A/N: Oneshot is up!
Critiques are greatly appreciated
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN GINTAMA IT BELONGS TO SORACHI HIDEAKI
Enjoy~
Euphoria
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It is a hot, bitter summer night for Kagura as she pretends to be wrapped in the moon's white, kerosene glow on the rotting porch of the shinsengumi compound. She strains her eyes so hard in the dark until they start to lilt slowly-until they are half-lidded and still waiting, waiting, waiting for something to hit, waiting for something to occur, waiting for someone to come home. It feels like a number of years are slipping through her pale fingertips, and by the time the clock strikes ten, sleep starts to become a welcome thing. But those thoughts are ripped away from her once she hears a sudden thud and a gust of wind that makes her white cheongsam flutter just slightly above and beyond.
All at once, she is startled as her entire body tenses and her eyes shoot open, until she realizes that the only one who is in the room is a Sadist, and she is almost bewitched at this wolf in sheep's clothing when the corners of his mouth twitch and turn into something that only he has shown her, and his eyes are alive and God they are burning, burning, burning into her soul with the sort of hunger and need that she wants and is infatuated with.
And before Kagura even notices, the ball drops, the sky meets with the ground, and the gears turn. She feels feet closing the distance in between them and hands grabbing at her wrists, but her mind is blank once her back connects with the floor and there is a warm body on top of her; writhing, gripping, reciprocating until the distance is completely closed and she feels the chasteness and heat hit her all at once. Then it's a show for all; of lips and tongues and teeth mixed in with the tangle of feet and a blanket thrown in between—and it is during that moment Kagura is unable to yet again find words to describe the raw feelings blazing inside of her stomach.
There is something glorious in between them. Something unpolished, untouched, and unchanged in between the little things and the kerosene lights highlighting the heat and the sweat and the scars. And Kagura wonders whether or not it's because the Sadist is so many things at once. He is bitter tasting tobasco sauce in her mouth and a silent glow of fire that is deadly but so, very endearing; and just like that, it slips. Just like the looks he gives her and the feeling that he can see right through herself aggravates her so much it's almost laughable, but they might be the same after all. Like pieces of poorly stitched-up ribbons, they know what it's like to lose something, to bleed red on tiles, to know that it hurts to love and touch, but without so much regard to the consequences, they are sinners and they do it anyway.
They might be masochists after all. . .
But there is nothing masochistic or painful as to what they're doing right now. Because right now, Kagura is on cloud nine; the stars blazing above as the blanket is still miraculously draped over them as she can smell his scent as he can hers. And it's like they've been uncovered for the whole entire world to see. Imperfections and ugly scars and tears being unraveled for imaginary eyes as they practically bury themselves in the series of somethings and nothings and everythings in between each other until it almost becomes unbearable.
Glorious.
A part of Kagura's mind instantly agrees as they move against each other; the chasteness-turned lust writhes around in the form of discarded clothes and trailing hands filled with fire and feathered kisses, and Kagura feels the static and the blood rushing up to her cheeks. And just like that, the glass cracks and everything shatters into world-breaking endings and beginnings and the stars blaze overhead as everything grows hazy and moist and everything is just so imperfect Kagura thinks it's beautiful.
Because they are so ugly and tarnished they have to be covered in pretty masks that sometimes won't come off, they understand what it's like. Like drowning on nothing when you forget to breathe. And right now, their breaths comes so easily to them it almost becomes haggard and worn over too many times from overuse—but they don't care. The patchwork of condensed subjects on big brothers and sisters and hitokiris and monsters are things shoved into big boxes and slid into the corner of the universe until they become a thing of the past.
And it's a prime time for Kagura as she feels completely safe and at home and just alright in the large pair of arms that are wordlessly pulling her closer to the innocent warmth that she wishes she was born into.
"Sadist?"
His eyes open, and Kagura's breath catches in her throat because the kerosene lights don't miss a beat to flicker upon him; emphasizing everything he is and God he is beautiful and immortal and just Okita Sougo.
"We're fucked up."
He snorts, "You just realized that?"
Kagura lets her lips twist up into something lop-sided and warm, and she just knows that she'll be alright. And in-between the tiny bits of somethings, maybes, and everythings that she's always wanted, Kagura is euphoric.
A/N: Shortest fic I've ever written, but I had fun with it
Hope you guys liked it! Critiques are greatly appreciated, so feel free to PM me or leave a review if I messed something up
Til next story~