clothes.

 

“Hooks,” she said and pulled the whole thing off in a manner that wasn't the least bit sexy. Just a girl taking her clothes off before gym class. Okita dropped his head into his hand and laughed.

 

“Man, China, you have no refinement. And you don't wear bras,” which was something he knew already. There was no way anyone could miss the underlying edge of underwear had there been any, not after groping as much as they did.

 

Kagura pressed the inside-out dress to her chest in anger an embarrassment. “Shut up! Now you take something off! It's not fair if only I'm naked, right?”

 

“You might want to lower your voice or the booze platoon will come back,” said Okita flatly. “If they walk in this time, neither of us will ever hear the end of it.”

 

“Whatever,” hissed Kagura, but did indeed lower her voice. “You take something off.”

 

Okita was briefly tempted to kick off a sock, but decided to play it fair and pulled out his shirt, sliding it off slowly. He enjoyed for a moment Kagura's open mouth while she eyed him, slightly surprised, even after everything, that she could show actual sexual appreciation of a male body.

 

Slowly, Kagura let her dress fall down, around her thighs. She was still uncertain where she should put her hands, so they ended up hovering around her chest, trying to hide it behind the fingers, but still not be too obviously insecure and just press against her small breasts.

 

Okita smirked and pulled himself closer, sitting on his knees in front of her. He reached for her wrists to spread them gently for the second time that evening. With a snort, he commented: “I remember those sake cups being small, but not this small.”

 

Kagura's palms flew back to comfort her breasts, keeping his greedy, disdainful eyes away from them.

 

“What?” mocked Okita. “Don't tell me I hurt your feelings, China?”

 

“You could say something nice, you bitch,” mumbled Kagura, staring at the edge of the table to her right.

 

Okita slid in to kiss her neck gently, then her collar bone, going lower only to kiss the fingers that covered the rest. “Can you keep a secret, China?” he asked between kisses. “I don't like big breasts anyways. I mean, how would you move with those? I'd kick your ass in seconds.”

 

Kagura snorted, while a cosy warmth filled her lungs. “Tits the size of basketballs or not, I'd still win. Take the pants off, too,” she added after a moment.

 

“How is that fair?” demanded Okita, still kissing her breasts, working his tongue between the fingers she'd part for him slightly.

 

“It doesn't have to be fair, does it have to be fair?” she breathed when his teeth found her nipple. “And I'm cold, SOUGO. Where's your bed, SOUGO, the floor is rough.”

 

Okita inhaled a long breath and looked up at her smirking face in exasperation. “God, you are so annoying.”

 

Kagura smiled innocently at him and simply repeated: “The bed, SOUGO, bring out the bed.”

 

Okita sighed and got up, inwardly congratulating her. One point for the China girl. He was hard enough to make moving awkward if not painful, and even if she hadn't planned it to be like that, and she really just wanted a soft surface on which she could lose her virginity, it was still masterful.

 

Pulling out the mat and some random covers he stuffed into the closet this morning, he saw Kagura's smile and it was edgy and cruel. Ah, truly. Masterful.

 

He spread the mat, threw in a couple of pillows and went to stretch the quilt (brushing it accidentally against his crotch and biting down on a whelp - China would find it too amusing), when Kagura walked up to him. Their half naked bodies met in the cold air and Okita enjoyed immensely the feel of tough, small nipples scratching against his skin. Their tongues exchanged caresses, his arms went to circle her tiny waist and one of her hands stole up into his hair; the other one, to Okita's slight panic, came to rest against his erection.

 

“That is so cool,” said Kagura as though watching a documentary about sea turtles laying eggs on long, sandy beaches.

 

Okita snorted then had to catch a quick breath when Kagura's palm jerked lightly up. He could feel the rush of air when Kagura smirked against his shoulder, but couldn't hear anything except the blood in his ears. She tried it again, this time with a bit more self confidence and Okita thought how wrong he was. She could still surprise him after all.

 

He gripped her small buttocks clad in black tights roughly and found another surprise. “You don't wear any panties either. Didn't they invent underwear on your planet, China?”

 

“They bother me when I run,” she said as if it was the most common and understandable thing in the world.

 

She managed to find the knot that kept his hakama around his waist and worked it open after some tugging that made Okita snicker. “Shut up, you couldn't even take my dress off!” she hissed in retaliation.

 

At this point everything started happening faster. Okita pushed both of them down on the bed with one pillow he had thrown on it ending up between Kagura's shoulder blades uncomfortably. She couldn't have cared less, completely enthralled with the awkward, flattering hardness clad in silk underwear she could feel against her thigh. Okita pulled her waist up, getting her to throw her head back and expose her throat. He kissed every inch of her, finally parting with her neck and torso and descending to her bellybutton.

 

“Um-“ she said in insecurity as he hooked two thumbs around the black tights and made to pull them down, over her narrow hips.

 

“There something you want to tell me about your alien morphology, China?” he chuckled.

 

“What? NO!”

 

“Then don't worry, there shouldn't be anything there that I haven't seen before.” He bent down again to lick the skin he uncovered, like a wet afterimage.

 

Kagura couldn't move at all, she could only stare at his half-open eyes that followed her hip bone, her bare thighs, the small mound of reddish hair between her legs. The whole scene seemed so impossibly erotic the only thing that told her this was still happening to her and not some actress on TV was the feel of his scratchy fingers and his tongue, making complicated figures on her skin.

 

Okita pushed his hands beneath her hips and slid the black pants off completely. As her legs settled down on either side of him in slow motion, he sat up to soak in the view. Kagura was still red in the face, breathing deep, settling breaths and biting the joint of her index finger in insecurity. Her hands were shaking slightly, ready to jump up to her body and cover it at the smallest provocation. She was long and sinewy, boyish really, if not for the obviously female part of her that she tried to cover up by pulling her knees together. He smirked at her attempts. They weren't really working, just making her even more… hm, desirable, decided his brain euphemistically.

 

“What are you staring at?” she asked in that sharp, high voice that meant she would rather be angry than insecure. “You take your clothes off too, it's not fair!”

 

“Didn't you say it doesn't have to be fair?”

 

“It has to be fair for me!”

 

Okita giggled and made a show of taking his boxers off. Kagura gaped for a second, unsure what she should say or think, and able only to wonder where the hell was she supposed to stick that.

 

“…and your socks too! They just look ridiculous!” , she added as an afterthought in an even higher voice.

 

Okita laughed outright but still did as she asked, faintly aware that no man could look cool while on his ass, peeling off socks, completely erect. It was so ridiculous he had to laugh at himself as well.

 

“The fuck is so funny?” she asked and sat up to him, annoyance momentarily overriding her insecurity.

 

“We are, China,” whispered Okita into her lips. “Finding humour in all situations, is it bad?”

 

“Yes, when you're naked with a woman who is torn between-“

 

“Her blossoming womanhood and her love of her chastity, is that it?”

 

“…I didn't think you ever listened to me,” she said in a much smaller, softer voice.

 

“Don't let it go to your head, Kagura,” he said and drowned her flattered smile with his lips. He really didn't need her getting all up about herself - that would just be wrong, misguiding. And he didn't need himself feeling happy about her soft satisfaction when he'd said her name.

 

So he pushed her down and concentrated on the warm wetness that stuck to his hip bone every time he ground higher up her body to kiss or suck on her skin. He was so hard it hurt, now it really did hurt, and Okita Sougo found himself falling back on reserves of patience he didn't even know he had. His left hand stroked Kagura's hair that was falling out of the telephone buns on top of her head. His right one slid between two halves of her wet organ and found what they were looking for.

 

Kagura arched beneath him with a muffled scream much like the ones she had faked not fifteen minutes earlier. She didn't care he was smirking victoriously above her, it felt good. For a second or so she wondered how many woman he had before, which one of them taught him this trick but then he pulled two fingers lower, and she stopped caring. It was an odd, intrusive feeling, having just fingertips sliding slowly inside and out, but the moment she became used to it, they penetrated deeper and she felt a short, sharp pain.

 

Okita pulled his fingers out and the pain disappeared but when he removed his hand, to her horror, Kagura could see glistening red on it. Okita seemed perfectly distracted by the blood, his eyes red to match. Forgetting for a moment she was there at all, he brought the bloody fingers to his mouth and licked them.

 

Kagura gasped and Okita snapped his eyes back to her. He seemed frightened, confused, and for a second it was as though he would actually apologise.

 

“Um,” he said. “…it, um-“

 

Kagura decided that was close enough and caught his hand, licking it experimentally. It was a different kind of blood than she had ever tasted and she had tasted a lot.

 

Okita plunged in on her mouth and kissed her savagely, not believing she just did that, not believing she let him do it in the first place.

 

“Ok, this might hurt a bit,” he whispered into her hair and pulled the pillow still stuck underneath her, lower, where it rose her hips to meet with his pelvis. “You won't be able to pound my knees in, so for the moment just be happy with biting, ok?”

 

She nodded stupidly because he couldn't really see her. His chin was positioned gently on her shoulder, one hand holding her head up, and the tender flesh where his neck met his shoulder twisted in front of her mouth as if offering itself.

 

Kagura set her rather badly shaking hands on his warm back and pressed her cheek against his. “Wait,” she whispered. Strangely enough, he did, freezing in this awkward position until her next command. “How much is it going to hurt? Like before?”

 

“Fuck should I know, China? I'm not a girl,” he said, managing to sound disdainful even though his breathing was harsh and fast.

 

“…I don't care how many women you slept with, you have no idea how to treat a lady,” she snorted, hearing her own hoarse voice.

 

Okita chuckled and waited for another breath. “You ok, China?”

 

She nodded, remembering how silly that had proved to be and thinking she should, perhaps, voice it out, but evidently he got the green light he was waiting for and started sliding his hips forward.

 

It hurt. It felt wrong, like having--- she couldn't think of a single thing similar to it and so her teeth came down roughly on Okita's offered shoulder. But every time she thought she couldn't take it any longer, that surely if he kept going she would bleed out or split apart and that she would bite a hole through his flesh, he pulled back a bit, giving her time to start breathing again. And then all over until, finally, he didn't need to stop entering and she felt the warm wall of the rest of his body against her stomach.

 

She clicked her jaws open after a moment, realising there was a dark purple trace where her teeth bit into the muscle. Okita let out a breath of relief.

 

“I said `bite', China, not `bite off'!” he hissed.

 

“…it hurts. You said I could!” she protested, still not letting go of his back.

 

“I always knew you were a sadist,” laughed Okita and disentangled himself from her grip to look at her face, propped up on both arms. He slid out a bit, pushing right back in one slow motion and tilting his hips up toward the end of it. Kagura felt something else tingle inside her apart from the pain. She thought she might have imagined it, when Okita did it again and the feeling was back, faint but definitely there.

 

“Better?” he said, too cocky for his own good.

 

Kagura racked her mind for a comeback but couldn't find any. “…better,” she conceded grudgingly.

 

“Yeah, don't be afraid to tell me I'm good,” whispered Okita, supremely amused.

 

“Shut up,” said Kagura. “I said it was better than the pain, right? That's not much of an achievement, right?”

 

Okita pushed back in, still slow, still gentle, but this time the feeling was stronger and the pain fainter. Kagura gasped and he eyed her with a smirk. He bent to kiss her hungrily and slid the hand he didn't use to support himself down her side and back to the place it touched before, when she had moaned.

 

It had much the same effect now as it did then, but combined with a soft jerk of his hips, it felt fuller, closer to the pleasure she saw on TV.

 

Beside her ear, Okita breathed with her, pulling his mouth gently down her neck, to her breasts and back to her lips. There was no more pain, maybe just a slight feeling of being stretched, and Kagura felt she could move again. So the first thing she did was lift her hips to meet him when he thrust in.

 

Okita hissed. “Don't move!”

 

Kagura quirked her head. “Why not? I'm not supposed to move?”

 

“No, no, you ARE supposed to move but-“

 

She did it again, experimentally, just because he told her not to, and Okita gasped for air again.

 

“But what?” she breathed, trying to pass it off as snickering.

 

“You're just so-“ Okita started to say but gave it up when she jerked up against him. Man, he was wrong. She could definitely surprise him. Maybe this was not such a good idea. Working her with his fingers or not, he was still far closer to burning out than she was. So Okita did what any man with self respect would, and pulled out, clambering to his knees despite her protests.

 

Those were soon drowned in gasps and fast breathing when his tongue found her arousal. Kagura decided that, even though looking at the brown head moving between her legs made it even better, she couldn't keep her eyes open or her head up. She gave in, feeling the gentle fingers inside herself and the fast tongue above them.

 

“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” she finally managed to voice the constant plea in her head. “Stop it!” A high pitched scream rang across the room and Kagura shut her eyes tightly.

 

He did stop, looking at her victoriously. She breathed hard, eyebrows knotted together and both her hands fighting to get into her mouth where she could clamp down on them. Incredible warmth pulsated in synch with her heartbeats and after a moment of savouring it, in which Okita just looked on at her ravenously, she managed to find her voice again. “That's it, I don't like lying down, we are changing!” she yelled as if that would fix everything.

 

Okita just laughed at her, “Having troubles, China?”

 

Her teeth glistened in a snarl and she pushed herself up to him, feeling all her insides rearrange themselves oddly as if they were made of liquid. Her limbs felt weak and somehow too long for her body; she couldn't feel the tips of them, her fingers, her toes, as if the soul that usually inhabited them retracted slightly to her middle. But she still managed to command enough strength to grab Okita by his mocking shoulders and push him down on the bed.

 

She flung her leg over him perilously, knocking over the lamp, forgotten as an innocent bystander. The switch clicked off and the only light remaining was the silver gleam of the TV where a game show featured tiny people carrying enormous watermelons.

 

Kagura pulled her hips up and manoeuvred Okita inside again. All this lasted seconds, but still long enough for him to protest, to react. He didn't find in himself the power to do so.

 

His mind was divided unequally into a smaller part that screamed in indignation at being man-handled by a woman, while the quiet constant could think of nothing but getting inside of her again, could see nothing but her lust-filled eyes and half-opened mouth.

 

She came down on him forcefully, wincing predictably when the stretching hurt reached her consciousness, but then she moved her hips forward and Okita remembered why this was a bad idea in the first place. He grabbed her bony hips and fixed them there. “I said don't move!”

 

She smirked again, but didn't move. Instead, with enormous mischief, she squeezed the muscles he didn't think she knew she had until tonight. He gasped and his grip slackened unwillingly.

 

“You are so easy to please, SOUGO,” she said, wildly arrogant, and he gave up, letting her do as she willed, concentrating on pleasuring her while she moved her hips violently.

 

“…get off your knees, put your feet on either side,” he breathed instructions. She did as he asked, feeling right away why what he said was a good idea. In the meanwhile, Okita felt stupid for always thinking she would just lay still and take it, not trying to make this, as everything else, into a competition. He never pictured her on top, which, in retrospect, was a rather moronic thing to do.

 

After a while, Kagura felt she could no longer support her own weight and the only thing keeping her in place, what is more, keeping her still moving rhythmically back and forth, were Okita's hands that came to clasp her buttocks and her own instinct.

 

Blossoming womanhood, indeed.

 

She fell on his chest, every movement now directly rubbing against all the hard parts of their bodies. Kagura opened her mouth against his, unable to kiss him in fear of trading even a bit of pleasure for the effort that it took. Okita seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

 

The last coherent thing she could hear was him saying those words again, “You are so-“ and that was it. She closed her eyes next to his neck and screamed something stupid beginning with S.

 

 

* *

 

 

Um, about the blood… Sorry. It's just my thing. Pretend it didn't happen if it freaks you out too much. I have had enough people telling me I should give up my obsession with bodily fluids. I swear, any day now it's all gonna turn to scat and that will just be self defeating.