Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Someone Who Understands ❯ Someone Who Understands ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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.