Sanosuke, Sanosuke, Sanosuke...Ahou

Saitou's whispering his name over and over as he slips his finger—and then fingers—in and out of him; a chant, a prayer, hoarse and stripped like he's lost control of his voice.
It's beautiful. The street fighter is beautiful, writhing, his eyes closed and mouth open. He's almost unbelievably tight...too tight and it becomes apparent that he hasn't done this.

Not with anyone.

This isn't supposed to be happening.

Not like this. It was supposed to be…like it was supposed to be. Saitou's hands clench on the bar of soap and crack the thin bar in half. It was supposed to be simple. It should have been simple, because it's the ahou. But on the other hand, it's ahou, and so he tries to pretend. That it isn't what it is. Because it's ahou.

Hell.

This is just a dream that`s been twisted and changed. This is something done to Sanosuke, because of him. Because Saitou fucked up and didn't take care of Sanosuke properly.

The cop knows he fucked up. He let his need get in the way, crossed the line and now he's got to deal with that like he's got to deal with every other thing; you take care of it, you fix the problem and act like it doesn`t affect you at all. Just be stone-faced the whole time.

Except he's not fixing Sanosuke. He's having sex with the teenager. And really, he's not sure he's not just making it worse, too weak to figure out what the right thing really is. It's not like he can ask for advice, because his role of thumb is that he doesn`t need anyone.

"I want this. I want you." Sanosuke had uttered.

But it's a lie. Sanosuke doesn't want him, Sanosuke left him and Saitou is the selfish wolf who dragged him back and took him to his bed.


Sanosuke`s throat still aches and his eyes still burn from the tears that had spilled.

He listens as the water in the bathroom falls, hitting the floor. He tries very hard not to picture Saitou soaping up to scrub away all trace of the street fighter yet again, bitter pain sinking deeper, hurting more.

For his part, Sanosuke had been sticky and so had been the sheets. Mechanically, he gets up and strips the bed and then himself, all to a mental chorus of Saitou wants me.

It had seemed like so much to hope for.

Turns out that was the simple part.

Why couldn`t he just say it?

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