For War is Kind ~ Chapter 9
Sagara passed another week at the Aoi-Ya. He used to think it would be hard to return to a life like this, a peaceful life, after he had spent so many years with a blade in his hand. He had been wrong; quiet domesticity still suited him just fine.
Omasu kept him busy once she saw that he was back on his feet, but he didn't mind. He wanted to stay here as long as he could, and so he didn't mind earning his keep if it would buy him some time.
He didn't have anywhere else to go. He couldn't return home. By now, the reports of the Sekihoutai's fall and the rumors of his death must have reached there, and when he tried to imagine showing up at his door, explaining himself to a family he hadn't seen in six years... he couldn't even begin to find the words.
It was just as well. He had exhausted himself missing them already, and then he had learned to live without them, just as they had almost certainly learned to live without him. Surely they no longer grieved for their strange youngest son with gray dreamy eyes, whose mind sometimes wandered with the changing seasons. Going home now would only be painful for all of them.
He had been content, once, and he could be again, even if it wasn't in the same way. The past was too treacherous for him now, but if he pressed on, there just might be a place left for him.
He could survive, with that hope to sustain him.
Perhaps Shinomori Aoshi provided more of an incentive for him to stay than he would have cared to admit. The man was an enigma, and he liked that.
Every night, when he would slide back the panel to Sagara's room, his eyes smooth and hard as volcanic glass, he looked every bit as dangerous as Sagara knew he could be.
Sagara had learned that it was best to wait before touching him, and so when Aoshi showed up at his door that night, Sagara greeted him, as usual, with an easy smile. "I missed you today," he said smoothly, as he rose to make sure the panel was firmly closed. He turned, leaning his shoulder blades against the wall and folding his arms over his chest.
"I was busy. I didn't have time for you." Aoshi glanced over his shoulder. "What are you doing back there?"
Sagara bit back a grin. "Oh, nothing. And I know you were busy. Am I not allowed to miss you now?"
"I don't see why you would."
"Mmm, me neither." He started forward a few steps. "So you're saying I'm not allowed? Not even... a little?'
Aoshi turned slowly to face him. "You're teasing me," he accused.
"Am I?" He laughed softly. "Am I not allowed to tease you anymore, either?" He trailed two fingertips over Aoshi's left hip. "You're not leaving me with many options."
Aoshi held his eyes, but his hand drifted over Sagara's pinning it against the top of his thigh. "I came because..." Sagara leaned closer, and he turned sharply away. "Because..."
"Looks like I'm not the only tease here."
Aoshi balked, pulling back again, still not far enough to break the contact between them. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"It's all right." Sagara smiled, moving his hand against Aoshi's hip. His voice dropped to throaty whisper. "I like it when you tease me."
Their eyes met, and Aoshi gasped, as though realizing for the first time just how close Sagara was standing. He darted forward, pressing a quick, lopsided kiss to his lips. "I like the way you touch me."
Even knowing it might have been the most inappropriate thing he could have done, Sagara laughed. He slipped his arms around Aoshi's waist, drawing him into a real kiss. "I think more can be arranged."
Even more than being teased, he liked the way Aoshi bent beneath his hands and mouth. The way he always seemed so surprised when he was giving way beneath him. Sagara drew him forward, helping him out of his dark yukata.
He was changing a man. With every touch, every breath, every soft moan of elation muffled against a palm or the bend of a shoulder, Aoshi was revising his internal map of himself. Sagara knew that most of the work was already done; all that remained to be seen was whether it would be beneficial or not.
They finished quickly that night. It had been fast and dizzying, hard as the wall around Aoshi's eyes. Sagara would have called it desperate, but he knew better than that. More likely, Aoshi was just proud that he was getting the hang of this.
The younger man lay now on his back beside him, one arm crooked behind his head, the other idly tracing the curve of Sagara's thigh, running fleeting touches down to his knee, then back up again. Their clothes lay in a ring around the futon, hastily discarded, all but forgotten by now.
Aoshi shifted, then turned on his side, propping himself up on one arm. "Sagara, I'd like you to answer a question."
Sagara raised an eyebrow. He wasn't used to hearing that tone of voice. Hell, he wasn't used to hearing any tone of voice. Aoshi usually just rolled over - making sure he dragged as many of the blankets as possible with him - and fell asleep. "I'll try my best. What is it?"
"How long are you planning on staying here?"
That was a good question. One Sagara hadn't been expecting, but good nonetheless. "As long as you'll put up with me, I suppose. I know I don't have much to offer except for another pair of hands to help out around the place, but I'll do anything I can to..."
Aoshi leaned forward abruptly, kissing him into silence. "I was only curious. I just thought that since you're healed now, maybe there was somewhere you'd rather be."
"Healed..." Sagara echoed quietly. Then he shook himself, and recovered his good humor. "Are you sure about that? Maybe you should examine me?"
Aoshi's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. He stopped abruptly, seeming to feel some dormant stiffness in his limbs. He flopped onto his back once more. "Maybe in a few minutes."
Sagara laughed. "Right. Maybe in a few hours."
"Old man," Aoshi muttered, earning him a sharp poke to the ribs.
"Don't ever change," Sagara said.
"I wasn't planning on it."
"Good." Sagara shifted closer, resting his head on Aoshi's shoulder. His fingertips played over Aoshi's lips as though he expected to find a different expression there. They danced away in disappointment a moment later. "I just wanted to tell you... When I'm like this, with you, things seem quieter. More peaceful. I feel sometimes like we've been together a long time, like maybe I've always been here. Far away from violence, and deception."
Aoshi blinked. "What are you talking about now? I wonder sometimes what goes on in that head of yours."
"It's hard to explain." Sagara lifted his head a little, enough to brush his lips over Aoshi's cheek. "Never mind now. Let's get some sleep, all right? If you don't rest up, then how will you sneak out before I'm awake tomorrow morning?"
Aoshi's lips twitched, but fell away just short of a smile. Had Sagara been able to see it, he would have been entirely too pleased. "Are we married now or something?"
"Not a chance." But Sagara curled closer, looping an arm possessively around Aoshi's waist. "Don't tell me you're ready to settle down already." He kissed him again, on his neck this time. "Goodnight, Aoshi."
Aoshi reached up, laying a hand over the one on his chest. "Goodnight. Sagara."