It's not that bad, but it's still non-graphic sexiness. And it has mentions of manjuice. So I went with M.

xox

Lupin sobbed pathetically into Fujiko's chest, her floppy blobs of chick meat being the only thing that could cheer him up. He was happy, he truly was. He had always known that Jigen just needed to get laid; Fujiko thought the same. And yet he knew how deep that love was. He knew that he had, in many ways, lost them forever. And before he and Fujiko could even coax the gunman into a threesome. Fujiko kept a hand on Lupin's neck, eyes teary but keeping strong for her boyfriend. She knew what he was thinking, had thought it herself, but she had to be the man now. Her resolve came delicately close to cracking when the aphrodisiac scent crossed her, tempting her to call out to her hunger, to what she craved. But she had Lupin and dammit, he would have to be good enough. "It's alright," she told him in a sad attempt to comfort the pain that only a man's touch could take away.

Goemon looked as stunning as ever, still wearing that old leather thong of his. For the occasion, he also sported the also leather revealing faux-halter top in which he and Jigen had realized their love. He carried a bouquet of seaweed, refusing to lower himself to the level of a girl. But he sure felt like one when he was around that scruffy love muffin. His cheeks carried a light, natural rouge. Everything was perfect. He had even gotten Jigen to agree to a traditional wedding.

Jigen's attractiveness was upped tenfold, one barely able to call him dressed in his fundoshi(A/N: Japanese panties for men) and oni mask (A/N: Japanese shrek). Somehow, in the strange, rain forest like setting, he didn't feel ridiculous. It all fit. He turned to his bride-to-be, the two staring into eachother's eyes with love few knew of and graciously accepted the seaweed shoved at his mouth before the proper ceremony was to begin.

It had been long. Once it was over, Lupin and Fujiko were gone, but the lovebirds didn't notice, too caught up in eachother. Jigen had placed a blindfold over the samurai's eyes, leading him on a plane for the honeymoon he had planned out. He had to even it out with a Western tradition, after all. He had booked plenty of time for them to do their stuff, too. He remembered the last time...

After a long series of travels, one which was making Jigen more impatient than he had been in a long time, he opened the door to their hotel room and shoved the samurai in (in a sort of gentle lover way, but also just wanted to get to the getting it on). The hatted man, having removed his mask so he could wear it but still otherwise wearing his wedding outfit, pulled the blindfold off of his long troubled wife. "Happy Wedding," he said, kissing Goemon on the cheek. "I gotta take a leak, but I'll be back in a minute." He ran into the bathroom at Superman speed, frantic to take his leak. His rooster yearned for things, the most immediate being to rid itself of the liquid sunshine that had built up over the plane ride. He shook the thing wildly, trying to rid it of its task inducing juice before he realized what he had ended up doing. Grinning down, he tsk'ed. "Gotta save yourself for Goemon," he scolded, going back out to that person who was now sitting on the bed. "You like?"

Goemon took his time in scanning the room. "It is acceptable." Sort of pretty... "I wanted to talk to you about something." One thing many did not know about Goemon was that he was a poet. He had written much poetry about his beloved and was finally ready to share some.

Jigen had already sat himself next to Goemon and was trying to get his attention. His sexy attention. And it worked.

Goemon froze as his lover, now husband, came closer, his tallness bringing a certain part of the body into Goemon's view. A blush formed on his cheeks as he gazed tenderly at it, reaching out his hand to which Jigen instantly reacted. Twin chocolate raisins stood erect on the marshmallow cream mounds that were his moobies. Goemon trembled, the urge to gnash them between his teeth raging through him in a surprising bout of lust. Before he could react, he was pulled up, his eyes finally on level with Jigen's face. He couldn't enjoy this, however, for his eyes soon fluttered shut as a feverish tongue pinned his down like in arm wrestling--which Jigen always had been good at. His mouth popped open with a whine, him wishing his training had been enough to have him match Jigen's utter rugged manliness. The two pulled away to reveal Jigen giving Goemon a smug look.

"Do I taste sushi?"

Goemon held a hand over his mouth in shock, blush deepening. "At least I don't taste like jerky. You know I don't eat Western food." Though he would hate to admit that he liked it. He even knew what jerky tasted like.

"You know you like it," Jigen said in a knowing voice, sort of thrusting himself forward to appear hawter.

Goemon rolled off of the bed, turning his back to the increasingly seductive man he had come to love. "Look, Jigen, this is just... awkward." He whipped back around dramatically, tears of shame stagnantly glazing his abyss-like eyes. "I'm used to being in control of the situation. I don't know if I can do it like this."

Jigen approached with careful steps, wrapping his arms around his distraught lover. "It's okay, baby. I'll be gentle," he admitted in a voice that held not only sex appeal, but an ocean of sincerity that was reserved for only one man. Said man gazed up, eyes glittering with a renewed understanding of their relationship. He couldn't argue with that.

Two days and two nights of crazy hot, and unfortunately whipless, sex later, Jigen was laying on his side, redressed in his man panties while his breath came in gasps. He had promised to be gentle, sure, but apparently Goemon hadn't shared the sentiment. His grand canyon felt as though it had become a volcano. It was bursting with something hot, red, and sticky, anyway. "How do you keep up?" he asked with a tired laugh, not bothering to conceal how amazed he was. He'd never met a girl that made him feel like he was tearing in half. To be fair, he had given a good deal of the action. It wasn't his fault the samurai was an animal.

"You make that all too easy." Goemon leaned over his panting lover, fire red lips casting moist kisses upon Jigen's cheek and going down his neck. If there was one thing he had learned from those hours and hours of hot mansex, it was that Jigen had a fascinating flavor unlike any he had ever known. Of course, he was a samurai, so he didn't use soap. Regardless, the lack of whips and kinky things had been in his favor, for he would have continued to neglect this amazing feature.

Jigen gasped when the lips hit his mune, his whole body stiffening. He let out a laugh. "You're never gonna leave me alone, are you?" The answer was obvious when the sopping sponge that was Goemon's tongue peaked out, stealing a taste of his stomach. If he ever regretted the inherently seductive quality of his sweat, he took it back. He sat up and started to pet Goemon's hair, bracing himself for another round of the good stuff when he realized Goemon wasn't removing the leather manthong, just his fundoshi. "Wh-what are you doing?" he asked, whole face if not body going red as an unfamiliar sensation seized his giant, fleshy dude mushroom, causing him to fall back and grit his teeth. What had compelled Goemon to do that? He dearly wanted to say the puncturing feeling of Goemon's teeth didn't make him throb fin all the right ways, but he felt like a total virgin as he twitched and groaned, thrashing his head about until his he-vinegar --and probably, definitely not blood-- leaked out of his sinful component as if from a sieve.

Goemon was more turned on than ever. He had thought to be savoring the taste of Jigen's skin before. It turned out that his sex manic husband tasted like strawberries. He generally avoided stuff that wasn't traditional Japanese (A/N: like weird fish and herbs and stuff), but to hell if he wasn't willing to make some exceptions. He more or less jumped on the man who was skilled with more than one type of gun, locking their lips in a kiss of what the Spanish would call passhon(A/N: sorry if that's wrong, I used a translator. I don't know Spanish lol). Before he knew it, he was shoved down roughly, Jigen pulling back and smirking down at him.

Jigen liked this display of desperation. He basked in sadistic delight as the samurai's eyebrows furrowed together. "What, you didn't think I was gonna pay you back? That would be a dishonor to my ancestors," he explained in phrasing that Goemon would understand. Although their love was lustful, it was also filled with the emotion of true love which could be proven in the small things they did for the other like that. He threw his hand into the black, drippy treasure chest, feeling around teasingly while he watched the samurai's face turn several shades of color, the guarded, nebulous black eyes never leaving his. With his free hand, he traced the sensual outline of Goemon's lips until he couldn't take it anymore and dove down, amorous pillows of mouth plunging into the gaping sea of sex stew that was the samurai's mouth, his hand grasping onto the solid man-handle (A/N: get it? Like manhandle?) and kneading it mercilessly, another teasing action. He couldn't help it; the Japanese man was just so fun to play with. As Goemon's mouth split away from his, releasing lots of 'ngh' and 'ah' sounds, sort of sounding like he was gagging, Jigen got serious and acted out what only years of an angsty, lonely man's masturbation could have birthed. It became a steady motion, his hand moving in time to the beat of the inaudible tune that was theirs and theirs alone, a song that started as a sweet, sensuous melody that truly wrapped every inch with a fluffy soft blanket, yet warped into a heavy, bad-ass rock and roll number filled with way more emotion than even grunge--more like screamo. He did this until he thought his hand would break; until he thought Goemon's eyes would roll into the back of his head before the samurai seemed to relax, burying his face in his pillow. He loved how Jigen made him feel, but it was so embarrassing at times.

Jigen removed his hand from Goemon's wicked witch broomstick and stroked Goemon's chin. "Mmm, wanton soup," he said jokingly with sort of a cheeky voice. With that, an eye popped out, seeming to deem it alright to come out.

"You... You win," Goemon said lowly, offering a smile despite himself.

"That's my boy." Jigen brought them together for another kiss. The super hot now exclusively Jigen dominant intimacy would last for two weeks and three days at which point they would be kicked out of their hotel room.