Counterattack
By EmptyWord
Summary: It is inadvisable to taunt the Wolf of Mibu under any circumstances, but Sanosuke takes no one's advice. He likes provoking Saitou, even if he doesn't know why.
Warning: Language, sexual undertones, slight dominance/submission. Spur-of-the-moment drivel.
Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin is the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki and those to whom he has licensed his works, including without limitation Shueisha, SPE Visual Works, and Anime Works. No copyright infringement is intended. I am making no profit from this story.
The orange glow of the sun silhouetted the man's profile, his sharp features mellowed in the fading light. His head was tilted slightly downwards, his gaze cast into the distance. Against the backdrop of a setting sun, he was the very visage of serene nobility, and it irritated Sanosuke, angered him inexplicably. Was this the Wolf of Mibu described in so many tales of terror? Was this the intense, formidable man who had stabbed him in the shoulder and left him bleeding?
"You're a fraud," he sneered suddenly, wanting to shatter something. If he thought it'd do any good, he would've let his fists fly. As it was, Saitou's gaze flickered to him for a moment, and that was good enough.
"You think you're so much better than me, with so much more experience and control" – he spat the word like a long-harbored curse – "but you can't even see that you're the one stuck in the past."
Gloved fingers paused in their minute rolling motions around a single cigarette.
The sight startled a laugh out of Sanosuke. Leave it to the bastard to make passive-aggressive conversation. Well, he thought with a smirk, gaze trained to the sight of stark-white gloves, he knew how to force Saitou's hand. "You fool." He was delighted to see the fingers clench hard, once, around the cigarette. "Yes, a fool stuck in the past. Even with your western smoke and police uniform and creepy smile – you think any of that makes a difference? You think you can really pretend you're not the violent animal you are? You're trapped worst than Kenshin is, stuck in a world of blood and death and your stupid ideas of honor."
The man turned to face him, his profile suddenly lost in shadows. Sanosuke felt something heavy lurch in his chest as he searched the amber eyes. The sun was nearly gone now.
"None of that means shit any more, Third Captain of the Shinsengumi," he said with relish, each word spurring him on further. "The world's moved on. You're a relic. And don't think I can't see it." Satisfaction at completing his tirade was chased by immediate anticipation, a thick tension curling in his stomach as he watched for Saitou's reaction.
When it came, it was not the anger that he'd expected.
"Why is it that you push so hard, Sanosuke?" were the calm, measured words.
He started, and the wolf bared his teeth. "You will never understand me, yet you persist in wasting both our time with these foolhardy attempts."
Sanosuke glared. "How like you to avoid facing up to – " Before he could finish, he found a gloved hand pressed against his gullet, gripping his throat and choking off what words he'd intended. A familiar rush of adrenaline ripped through his body, laced with unmistakable triumph. Finally, he thought.
"Silence," said Saitou softly. "I am not required to explain myself, especially not to a simpleminded fool yet wet behind the ears. If you expect me to humor you this once, then you are not to interrupt." Stern amber snapped into defiant brown, and he tightened his fingers until Sanosuke's eyes closed in something sufficiently akin to acquiescence for him to loosen his hold. The other hand casually flicked the unlit cigarette to the ground.
"What insights you think you may have spouted would be utter nonsense to anyone not long aware of them, and you would do well to learn the difference between acceptance and avoidance. I may be a violent animal with stupid ideas of honor, but I am also an adaptable animal quite accustomed to the inexorability of change. My cigarettes are no more a pretense than the sword I wielded as a Shinsengumi. Or do you truly believe me a fraud, hiding like a coward behind the image of the law enforcement?" Speculation rose then in the golden eyes, and the next words were delivered in a lower tone, less measured, more inquisitive. "Or are your intentions much more personal than you would have me know? Are you deliberately provoking me, Sanosuke?"
Sanosuke felt the delicious coil in his lower abdomen tighten further, sending a spiral of heat whirling through his body. "Are you saying you're not? A coward?" he challenged, but there wasn't much force behind his words because he couldn't get enough air and his cheeks were darkening with the rush of blood and why was Saitou studying him like that, eyes roving over his cheeks and lips and further down and down to – dear God – the part of his anatomy that was reacting much too noticeably to the wolf's attention.
Saitou smirked, and Sanosuke trembled at the comprehension in his eyes. "So this is what you are after."
"Not everyone," he leaned in to whisper against Sanosuke's ear, "is willing to be as transparent as yourself."
"The hell – " said Sanosuke angrily, twisting against the cop's grip. "I am not transparent, and that has nothing to do – "
"No?" Saitou shifted a thumb to a throbbing pulse point beneath Sanosuke's arrogantly tilted chin. He didn't press, merely brushed lightly over the spot of skin, but Sanosuke's eyes widened at the implication. "Is this not what you wanted? Is this not the very reaction you were hoping from me?"
Desire, Sanosuke realized with no small amount of terror, was what these electric waves of heat were. And the worst of it was, Saitou had discovered before him this little fact about his traitorous body. "Let me go," he snapped, forcing through the panic clogging his throat. It was just like the bastard to take advantage of his weakness, to manipulate his body; it was just like him to hurt Sanosuke any way he could. Because there was absolutely no way Sanosuke wanted –
"To be dominated." The smirk was in full formation, but the voice that spoke was not so much amused as gravelly. Low and rough and scraping across every damn nerve Sanosuke hadn't even known he possessed. The hand around his throat tightened and the other came up to trace his cheekbones. Sanosuke could not help it if his lips parted; he could not help it if his breathing was quicker than normal. There was a hand around his throat, limiting air circulation, after all, and it was not his fault if his face tilted into the gloved caress; it was animal instinct to seek out warmth.
And then Saitou leaned in and bit him, hard, on the lower lip.
Gasping at the spark of pain, he jerked back, and the grip on his throat fell away, cold air rushing against his skin. All Sanosuke could manage to think amidst the whirl of sensation was, Fuck.
Smirking through the fallen shadows, cigarette long gone, Saitou told him, "I am not the one who needs to come to terms with his inner self."
A/N: Wow, you made it through that? Thanks for reading!
April 13, 2008