Sanosuke padded out to the front porch, his gaze tipped skyward as he flexed his arms out over his spike-haired head.

"Wow. Pretty," he remarked, his low voice coming out, as always, like he had sand in his throat. His lips curved up in a small, charmed smile and the tangled strings of stars glittered softly in his nearly-black dark brown eyes, making him -- little did he know -- quite a pretty sight himself.

He lowered his gaze shortly then, and right as it landed on the front gate across the yard, he heard a set of knuckles pound twice against the thick wood.

"Come in!" he called out at once. It was foolish to deny the apparent exhilaration in his tone, or the sudden break of sunshine on his face. ...Just as it was to miss the disappointment that leveled off his grin as the door slid open revealing to him the person stepping in.

"Hey, Sano."

"K-Katsu. What's up?" Sano blurted out, with a smile that didn't look too convincing.

Too keen to miss this, perhaps, Katsu stopped himself short on the stone path toward the dojo. "This a bad time or something?" he asked, his smile losing its friendly sparkle with each word.

"Um, s-sorta." Sano's face twitched in a little wince. "See, it's... I'm kinda busy right now."

Katsu's thick, black eyebrows joined to form a rumple under his green bandanna. "Busy? With what?"

Against the thin wooden support to his right Sano leaned his tall, lean figure and, in a voice far smaller than normally heard out of him, disclosed, "I'm, well... He's coming over."

A smile managed to worm itself back into the frown Katsu wore, but there was a shady hint to it as he crossed his arms and said, "Y'know, just because you're house-sitting for those people doesn't mean you can do as you please here while they're away."

"Huh? What's wrong with having someone over for dinner?" Sano contended, pouting and resting his own crossed arms over his torso. "It's not like we're gonna tear down Jou-chan's house or something."

Katsu lifted an eyebrow. And stared. "Just dinner? Are you sure?"

Well, that seemed to stump Sano somehow, for he simply stared back at Katsu and said nothing in return. Seconds thereafter, though, his arms fell casually to his sides, and the next words that came through his quivery smile only compounded the poorly-feigned innocence in his eyes. "I don't know what the hell you're talking 'bout, Kats'."

Katsu shook his head, slapping on an odd expression that seemed part wanting to laugh in banter and part wanting to cry in frustration. "No, of course you don't, Sano. How suggestive of me, huh."

"Hey cut that crap now, awright," Sano snapped back, somehow sounding a little less annoyed than he looked. "What'd ya come here for, anyway?"

With a shrug that lightly ruffled his night-colored hair against his shoulders, Katsu stated, "I was bored and couldn't sleep. I just thought you might wanna hang out or something." He made a slow about-face then to close the little distance between himself and the gate, and upon reaching it, he paused and cast a sober glance back at the porch. "D'you have any idea what time it is now, anyway?"

"Uh, right about dinnertime, I just checked with the clock."

"Well, check again."

"Why?"

"Your clock might be broken. Dinnertime was four hours ago."

"What?" spluttered Sano, taking three precipitate steps forward as though to catch up to his friend, but Katsu had already faced the road and stepped out of the thick, wooden door he'd slid open.

"Have a good night, Sano."

...

For an ample while Sano stood unmoving by the top of the large stone step, his mouth hanging open as though he had attempted to say something, his eyes rounded and unblinking tacked to the gate that had already slid closed. A mild breeze blew by across his brow, bending the few short, pointy strands before the star-dappled orbs of his gaze.

It was only halfway back his snail-paced padding to the dojo hall when his eyelids fluttered, the emotive grace in his eyes coming to life once again.

In the hall's open doorway he looked across to the long room, at the glossy, western-style clock that hung on the wall above the altar. The little pendulum was barely swinging, its movements no faster than the short hand that wouldn't budge past the figure 7 or the long hand that hovered just over 12. At a point between them, the thin red, slivery hand swayed jerkily back and forth.

"Stupid clock," he muttered, the cloud of annoyance keeping the light out of his young face.

Quietly, he approached the middle of the hall and sat down crossing his long legs, beside the fat teapot by the small, low table that was neatly set for two. He was about to take the lid off one of the ivory porcelain bowls, but withdrew his hand at the last second and instead planted his elbows on either of his thighs, propping his chin square between the knuckles of his balled hands.

A few feet before him was the wide-open door, affording him a view of the dusky, empty porch, and the dusky, empty front yard. It wasn't much a captivating sight, at the very least, unless the little yawn that broke shortly out of Sano meant something else.

"Damn," he uttered, heaving a sigh as he pushed himself to sit up, "maybe I should've just let Katsu stay. ...Damn."

He touched the palm of a limp hand to his stomach and stroked it, heavily, almost lazily, and then began to bare the tawny skin of his lean abdomen, stripping away the white linen bandages that were rolled tightly around it. All through this little task he wore a face that was abnormally solemn, a look that bizarrely implied he was far deep in reflection, and if any of his pals were around they'd probably take the first chance to poke fun at him for it...

"That prick."

...or shut up altogether if they saw the raised purple veins in his right fist.

...

His stripped wrappings now tossed aside, Sano's chin then re-claimed its place atop his balled hands. He sat in controlled silence at the little table, his expression turning crestfallen one moment, and then irate the next, as he stared straight across at the gaping door. Now and then his gaze would saunter down to the covered bowls, then back to the door, then to the broken clock behind him for some pointless reason, and then back towards the door again.

"He'll be here," his words scratched at the tranquil air.

Although there was a ring of confidence to them, the heavy shadow across his face seemed to confess otherwise.

+

All was terribly quiet at the Kamiya dojo when Saitou arrived. He rapped loudly on the front gate, enough to harass the slumbering peace of the night.

But still the dojo remained uncannily silent.

"Stupid kid," he murmured.

The lack of noise notwithstanding, it was still tough to catch the sigh out of him that followed.

Clutching the sake jug with his gloved right hand, the police officer then slid the gate open with his left and swiftly entered. Sliding the door closed behind him, he stepped further into the dojo grounds, following the steady, beckoning light that shone from the main dojo hall and crept onto the front yard. Once he got to the porch, he eased his socked feet out of his black shoes and then padded his way into the wide, open room.

He paused just past the door -- his mouth twisting into what seemed like a smile, albeit a cryptic one -- for down before him, in the middle of the dazzlingly polished floor of wood, lay a sprawled Sanosuke, sleeping beside the small, filled table. A large, thick white candle sat burning across the hall, while a paper lamp stood solid an arm's length away from the young man. In the pale yellow light, his lush, spiky hair glowed a burnt tint of reddish cinnamon.

Even when Saitou finally began to pad closer, after a good four minutes and a half of quiet observation, Sano still did not stir.

Putting his sheated nihontou aside, and the jug down by the stout little teapot, Saitou sat himself on the floor beside Sano, just next to his head. And then, he started to poke him on the bright red band across his brow.

"Wake up," Saitou commanded.

...

No movement.

Another poke. "Wake up!"

...

But it seemed like Sano wouldn't, for all the world.

Saitou's slit-like eyes drifted momentarily to the far wall, and what he saw on the clock drew a sigh out of him, although, again, it was a little tough to catch it.

Sano shifted a little just then, and right away Saitou's eyes darted back down to him. The young man, however, still made no move to wake.

Saitou set his eyes fast on Sano's sleeping face, but for whatever reason his brow creased as he stared at him even further, only he had the faintest clue.

Nevertheless, he then turned to the table beside him, snapping free the rest of the buttons down his blue uniform jacket. On the dark red oaken, rectangular top lay six covered bowls of varying sizes, three arranged on one side, presumably Sano's, and the other three on the side opposite, which could hence only be Saitou's. An upturned little teacup sat on the right of either side. Saitou raised the lid of the biggest bowl on his side, and at the sight of the mushy white rice topped with a garishly shiny wreath of ill-sliced, half-burnt ginger, carrots, turnip and green sprigs, he smirked.

His apparent amusement, though, lasted no longer than it probably could have, for what he saw next when he turned back to Sano seemed serious enough to dispel his smirk. He reached for Sano's left hand that lay idle over his chest, pulling it up closer to his inspecting gaze. Across the boy's long fingers were fresh, criss-cross marks of cuts and scratches, and on his palm ran a sore-looking, ugly purple-reddish gash.

"Clumsy idiot," Saitou muttered with a small frown, the pad of his thumb grazing slowly back and forth along the burn. He blew soft, cool air against the hand's every wound, before he gave it one more rub and placed it back down over Sano's half-exposed chest.

Bending his legs now so that his soles touched, Saitou picked up the bowl he'd uncovered along with the pair of wooden chopsticks alongside it. Then, with the bowl tilted downward to his face, he began to cart a chunk of the rice and toppings into his mouth.

...

If those swiftly-raised eyebrows held any significance, it might be fair to say the food took him by surprise. And probably welcome surprise, at that, judging by the smirk that surfaced behind his bowl and his hauling in more of its contents to feed his face.

Chewing along, he set his sight on the two smaller bowls set for him and lifted their lids. In one bowl, a heapful of tiny shrimps over pickled seaweeds, and in the other, thick beef broth. With a rare frank display of enthusiasm, Saitou proceeded to consume all of the said fare.

For most of the course of his dining, his gaze stayed unwaveringly riveted to Sano, gliding from the boy's mouth, down to his right knee, up to a shoulder, never contenting itself with any one particular part, until the man found something thoroughly fascinating, perhaps, about Sano's left nipple. Saitou stared at it, and he stared, quietly chewing the food that had strangely been stuck in his mouth for more than a minute now. Then, carefully, he leaned forward over Sano's torso, and began to touch the curled tip of his tongue to that same caramel-hued nipple, licking and tasting it as though it was somehow actually part and parcel of his dinner, or as though it had even more flavor than the food itself. As he did so the young man stayed perfectly dead to the world, although oddly enough he let out the softest, barest suggestion of a moan... and smiled. It was all Saitou could do not to smirk. He gave the round, little nub of Sano's nipple one last slurpy lick, before he sat bolt upright once again and resumed partaking of his actual meal.

After washing down all he'd eaten with a cupful of tea, Saitou leisurely pulled out a cigarette stick and a matchbook from his jacket's pocket, and only a few moments later the room smelled distinctly of tobacco smoke. Not once, meanwhile, did he still tear his eyes off his companion. From Sano's bandaged feet they coasted up to his chest, down to his abdomen, and then further down... to the crotch of his white pants.

It was an inconsiderable few moments later, when the bulge in the crotch of Saitou's own pants began to make itself noticeable. Thus the man sat there with his curved right hand molded over his concealed erection, stroking himself as he not-too-obviously shifted this way and that way on the floor.

Keeping his cigarette snugly tucked in one corner of his mouth, Saitou then sidled up to sit on top of Sano in a straddling position, just over his hips. He raised Sano's right leg to sling around his waist, and then, as he gripped Sano by that same leg and grasped at the black side trim of his white jacket, Saitou spent the next many moments gazing intensely at Sano down before him, kneading his crotch continuously, urgently, against his.

Amazingly still sound asleep, Sano only swiveled his head to the other side, his lips slightly, fetchingly, apart.

Then:

"Kenshin," he suddenly called out.

Saitou stopped cold, every muscle in his face hardening rapidly with irritation.

"Kenshin," Sano even repeated.

With the lower half of his face clenched, Saitou was just about to pluck off the fiercely glowing stick from his mouth, when Sano flung his head over to the other side and growled,

"Kenshin, dammit, will you leave me and Saitou alone?!"

Then Sano tilted his head sideways again to the right, his frown instantaneously relaxing to a look of peaceful sleep.

Gradually, Saitou's own frown mellowed to something like a token smirk. He plucked his cigarette eventually from his lips and tapped it, watching the inch of ash drop and sully the smooth, firm plane of Sano's breast.

Sano continued to lay oblivious to the man that straddled him, to the critical intensity that possessed his amazing gold-colored eyes, staring flush at him.

"Stupid roosterhead..." whispered Saitou, taking a long puff of his smoke.

+

Like the rest of the sleeping neighborhood this deep in the night, not the faintest sound could be heard at the Kamiya dojo.

Until a hoarse, throaty scream burst through the dead calm:

"Saitou!!"

Sanosuke's eyes opened stark wide, only to open even stark wider the instant he saw what was right before him. Saitou was lying on his side that faced the shocked Sano, rubbing the sleepy frown in his eyes.

"Saitou??"

"What the hell did you scream like that for," the man grumbled.

"I-I was, I was d-dreamin' 'bout..." Sano left the rest of his words unsaid, as though he'd forgotten what it was he was just about to say, or perhaps hesitant to say it altogether. For one moment, nonetheless, he looked mostly... relieved, to find Saitou lying there scowling at him. But that moment was gone forever, though, when Sano suddenly returned the look given him, sat up and fumed, "You stood me up, you bastard!"

Saitou gave a weary yawn, heaving his own self up in a sitting position and slipping a hand into the left front pocket of his open jacket. "Imbecile. If I had stood you up, then I obviously wouldn't be here."

The frown along Sano's eyebrows stiffened as he watched Saitou lean his back to the wall and calmly light the cigarette he'd just pulled out. "Okay, then, why the hell were you late?" charged the young man.

Saitou took the time to drag twice on his smoke, before giving his flat, languid reply. "Something came up that required my immediate attention."

That seemed to pacify Sano, in some way, for he merely carried on watching Saitou suck in his fumes and said nothing more.

There was perhaps a couple seconds of silence that weaved uncertainly between the two, neither of them showing any sign the still air was making them uncomfortable in the least, though it probably would've felt like it between another pair of grown men.

Almost by chance, Sano glanced, for the first time, to his left. Then he did a quick double-take, not expecting to see, perhaps, the empty uncovered bowls on Saitou's side of the table.

Saitou, who had been observing, of course, blew a twisted ribbon of smoke through his lips and, as if explaining himself, told Sano, "I was starved."

Whipping his attention back to Saitou, Sano cracked a broad smirk, one that had a gentle hint of smugness to it. "Just admit it, ol' man, that was the best-tasting meal your roach face has ever had."

"Whatever you say, blockhead," Saitou appeared to sigh. He probably would've rolled his eyes as well if he had taken the trouble. "The poor Kamiya girl though and her kitchen."

"Hey, at least I didn't blow up the stove."

"Did you even bother to leave anything in the pantry?"

"Hah!" Sano issued a brazen snort. "Just so you know, I bought my own supplies!"

"With borrowed money, I would presume."

"Yeah, well, of course I had to borrow some, you didn't give me any!"

"Idiot, and why ever would I give you any money?"

"Because you got a job and I'm flat broke, dumbass! How was I supposed to make this dinner when you didn't give me any money?"

Saitou shot Sano a look that seemed markedly affronted, yet tangibly humored at the same time. "You asked me to this dinner in the first place. Naturally every person in his sound mind would expect you to take care of it."

"What?"

"If I had been the one who asked, then naturally I would've been the one to spend on this."

"J-ju-just quit it with that crap already, okay, it's not like I was asking you to pay me or anything! I mean, I do a lot of shit for you for free, anyway, and -- hey," Sano cut himself off, noticing the jug of sake by the table all of a sudden. "Did you bring this?"

Puffing along, Saitou nonchalantly nodded. "Yes. I brought it for you."

"For me?"

"For you."

...

Ah, who knew the glow of blush-rose suited Sano's cheeks like that? "Thanks," he told Saitou, failing to shrug off his embarrassment, if that was the word for it, anyway. He reached out a hand towards the jug. "You want some?"

"Maybe later."

"Okay." Shrugging, Sano pulled his hand back. "Guess me too."

Against the wall behind him Saitou tipped the ashy end of his stick, the look in his face a steady puzzle of context and intent as he eyed Sano with a transfixing gaze. "Are you sure they're not coming back in a few days?"

"Yeah, that's what Kenshin said to me," nodded Sano. "And knowing the weasel girl, heh, I'll bet they ain't getting back from the Aoiya in a few weeks."

"Is that so."

"Huh. Not that I'm complaining."

"Of course not."

"Nope. I just have to look after this place, anyway, how hard is that?"

"Nothing to it, I suppose."

"Yeah."

"And you wouldn't have to sleep in your seedy room for a change, imagine that."

"Hey!"

"Neither would I."

...

For one reason or another, Saitou and Sano stopped talking altogether then, and they simply returned earnestness for earnestness in a seemingly perpetual locking of gazes.

+

On the floor some distance away from the little table, Saitou lay on his side right beside Sanosuke, half his body extended over the supine young man. They had both undressed themselves partially and were bare-chested now, their torsos glistening from the sheer film of sweat that gilded their skin. Saitou's hands had now also been ungloved, his right clutching securely at the rooster-spikes of Sano's hair while his left stroked the clothed arousal in Sano's groin. Sano, meanwhile, had his left arm draped around Saitou's muscled back, and his right hand gripped tightly around Saitou's left wrist. As Saitou rubbed himself easefully against Sano and Sano rubbed his splayed right leg languidly against the tatami, they kissed slowly and deeply, their moans barely escaping each other's mouth.

It was retarded not to see how much they were liking this, especially when it had to take them a good six or seven minutes at the least to pry their reddened lips apart.

But even after they finally broke the kiss, Saitou didn't stop caressing Sano with his lips, slathering kisses on his left cheek as he took his hand off Sano's crotch and slipped his sturdy arm around his waist.

Opening his eyes, Sano brought his hand up from Saitou's wrist to wedge his knuckles through the smooth, black strands of his hair. "Saitou?" he called in a thick whisper.

The older man slid a knee between Sano's legs and, not once stopping to lip his face, returned, "What."

"Is it true what Cho said?"

"Hm? What did he say?"

"That you're moving back to Kyoto real soon?"

Saitou might have paused in his kissing for a moment, but even if he did, it was too fleeting for Sano to notice. In any case, he let his mouth trace the graceful, wanton curve of Sano's neck, suppressing his response in its soft, silky flesh.

"What's that?" Sano asked, his eyes closing and opening for a second.

"Yes, it's true," Saitou pronounced, and it wasn't half as difficult to hear this time.

"But why?"

"Chief's orders." Saitou uttered the last word half into Sano's mouth for he now swiftly french-kissed him once more, sliding his arm up Sano's back and sweeping his slender body even closer into his own.

...

If this kiss seemed slightly different from their last, it was only probably because there was a bit more passion fused into it. And when it came to its end, as it had to, Sano stroked Saitou's hair and heaved into it, "But you'll come back, right?"

Saitou's reply came out indifferent against Sano's shoulder. "I don't know."

"Well...d'you think I can..."

"... What."

"You know...come with you?"

"No."

At almost the same instant Saitou curtly spoke the word, Sano frowned against the man's hair and began elbowing his way out of his embrace. Once Saitou had casually let him go, Sano sat up glaring with full force down at the man who still lay calmly on his side. "You make me sick," he spat out.

When Saitou merely scratched his jaw and offered nothing in return, Sano crawled halfway across the floor toward the little table. There he picked up his chopsticks, and started to stuff what was left of the dinner into his grouched face.

Saitou took a glance over his shoulder at Sano and snorted. "Hn, that's a sure way to eat to upset your stomach, moron."

"What do you fucking care," Sano retorted, his every syllable shooting off in a harsh sputter. Almost without pausing he continued to pack the rice and shrimps and beef strips into his mouth, mincing no words of indignation and barking expletives and such with his mouth full and all.

At this, Saitou could only seem to shake his head in resignation. Just as he did so, however, the bowl in Sano's grip took a sudden, ringing tumble down to the floor, and Sano lurched forward grabbing frantically at his own throat. Soon after, there was only Sano's horrible gagging noises that took up the air.

"Idiot!" Saitou roared, almost leaping up to rush to Sano. He gave Sano's upper back a quick, hard, open-handed pounding, and this helped Sano one way or another to spew out the lump of food that had rammed in his throat.

...

As Sano zealously hawked and gasped for breath, Saitou rubbed his heaving back vigorously and reached for the sake jug close by.

"Here, drink," he ordered Sano, who promptly snatched the jug from him and took in big gulps of the liquor.

Saitou sat back against the nearest wall and, with his teeth ground together, gave Sano a dark, grave scowl.

Now apparently fully recovered, Sano slammed the jug down and snapped at Saitou with a dark, grave scowl of his own. "You could've broken my back, asshole!"

"Shut up," Saitou snapped back, the long vein by the side of his brow swelling. "What, you'd rather that I watched you choke to death from your own stupidity?!"

"I could've handled it myself!"

"You stupid fool. Don't you fucking ever do that again." And stiffly Saitou looked away, reaching for his pack of smokes that sat a couple of feet from him on the floor.

Remarkably enough, Sano neither spoke a word in return nor budged, nor unglued his eyes from the fist he had clenched around the mouth of the jug. In a little while, he lifted himself from the floor, then pushed the table away to the wall opposite where Saitou sat.

Quietly lighting himself another cigarette, Saitou spared only the barest glimpse as Sano wordlessly padded out of the room. The moment he was left alone, Saitou lay down flat on his back on the floor, a hand cushioning his head, a leg propped up sideways on a bent knee. He smoked his tobacco stick, looking fixedly up at the wooden beams of the ceiling with a few sullen lines between his eyebrows.

Meanwhile, Sano was wending his way to the first room down the porch. Once he'd slid its paper door open, he crossed the room and took the lone futon rolled-up against the wall.

Midway back his padding to the dojo hall, he came to a full, gradual stop, his thoughtful eyes sticking to the wooden floorboards of the porch. Then, "That prick," he murmured, smiling a pleased little smile to himself, and hugging tight the futon that filled his arms.

He proceeded to the room where the older man still lay smoking, just shortly after his smile had begun to fade. Saitou wouldn't have seen it, at any rate, for he had yet to turn and look at Sano again.

Still without talking Sano rolled out the futon on the floor, mere centimeters next to Saitou. Then, he lay down flat on his back on the soft, white bedding on the side closest to the man, that they lay there with only a string's breadth between them.

The pair sustained the utter stillness for some few minutes, both staring up at the old woodwork of the ceiling as though it were more absorbing than anything else inside the room. But it wasn't too long before:

"Ol' man?"

"... What."

"... D'you remember the first time you kissed me?"

Saitou's face broke into an expression that looked like he was ready to snort, but then he merely dragged on his cigarette and replied, "I don't suppose I would."

"It was right here in this room, you know. That day we first met? -- you kissed me for the first time."

"No, I did not."

"I was all sprawled out right about there, jerk," Sano eagerly pointed across the room, "after you'd managed to bring me down --"

"Managed?"

"I was almost unconscious a'that point, but right before I passed out I remember you bending down to my face -- I could smell your stinking cigarette breath, y'know -- then you put your trap right over mine and you said, 'I'll see you again, boy.'"

"Hn. I don't think that's quite accurate."

"Hmph, prob'ly not," Sano crossed his arms in feeble huff, "but the point is, you kissed me, I know it. Or actually, I didn't really think you kissed me 'til a few days after."

"Whatever," Saitou conceded blandly.

"Heh, I thought it was kinda freaky."

"Hn."

"But then kinda exciting."

"I'm sure."

"And you know what? I hadn't stopped thinkin' about you ever since."

Saitou said nothing, even if he did appear to open his mouth to say something. Once he'd taken a long, final drag from his cigarette, he ground out the filter to the floor and then tossed it away towards the wall.

Sano sat up then, and the next moment he was sitting right on top of Saitou, straddling the man. Not batting an eyelash in the least, Saitou held Sano's hips firmly, as well as his gaze.

Slowly, Sano bent down over Saitou and let his affectionate mouth rove all over the lean muscles that make up the man's broad chest, sliding himself down a little further until he could close his lips around one of Saitou's nipples.

The whole while Saitou just lay still beneath the busy young man, his hands cupped over the bony joints of Sano's shoulders.

As a result of Saitou's apparent indifference, Sano glanced up at him. "Why don't you react, or something?" he demanded, the look in his eyes at least slighted, at most annoyed.

"Why should I?" Saitou rejoined.

"Don't you like it when I suck your nipples?"

"I don't feel anything when you suck my nipples, if you must know."

Sano frowned, now unbending himself a little. "That's weird."

"I'd tell you the same thing," Saitou returned with a smirk, "the way you moan like a nympho when I suck your nipples."

"That's not true!"

With a swift wave of his right hand, Saitou brushed the backs of his fingers against a nipple of Sano's.

"Damn," Sano groaned, giving Saitou just the reason to smirk a tad wider. Rather than get worked up, as he was most likely to do, Sano cracked a rougish smile. "Well," he said, as he started to unfasten and part the zipper of Saitou's trousers, "let's see if you don't feel anything here."

Once Sano had pulled the dark blue pants halfway down Saitou's thighs and brought into view his smooth, hardening erection, he curled his hand around the cock, causing a low moan to roll stubbornly out of the older man. Sano then tucked his bent knees between Saitou's legs, bowed his head, and took the full length of Saitou's shaft into his mouth.

Although muted, there was a bit more ease now to the succeeding moans out of Saitou, the curved bones that make up his ribs rising with every bob of Sano's head over his crotch. His hips shifted and tossed, the flesh of his thighs trembling under Sano's stroking hands. Saitou's own hands glided their way through Sano's hair, and he closed his fingers around its soft, thick strands as he half-sat up grimacing in what seemed like a stark cross between suffering and bliss.

Although Sano's head stopped its bobbing a couple minutes later, there was no stopping the full, deep moan out of Saitou as Sano's arms circled his naked hips, and gave the man one last, long suck.

Just as Sano lifted his head at last from Saitou's crotch, Saitou grabbed the back of the waist of Sano's pants and pushed it down until his smooth, firm buttocks were laid bare. He pushed Sano away until the young man was himself sitting up with legs liberally unfurled before Saitou. Immediately Saitou clasped his hand around Sano's still-thickened cock, and then slid his grip on its flushed length up and down, quickly, on end.

Sano let loose the loudest moan so far the night had heard, holding on determinedly to Saitou's arms as if he was going to collapse if he didn't. Saitou raised a hand to Sano's face to try and swab away the pearly droplet that still clung to his lower lip, and Sano gave Saitou's forefinger a quick, dewy kiss as it passed over his mouth.

Keeping Sano's rolling hips down with his hands, Saitou then bent over the swollen crotch before him. The young man let out his lustiest moan yet as he leaned back against his unsteady left arm and lightly held the back of Saitou's head that moved up and down his groin for one last time.

Just as Saitou ceased sucking and released Sano, Sano dragged him up by the jaw until their lips touched and sealed fast in a fervid kiss. They held and cradled each other tight, rubbing together what parts of their bodies that they could.

Little short of five minutes later, Saitou severed their kiss and tugged roughly at Sano's pants. "Take these off," he urged, catching his breath as he gave Sano's upper lip a light nibble.

With no questions asked, Sano untangled himself from Saitou to pull his pants off. Saitou, on the other hand, stripped himself down to his white socks, extracting the crystalline vial of oil from his pants' pocket before he laid his clothing aside.

With the equally-naked Sano now on his hands and knees on the futon, Saitou pulled him close by the waist, kneeled behind him, and began to slip his two oil-daubed fingers into the crevice deep between Sano's buttock cheeks.

Sano bent his elbows abruptly, burying his little noises into his forearm.

For about a good two or three minutes more, Saitou not once ceased moving his fingers inside Sano in a slow, swirling motion. There was nothing on his face that belied his seriousness.

And Saitou was, perhaps, just a little too serious at the moment, too, that Sano looked up over his shoulder and quite nearly rolled his eyes. "Do you plan on finishing yet?"

"Patience, nympho."

"Che. You're just flattering yourself, you know."

Slowly Saitou frowned, but not for one moment stopped his ministrations. "What?"

"Jeesh, man. You're not that big that you have to stretch me all that way out just for me to accomodate you."

"Really. Maybe I'm just trying to tease you."

"You wouldn't!"

But Saitou only teased him further with yet another smirk.

Just then, Sano pulled himself forcibly away from Saitou's grip, then laid himself down on the futon before the kneeling man. He hoisted his wide-parted legs, propping his bandaged ankles on either of Saitou's shoulders. "I'm ready, goddammit," he declared, shooting Saitou a solemnly imploring look.

Perhaps just as ready now, himself, Saitou gradually wiped his face clear of any teasing smirk and leaned forward into the expectant young man beneath him. Impressing his hands on Sano's raised hips with a firm, secure grip, Saitou then began to slide his thick, jutting arousal into the very entrance he had so assiduously prepared.

And as Saitou slowly, finally, joined themselves together, Sano bit down on a strangled cry, bracing himself by keeping a firm, secure hold on Saitou's arms. Then, with their long, slim bodies locked and united by the hips, Saitou began to draw himself out and then shove himself back into the trembling Sano, repeating the intensifying process over and over and over. At one point, he bent down further as he pulled Sano up to himself for an excessively torrid kiss.

In the quiet of the night the two men rocked and ground themselves together, moaning and crying into their sealed mouths and reeling and corraling each other into their possessive arms, their bodies conjoined so tight and so snug they left absolutely no room for doubt they were born to fit into each other.

For a few heated minutes more they made love to one another, rocking with even more fervor, until Sano made the walls shudder with his cry and Saitou stifled his own with the dampness of Sano's chest.

Saitou collapsed flat down atop Sano, who threw his arms around him and engrossed him in yet another kiss.

As though they hadn't already a few times before in just the past hour, Saitou and Sano kissed each other with blazing hot passion, only to break out of it a minute or two later chortling at themselves like idiots.

They stared at each other thus, licking bruised lips and noses, until their silly laughter gradually lapsed into whispered sweet nothings, and Saitou said to Sano, "I need a bath. Care to join me?"

Sano grinned. "Idiot, do you have to ask?"

"Good."

Right away Saitou lifted himself off Sano, reached for his uniform pants, and stood up to step into them.

Sano still lay on his back on the futon, his clasped hands pinned beneath his head, watching Saitou with a funny smile on his face. "Whatcha wearing that shit for? We're taking a bath!"

"I'm not walking around naked in this house."

"But you'll be taking that off anyway when we get to the bathroom."

"Besides, unlike you," Saitou said further, now buttoning his pants up and staring down at the laid-out Sano, "I have some sense of decency."

"Yeah, whatever you say, you old perv," Sano smirked.

Saitou grunted, though he was smirking as well. "Well, are you coming or not?" he uttered, now turning to head for the door.

Just before Saitou could step out to the porch, Sano sprung ably to his feet. He reached Saitou in a single stride, chuckling and embracing the man fiercely from behind. "Whoo, let's go take a bath then!" And he pushed Saitou with his body, egging him on to walk forward but without letting him go.

Saitou merely shook his head, lifting the glistening back of Sano's knees up astride his hips to give him a piggyback ride, most probably because it would be easier to walk that way.

Coiling his arms around Saitou's neck, Sano snuggled his nose just behind Saitou's ear, and smiled. "Saitou. Saitou Hajime. I love you. Love you. Hajime. I love you..."

Although there was this little, barely noticeable twitch that ruffled the calmness on his face, Saitou simply kept walking on carrying Sano to the bath.

"...even though you're a bastard..."

But at this, Saitou scowled.

"...and, your breath smells like shit, and you call me names, and yeah, even though you're too cheap to give me money, and not half as cute as Taicho, and... and... leaving me alone soon..."

Tossing his scowl over his right shoulder, Saitou told Sano, "You idiot, I'm not leaving anytime soon."

"What?" Sano's damp eyebrows soared to the heavens. "But you just said you were moving back to Kyoto."

"I said that's what is stated in the order. I never said I'd take it."

"But, but can you do that?"

"If I come up with a valid reason, yes."

Had Saitou faced forward a split-second later, he would've probably gone blind from the radiant flash of light in Sano's eyes. "Awright, ol' man!"

"Hn. Now shut up before I change my --"

-- mind, perhaps Saitou had intended to say, just before Sano wrenched his face sideways to his own and crushed whatever else he wanted to tell him with an ever long and deep kiss.

END

+

Postscript:

Early the next morning, a carriage was spotted pulling up at the front gate of the Kamiya dojo. Apparently, Kaoru had forgotten to bring her favorite kimono along, hence she, along with Kenshin and Yahiko, had to come back for a quick stop and get it.

Right upon setting foot on the dojo grounds, Kenshin could already tell for certain that there was something... wrong. He entered the main dojo hall to find it somewhat of a mess. Meanwhile, Kaoru entered the kitchen to find it a complete mess. And when Yahiko entered the bathroom, he ran out screaming freaked out that there were two perverts sleeping naked in the tub.

...

"SANOS'KE!! What have you done with my house?!?!"