Never
by the diggler
Warning: This fic contains YAOI or SLASH [male/male homosexual content] and is rated R15.
A/N: er... i can offer no excuses for this fic. i first wrote it around a year ago, and finally decided to finish it and post it instead of letting it rot (like so many other of my fics T_T) ...oh, SPOILERS! takes place after the Kyoto showdown.
Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and related characters are the property of Watsuki Nobuhiro et al.
~
dark and dangerous like a
secret that gets whispered in a hush
when I wake the things I dreamt about you last night make me
blush
when you kiss me like a lover then you sting me like a viper
i go follow to the river play your memory like a piper
-- from 'Ghost' by the Indigo Girls
"Where am I?"
Vaguely he heard a slurred voice echo his question. He peered through the smoky air of the dimly-lit room, trying to find its source.
A few moments later he realized it was actually his own voice, it had just taken a while for his mouth to follow through with the thought in his mind.
He must be drugged or something.
He tried to move, but again his body took a few seconds to respond, and even then it felt like he was trying to move through water. So he decided to stay put for awhile. Trying to focus, he looked around to find out exactly where he was.
Looked like some hooker's room.
Or was he the hooker?
It certainly looked that way, the way he was wantonly sprawled across the futon.
And then he saw how aroused he was.
He tried to think about his situation, but found that his mind was moving just as slowly as his body. It felt like he was trapped in that place between awake and asleep, that place which was a strange combination of dream and reality, comfortable and uncaring.
And then HE was there.
And it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
And he suddenly desperately wanted the man to notice him.
His hand began working its way into his pants, and he touched himself, with every moan imploring the man to--
And it was working...
Because suddenly the man was beside him, black t-shirt already being pulled off.
He kept stroking himself, breath excited, the sight of black cloth unveiling lean flesh strangely vivid in the haze of his mind.
Then he felt the man's weight coming down on top of him, and his chest suddenly felt like it wanted to leap right out of his body.
He struggled to lift his arms, wrapping them around the man's bare back and weakly trying to pull him closer. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally felt the man's weight settle full on top of him.
And in that moment he felt complete. As he hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe never.
After that everything became blurry again as he was consumed with a strange aching-swelling in his chest.
Maybe he was crying.
He didn't know.
But it must've been over, because the man had become so still over him, just laying there on top of him, holding him...
.
.
Sano woke up.
Alone.
Confused.
What happened?
He'd dreamt of Saitou?
A dream...
It wasn't real.
Saitou hadn't really been there.
.
Because Saitou was dead.
~
I had a sequel fic to this from Saitou's pov, but i was unsatisfied with it so i took it down. eventually i want to write something that offers some explanation for this fic, but i just need to come up with a better idea. gomen! *bows*
July 31 '04