Author's Note:

My first Ikemen Sengoku fanfiction, a gift fic for the tumblr and cybird friend Sakura-CherryBomb-hime, otherwise known as Dude-hime. ... These things always seem funnier in the middle of the night or when you've had no sleep. No wonder I like it.

Sanada Yukimura tries to go on a picnic with Sakura-hime (MC), with both unfortunate and fortunate results.

~ ImpracticalOni

Caught in the Rain: A Picnic With Yukimura

"We're lost. And it's raining."

My companion rolled his eyes. They were unusually fine hazel eyes, but their expression was as stormy as the weather at the moment. The owner of the eyes was wearing a loose red kimono and grey hakama, both now a little the worse for wear. The fabric of the kimono was soaking wet and plastered to his back across his broad shoulders, and both kimono and hakama were stained with mud. Among other things.

"We're not lost, and no kidding. Or do people from five-hundred years in the future have a special need to constantly mention the obvious—like, somehow I might have missed the water falling from the sky?"

"I've mentioned the rain twice now, at most. You are so annoying." Probably not the most mature thing to say, but he deserved it.

"Likewise—wait, I'll help you over that pond. Or would you rather wade?"

Torn between irritation at needing help—I hadn't chosen my clothes for hiking—and reluctant amusement at Yukimura's description of an especially large puddle, I hesitated. He wouldn't ask again—we were both too grumpy about the way today's picnic adventure had been spoiled—but the fact that he'd asked at all meant that he was feeling a little guilty for suggesting taking a 'short-cut' back to Kasugayama. It was time to accept his metaphorical olive branch and spread some oil on troubled waters. Though not olive oil, since 1582 Japan doesn't stock the stuff. I almost giggled, but hastily reached out and took Yukimura's proffered hand.

"Thanks, Yukimura. And thank you for letting me have the umbrella"—which we wouldn't have at all except that I'd insisted on bringing one after seeing the clouds, but let it go—"given that you had such a bad cold recently."

"I'm fine," muttered Yukimura, eyes shifting away and a trace of colour high on his cheeks. "And you shouldn't apologize for using your own umbrella." Instead of helping me over the puddle, Yukimura pulled me closer, stooped under the umbrella, and gave me a quick—if slightly damp—kiss on the forehead. His way of saying that he appreciated my attempt to end this particular round of bickering.

"I take back what I said about being lost," I said magnanimously, unable to resist the chance to run my free hand along his cheek and jawline.

The hazel eyes—which had returned to my face—were brighter now, and he looked unusually dashing with his wind-touseled hair and rain-dampened clothes. Especially since the clothes were now clinging in places, and Yukimura's upper chest was mostly bare thanks to the open style of his collar and the drag of wet sleeves. I knew I should be worried about him becoming chilled—I was worried!—but I was also distracted by the way that the excess water was beading on the planes of his smooth skin. I didn't complain when he took the umbrella from me and held it over both of us, necessarily bringing us closer together.

"We're totally going to get scolded when we get back," Yukimura groaned, his mood apparently not quite in tune with my own. "And Sasuke'll be the worst! That guy worries too much, you know? He's some kind of demon when it comes to 'planning ahead to reduce the impact of unforeseen eventualities.'"

"He may overthink things at times," I responded, soothingly.

"Yeah. Then again, he has to deal with Lord Kenshin. He'll say that I should have stayed home to spar with him. And then there's Lord Shingen!"

"Shingen will tell you how he's planned hundreds of picnics that didn't end up taking place over a nest of ants—"

"Or beside a patch of nettle."

"Or near a wolf den."

"… Okay, but that part wasn't so bad." Yukimura's tone was challenging, but he couldn't quite hide a smile.

Reflexively, I leaned my head against his shoulder, only to yelp and draw back at the feel of cold, wet cloth. The kimono was soaked through.

"You need to get dry. Where's a handy motel when you need one? Purely for health reasons, of course." I paused thoughtfully.

"What?"

"There's no way we can sneak into the castle without Sasuke—and everyone else—finding out. But there's got to be an inn that will lend us a room for a few hours—"

"You know how that sounds, right?"

I blushed, but persisted. "Look, what's worse? A little embarrassment, or a chance to avoid the mom-squad for a while?"

"… You're right."

I peeked up at him, and realized that avoiding a scolding—or worse, a spar with Kenshin—was no longer his chief preoccupation. He looked flushed, and his expression had gone from teasing to something warmer. A lot warmer. He used his free hand to pull my head towards him, but instead of kissing me, his lips and teeth fastened on my neck just below my ear in something partway between a caress and a bite. I shivered right down to my toes from something other than cold.

"Mmmm—Yukimura…"

"Problem?" His voice was a little husky.

"Is there?"

"Nope, I know just the place."

"Where we can get warm and dry?"

"And avoid the mom-squad. Though I can't see Lord Kenshin as a 'mom'—more like a twisted uncle who likes to make you sweat at every opportunity." Yukimura's words were humorous, but his fingers had slid down from the back of my head to stroke the sensitive skin around and behind my other ear. I had to concentrate not to whine for more attention.

"So you're—mmm—willing to risk your reputation?"

For answer, he nipped at my earlobe before murmuring, "What reputation? Most of the townsfolk don't know me all that well here—personally, I mean—and tend to assume that I must be like Lord Shingen."

"Oh? And what about my reputation?"

"Guilt by association. Now are we going or what?"

This time, he fastened his mouth to mine, kissing me hungrily. The umbrella wobbled overhead, and I suddenly felt cold rain on my upturned face.

"… Going…" Before my knees give out.

The room we were given was small, but cozy. Yukimura shed his wet kimono and muddy hakama, and I dutifully toweled him off, eventually letting my hands wander from their appointed task. His skin was no longer cold to the touch; we were both warming up nicely.

As soon as my obi was untied, Yukimura pushed me down into the soft futon, strong hands first supporting me and then moving greedily over my body under the folds of my kimono and undergarments. I couldn't repress a moan when he lowered his mouth to one of my breasts, while his other hand rolled the nipple of the other breast between thumb and forefinger, now-familiar callouses only heightening the sensation. The banter of earlier in the day had been replaced by panting breaths. I gripped Yukimura's lean flanks and whimpered as his teeth and tongue became more demanding.

"This is… quite a good… picnic…" I told him, as his mouth trailed hot kisses up from my breast to my collarbone, before settling against my lips. I felt him smile before his tongue claimed mine, a first intimate joining that foreshadowed the pleasure of what was to come.

Eventually I found myself squirming under him, my hands roaming insistently across his muscled back.

"Ready for more?" His fingers had found their way back to pinch and tease one already taut nipple.

"Nnnnggggh… So ready." I heard his breath catch at the desire in my voice.

"… Well then." He shifted his weight to one side, and moved down a little, so that his fingers could graze across the sensitive, heated skin at the apex of my legs. I tried to press myself upward against his hand, and yet another low moan crossed my lips. Allowing his hand to linger maddeningly, he suckled one breast, then murmured, "We were supposed to get dry… but you seem awfully wet…"

"Tease."

"Wanton."

"My reputation's already in tatters, right? Might as well—aaahhhh—enjoy myself."

An instant later, Yukimura was fully over me again, face and skin flushed with desire. I loved that look, just as I knew how much he loved to see me lose control. He ground himself against me, hard, claimed my lips and tongue, and then thrust into me, taking all the rest. I didn't bother to try to be quiet. Let them be jealous of how good things were for us.

I would definitely go on a picnic with Yukimura again. And pray for rain.

END

A/Note: Time to concentrate on some SaiChi now, but that was fun to write! (Totally gratuitous and obscure humour, but I wonder if MC likes Pina Coladas?)