Tears of Buddha
By Starhopper
Disclaimer:
WARNING: We've got lime, oh yes . . . earned a rating change too . . . read at your own risk
But life is full of risks . . . what's a little angelic metaphor gonna hurt?
The blood pounding in Misao's ears drowned out the shattering of a thousand thoughts in her head as his hands curved off her back and flowed along the backs of her thighs like liquid air. Through the material, his touch was just that more delicate than she had ever known fingers to be. So as they brushed against her knees, she willingly buckled under his caress.
Surrender, that was the only thought standing brilliantly over its broken comrades. Obeying her body, Misao slowly eased herself on her back just as Aoshi rose himself up on one leg to tip her back. His hands returned from their tentative trail along her limbs to catch her elbows and setting her down softly, moved himself over her. Senses became overcast by dark clouds of brilliant blue and sculpted scars as he brushed his chest against hers.
"Misao," he murmured against her jawbone while pressing kisses over the right side of her face. "You caught me," his mouth was suddenly hovering over hers, and Misao was aware for the first time that her eyes had closed when gravity pushed her against the floor. "Now I want you to - "
Catching his lips with hers, she groped vainly in her blindness in search of his shoulder blades. Hooking her fingers into their divisions, she pulled him up to settle his body tightly over hers.
"Lift me up," he whispered with some sense of triumph, now craning his neck down to stare directly into the closed lids. "But not –that- way," the sensation of sakura blossoms brushing against her eyes forced Misao to blink away the uncertainty she felt with his closeness. Her eyes found his half-lidded in a painful desire to hear her moan his name into the thunder growing somewhat more distant in the horizon.
"Hear the storm Misao?" one of his hands darted into the neck of the kimono that gaped so perfectly to invite his close embrace. She could feel it slide over her left breast then felt his fingers press into the flesh at her spine, bringing her back to arch voluntarily into his rapidly rising and falling chest. "Are you frightened?"
She barely nodded as his hand ran down the length of her body, coming to a natural position at her hip. At her imperceptible nod into the darkness, he stopped his careful positioning and looked at her. Shaking her head, she assured him, "It's breaking fast,"
He gasped and prepared to withdraw himself away from her. "Too fast?"
"No," finding her own hands at his shoulders, Misao let her fingers drift along his neck, under the fabric of his yukata, over the hard curve of his bicep, and along the sides of chest before bringing them back behind her. She smirked as he tilted his head with an endearing curiosity. With a giggle, she pulled the knot in the obi free and shook it off the side. "Not fast enough," she finished the move by gliding her fingers along the overlap in the kimono fabric and shyly pulled it open to reveal the true maturity he had been commiserating over for the past two years.
Emboldened by her disrobing, Aoshi pushed the rest of the cumbersome kimono away from her flesh, placing a rough kiss to every inch bared to him until they lay on a natural bed of silk. An engulfing kiss was landed over her lips as she rose on her arms to shrug out of the long sleeves. Misao could hear the rain now, hard and forceful against the resistance of the roof. Sliding the neck of his thin robe off his shoulders, she returned the favors by pressing her lips over the scars on his chest. Aoshi paused in his kisses to guide her hands along the overlapping pieces of fabric to his waist and let her pull the rest of the yukata off. As he tossed it to the side, he continued to move his mouth along every curve of her body, breaking contact once in awhile when she lurched against him to kiss a shoulder or nuzzle against his chest.
It was during those times that Misao could see the crashes of lightning creating the shadows of two lovers against the back wall, one softly lavishing his lady with both tender and caressing kisses while she lay under his touch, moving her hands up and down his chest, through and over his hair, around his neck, closing more gaps between their passion-ridden bodies than allowing others to open.
"You're beautiful . . . Misao," the words came without great pain of acknowledgement, but with a tone of self-loathing. Her fingers pressed softly at the corners of his mouth, hoping to ease the grimace that had suddenly appeared. "I-I'm so sorry for-"
His eyebrows rose in surprise as the same placating fingers slid across his lips, and she shook her head. "No, say nothing. We're here now . . ." Misao coughed to taste the words hiding at the back of her throat. Somewhat shyly, she added, "You're here now."
Unexpectedly, Aoshi dipped his head down to capture her mouth in a kiss that scored her soul to the core and drove back any thoughts of stopping this overwhelmingly mad sense of peace and at the same time, inner chaos. As he withdrew, he smiled at the complete look of bliss that she knew she couldn't hide so why try. "I'm here, there's no need to be frightened." He whispered into her ear before tracing the outer cartilage with the tip of his tongue. "Is there?"
Misao couldn't stop the tremors that started in her legs as he rubbed his knee against own, parting her legs to allow a more intimate and comfortable position for them both. Glancing into his eyes again for reassurance, the ninja shook her head at his question. No, no need to be frightened. Her beloved was here to wrap her mind and self around . . . to give herself to.
Another smile graced his features as he pressed kisses to her slowly warming and reddening skin, passing over her body just as a rain shower floats over the landscape, leaving traces of its trail around the mountains and valleys. The earth shuddered with the euphoric atmosphere they had created as she strung herself about him, determined not to close her eyes and lose herself in the moment this time. All the while his eyes were set and searching, and she fully allowed all she contained to be stripped of still crumbling defenses. She fought off the painfully slow pressure rising deep within her by arching her back and squeezing her knees tight into his upper thighs, hoping with some primal hope that he would fill her entirely, sate the need completely. When at last, sea met exulting blue sky as rifts between self and body were thrown inside one another. A single spark of fire ignited from a recent lightning strike outside their four walls illuminated the pair as they writhed together as one.
The hand lying at her hip twitched as they began to move to the rhythm of the storm drifting over the world. Drops of water running along the roof were dripping off his nose and sliding over her face as they broke free from the spiritual and rose through the storm to pierce the clouds with a resonating a cry. Higher and higher they soared, until tangled about each other, they dropped to the floor coated in silk. Heart beating in time with gasps and pants, Aoshi began again to lift her higher on wings bred of heat and with great sweeps of his tongue against her skin as the ceiling swirled high above her, preparing for a final ascension into the light. Climbing higher and higher, faster and faster, she was sped to the very peak of her desire. Her body reacted to the sudden pressure with a shiver, one that he soothed oddly by rolling onto his back. From somewhere outside of her flight, fingertips rocked her at her hips while agreeable masculine groans of her name overrode the discontent of storm clashes on the horizon. The sensation forced her to break through the blanket of stars and stare down at this man who had thrown her to the sky. It was here that she closed her eyes, giving a shrill scream to the little death that flashed darkly through her soul and wracked her body with a sudden and shared exhaustion.
As quick as the push to the top had been, Misao fell off the peak with as much speed, if not faster. Aoshi caught her and set her back into the silken pool of cream and bleeding blue, pressing soft kisses and humming soft murmurs to accompany the even breathing and even softer sighs of his beloved. Crawling across the floor with a great show of strength in the face of a forceful orgasm, Aoshi managed to shake the futon free of his crossed kodachi and unfolded it in the name of decent comfort. He then gathered the limp form of his little Misao and placing her onto the wonderfully soft mattress, yanked a blanket from its hanging on the wall and covered them both in warmth. With a few glances escaping in his direction, Misao felt herself succumb to the power of blissful slumber. But not before she pulled herself to his side, draping a lazy left arm over his chest and nestling her head into the crook of his shoulder.
One last kiss was pressed to her forehead as sleep poured itself into every pore.
The rest of the night, now silent from both mind's and passion's musings, passed quickly over Aoshi's closed and twitching eyes as he sought to understand.
He had pulled away, and she had followed. He had forced himself at a distance to not touch her, and she had only drawn him into her arms. He had lain her down on the floor, had made love to her with as much tender passivity and as much alert reaction as any daydream had foretold. And he had flown with her, raising her, then himself on the euphoric wind created with every motion, every sensation. Then he had peaked alongside her and fallen to the ground without impact.
"Never before," he whispered aloud into the thick silence of the dark room that would never tell of the wonderful rhythm that had thrummed at its floors. The sense of calm at knowing he had truly been caught, then uplifted and that it was all at her hands placated the rising hackles of guilt. He had brought her to a breaking point and had delighted in how he made her rock and toss to pierce rays of light through his overcast sky. The cry had shaken him from the distinctly male satisfaction aroused by bringing a woman to ecstasy. And at the same time, he was cowed by the way those oceans she called eyes roiled on him right before pushing them both to the edge.
"Never again," Misao added sadly into his ear, before loosening her possessive hold on his chest and moved to get up, though her legs among other muscles screamed in protest. Settling into a dejected kneel by his side, she hung her head and tried to unsuccessfully hold back the tears.
"No," it was a breathless plead as his hand shot out to stop her, letting it fall wherever Kami wished. He touched the bruises at her hip, and drew his hand back as if it had been scalded. Reminders of his satisfaction seared his mind and forced him to shake his head. "That-That's not what I meant."
"Really?" she looked up and into his eyes, making him melt into a complete and utter festering pile of self-loathing. Was that fear glittering at the corners of her eyes? And pain? Had he hurt her again?
In answer, he pulled her into his lap, his hands stroking any part of her in an effort to still her quaking form. He stopped his palm over her heart and touching his forehead to hers, smiled a dazzling smile for her despite his worries.
"You didn't let me say it before," he started softly, his thumb slowly rounding the sides of her breast in an absent-minded caress, though he knew a part of her afterglow had brightened with his attention. "I'm sorry, for what I've done, and what I was about to do to you." In the back of his mind his reasoning pounded at the table forefront to his actions, demanding that the last apology be rescinded. He wasn't the only one secreting the heat and building the tensions between them purposefully to drive either one wild.
Misao was silent as his fingers moved away from her chest and combed through her long hair. Uncomfortable silence waged war between the want for her to insert a thought and the need to be enveloped in her body one more time before the sun rose and dried the rain from the blades of grass. The storm had broken, but the sun had yet to come running from its brilliant hiding place in the clouds.
Coming upon his own anguish point, Aoshi stilled his nerves as the woman he held finally swallowed and took a deep breath. "You're wrong about one thing Aoshi," she started by suddenly turning her position to press chest to chest, twisting her torso so that her legs curled tightly about his waist. "I'm not sorry." Before he could say another word in protest, she cut him off. "I'm not sorry for anything that you've done. I am sorry that it took you this long to realize I was here for you to fall on." With a somewhat coy smirk she giggled, "And you sure fell on me."
"Through you, on you, over you, into you." He breathed over her face as his hands drifted over her bare back, tightening their grip at her waist. "If only to fall again to have the sensation of being lifted up, I'd do it three thousand times over." Tone turning to marvel, Aoshi found his eyes wandering over her features, stealing glances at every inch of skin, and there were a lot of inches to cover.
"I don't know if I could stand to wait three thousand times," playfully pouting, Misao kissed his bottom lip, lingering over the area until he moved his head to meet her mouth with a ferocious return. The kiss left her licking her lips appreciatively. "One time nearly killed me,"
"Emotions are something I can't give voice to," he confessed with a face suddenly staunch and hard as granite. "But there are," he paused, his fingertips drawing sensuous circles into her back as he laced his words with the dark lust that had been rising since taking her into his arms one more time. "But I think you know what I'm feeling holding you like this,"
Misao was about to respond with just as much enthusiasm as being asked to bring her savior his tea every morning when his hands slid up under her arms and prepared to raise her just as high, if not higher than their last flight. And he would wing his way beside her, and fall tangled within her into the rays of a new light.
Aoshi broke the stone façade with a smile that glowed and shined like the wicked grin of the sun when it realizes it has come out of the storm unscathed.
Misao sunk deeper within the embrace she was held in, determined to escape the morning rays of light skating their way between doorway and shoji, across the floor, dodging the hastily tossed kimono and equally soaked yukata, and finally coming to a stop on the wall above her head. But not before they delighted in a dance over her eyes.
"Stupid morning," she growled softly into her lover's shoulder, sure that her all-time protector would stop the assault with an order barked out of frustration. "Aoshi make the sun go away,"
He turned his back to the door, sheltering her little body with his own from the offending morning. "Better?" he asked in a garbled monotone, clearly not ready to be woken from sleep yet.
She nodded into his chest as she pressed herself close against him. "Can you always stop the morning?"
"If I wasn't so tired, I'd be able to shut the door." A clear blue eye opened to admire her sarcastic smile of wonder. The other one opened slowly as a grin formed upon his lips. "But for some reason I don't even want to move."
Agreeing with him, Misao tugged the blanket tighter about herself and shivered, but didn't appear to be cold. On the contrary she was hot and sticky with sweat that hadn't had a chance to dry before another layer started to coat it. Then another, and another, and . . .
"Cold?"
His question left her fumbling for reality as the sun, angered at her attempt to avoid its emissaries, promptly lit the room up through the paper shoji.
Shaking her head, she giggled. "Excited, and a little scared. The morning's waiting for us, but there's also a whole world behind it," Misao swallowed, the next words becoming muffled with a turn of her head into the crook of his neck. "Where do we go from here?"
"Where do you want to go Misao?"
"Straight into your arms to hide from it," she didn't bother to bite her tongue before the words just slipped out of her mouth of their own volition. She suddenly realized why her other friends had avoided creating intimate relationships. There was so much uncertainty in a future shared with your best friend. With the man you shared so much history with, it might take a little more effort to forget the past in order to focus on the present flights of passion, fascination, and maybe even family.
"I'll hold you until you learn to look beyond the ugliness that exists in the world, and accept the beauty in a flower coming to bud, spreading its leaves, and finally blooming into a wondrous night." His left thumb and forefinger caught her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "I have and the world holds so much more promise for happiness than I ever thought possible."
"Because of me?"
He nodded with a soft smile, a smile that touched something deep within her and left it tingling at its delightful warmth.
"I could bathe in that smile you know," she returned his smile with one of her own.
"It's yours," his eyes hardened to a determined light blue that wasn't quite ice, nor liquid either. "It always has been," pulling her mouth to his, Aoshi suddenly noticed that her lips were still well swollen from their sudden flurry of activity last night, and decided to press a feather- light kiss over her mouth. He smiled with great abandon as her tongue brushed against his, and he suddenly turned lucid again as he reacted to her advance with one of his own. At last they broke apart, causing Misao to lie on her back and finger the gray bangs that hung into his eyes. With her playing, he couldn't help but beam at how comfortable she felt with him, even considering the cough circumstances.
"I want to go with you," he brushed some strands of hair from her own eyes. "Wherever you go, I want to be with you, guiding you, tasting your decisions as if they were my own."
"Could you say that without smiling?" she asked with a childish curiosity.
Smirking, he shook his head, adding, "Nope, absolutely not,"
"I can't imagine you without me," She caught his hand from the tender pulling at her tresses and stared hard into his elusive blue eyes. "I can't live without you Aoshi, I wouldn't want to."
"I don't think I could stand the thought of not having you in my life," looking over his shoulder, Aoshi regarded the world waiting beyond the doors to their safe and secure haven. "But in order to live, we must step outside. Just this once everything will be different. Just this one morning you'll have to face with some fear. But once we're standing before all, this one morning will fade into memory."
With a resolute nod in agreement, Misao let him rise to dress, fingers trailing the veins in his hand as he stood up from the comfort of the futon. He came back to fold her into the sheet again before darting through the door. Quelling the shouts of muscles furiously exhausted kept her busy until he returned with a fresh kimono and loincloth that he proffered without a word.
She took the clothes in exchange for her modesty blanket, which he held with arms wide apart to facilitate her hurried change. Under the cool repose, she caught him running his eyes over her body one too many times in appreciation. Having tied the obi in a simple knot, she tilted her hair to pool over one shoulder and began to separate the strands into pieces for her signature braid. Her Okashira dropped the wall of Jericho between them and grabbed her busy hands in his. Shaking his head, Aoshi directed her attention to the moment ahead.
"Let them see you as I see you." He took a step closer, kicking the blanket out of his way. His pointer finger glided along her jaw that had somehow firmed to a mature line overnight. He then traced the round breasts and lithe form hiding beneath the boxy kimono with the same finger. Doubling back to her face from whence it began, he bent to place a kiss to her chin, then drifted his lips up to hers as a sign of reassurance.
Standing back he admired her beauty in all its womanly prowess. He had been a fool, would always continue to be a fool for misinterpreting every thing about her as that of a child's. Why, he could take her in his arms and strip her free of the kimono again without protest. It would also delay the inevitable.
"Ready?"
"Yes," she then placed her fingers over his palm and nearly drew back at the almost imperceptible tremor running through his body. Aoshi, her Aoshi was just as nervous to step outside as she was. "Aoshi, swallow some of your own advice for my sake," she soothed with a smile as her other hand glided over his wrist and hovered over the cerulean veins.
She didn't have to stare into his lidded eyes for long while her thumb gently massaged the lines from his skin. He bent and placed a chaste kiss to her forehead that sent her reeling back into the past. As a baby, as a toddler, as a young girl, as a woman, and as his lover she had treasured this gentleness, this radiant placidity that emanated from the tall and mysterious man who now waited to escort her into the future.
Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck and hugged him hard. A different form of euphoria overwhelmed Misao as she was lifted high into his embrace when Aoshi stood to his full height. Burying his face in her hair, she could hear him breathe in, then exhale in a meditative breath. He set her back down, and without another word, turned toward the door. Grabbing her hand in his, he led her through the doorway between the storm and clear skies.
Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Okina eyed the two souls separated and brought together by the tears of Buddha now standing at the edge of uncertainty. He knew their fears were warranted, falling in love and being love was never easy. Not even for someone as lively as Misao. Or for someone so unused to living as Aoshi was.
"Commiserating over the past will never do," he coughed under his breath, drawing his hands behind his back and shaking his head. Behind his objection to their anxiousness stood several exceptions to that rule. Judging from the Aoiya's dumb luck when it came to failing miserably at protecting loved ones from the turbulence of the outside world, there were certainly foes to fear. There might be more battles to fight, more tears to cry, more children to defend, but even those fears combined with the little things that popped up in everyday life could never deter people as stubborn as his Okashira and his ninja.
"Well, if there is nothing to fear from us, why don't you greet them?"
Okina turned at the voice and found a horde of waiting smiles pleading at him from the faces of all the Oniwabanshuu. Damn his foggy thoughts . . . age never cleared focus from what was present on the mind.
He nodded much to the girls' nods and the men's grunts of approval. Turning on his heel, Okina began to walk at a steady pace across the yard, keeping a knowing smile firmly tucked under his mustache. As he approached the bridge, he rose a hand and waved to the couple standing on the porch, and called out the most cheerful "Good Morning!" he had ever heard himself say before.
Finally shaken from their frightened stupor, the two lovers strolled with a brisk step to join him at the center of the bridge. Once there, Okina took Misao into his arms in a polite show of affection, and after standing back to admire this woman who'd grown up right in front of his very eyes, chose the final moment to shoot Aoshi a wink. He then let Misao drift back Aoshi's side, smiling with a good natured, "Nice of you two to finally get up, there's work to be done after all!"
"I know," Misao bit her lip and looking flustered, shuffled her feet guiltily. "There's dishes to be washed, customers to be served, and then there's the laund-"
"Nothing of the sort!" Okina snorted. Seeing the surprise on his adopted grand-daughter's face, he continued, "On the contrary, there's flowers to be picked, lanes to be strolled, and of course futons to be folded." He winked again. Misao caught it with a blush that dyed her entire face beet- red.
"Go on," walking behind them, Okina put a hand on each back and attempted to push them onward with their day. "Get on with your lives now and don't forget, we'll help you as much as you need it,"
"We'll need a lot of it," the old man heard Aoshi whisper to Misao as they twined their fingers together under the cover of long sleeves and giggles joined by deep chuckles.
"They won't need much," Okina grinned to himself, cocking his head to marvel at the pair as they walked toward the baths. "As for the rest of you," his gaze shifted to the pairs of couples who had been eying each other as if thoughts of breaking a storm of their own had come into mind just with the appearance of the new lovers. "It might take more time,"
But for Aoshi and Misao, it was just time enough.
And that's all she wrote! Well, maybe not, I have an idea in mind for an epilogue, but that will have to come after Finals . . . which is what I should have been doing instead of finishing this puppy up. Drop a review if you'd like to see one (it'd be cute and fluffy, promise!) or if you want to congratulate me on finally finishing a multi-chapter fic. Any comments are appreciated, even to flame me on my metaphors! laughs
Thanks for reading, 25 reviews is quite impressive for this fic borne from idle daydreams about a storm, the icicle, and the weasel.
Starhopper
By Starhopper
Disclaimer:
WARNING: We've got lime, oh yes . . . earned a rating change too . . . read at your own risk
But life is full of risks . . . what's a little angelic metaphor gonna hurt?
The blood pounding in Misao's ears drowned out the shattering of a thousand thoughts in her head as his hands curved off her back and flowed along the backs of her thighs like liquid air. Through the material, his touch was just that more delicate than she had ever known fingers to be. So as they brushed against her knees, she willingly buckled under his caress.
Surrender, that was the only thought standing brilliantly over its broken comrades. Obeying her body, Misao slowly eased herself on her back just as Aoshi rose himself up on one leg to tip her back. His hands returned from their tentative trail along her limbs to catch her elbows and setting her down softly, moved himself over her. Senses became overcast by dark clouds of brilliant blue and sculpted scars as he brushed his chest against hers.
"Misao," he murmured against her jawbone while pressing kisses over the right side of her face. "You caught me," his mouth was suddenly hovering over hers, and Misao was aware for the first time that her eyes had closed when gravity pushed her against the floor. "Now I want you to - "
Catching his lips with hers, she groped vainly in her blindness in search of his shoulder blades. Hooking her fingers into their divisions, she pulled him up to settle his body tightly over hers.
"Lift me up," he whispered with some sense of triumph, now craning his neck down to stare directly into the closed lids. "But not –that- way," the sensation of sakura blossoms brushing against her eyes forced Misao to blink away the uncertainty she felt with his closeness. Her eyes found his half-lidded in a painful desire to hear her moan his name into the thunder growing somewhat more distant in the horizon.
"Hear the storm Misao?" one of his hands darted into the neck of the kimono that gaped so perfectly to invite his close embrace. She could feel it slide over her left breast then felt his fingers press into the flesh at her spine, bringing her back to arch voluntarily into his rapidly rising and falling chest. "Are you frightened?"
She barely nodded as his hand ran down the length of her body, coming to a natural position at her hip. At her imperceptible nod into the darkness, he stopped his careful positioning and looked at her. Shaking her head, she assured him, "It's breaking fast,"
He gasped and prepared to withdraw himself away from her. "Too fast?"
"No," finding her own hands at his shoulders, Misao let her fingers drift along his neck, under the fabric of his yukata, over the hard curve of his bicep, and along the sides of chest before bringing them back behind her. She smirked as he tilted his head with an endearing curiosity. With a giggle, she pulled the knot in the obi free and shook it off the side. "Not fast enough," she finished the move by gliding her fingers along the overlap in the kimono fabric and shyly pulled it open to reveal the true maturity he had been commiserating over for the past two years.
Emboldened by her disrobing, Aoshi pushed the rest of the cumbersome kimono away from her flesh, placing a rough kiss to every inch bared to him until they lay on a natural bed of silk. An engulfing kiss was landed over her lips as she rose on her arms to shrug out of the long sleeves. Misao could hear the rain now, hard and forceful against the resistance of the roof. Sliding the neck of his thin robe off his shoulders, she returned the favors by pressing her lips over the scars on his chest. Aoshi paused in his kisses to guide her hands along the overlapping pieces of fabric to his waist and let her pull the rest of the yukata off. As he tossed it to the side, he continued to move his mouth along every curve of her body, breaking contact once in awhile when she lurched against him to kiss a shoulder or nuzzle against his chest.
It was during those times that Misao could see the crashes of lightning creating the shadows of two lovers against the back wall, one softly lavishing his lady with both tender and caressing kisses while she lay under his touch, moving her hands up and down his chest, through and over his hair, around his neck, closing more gaps between their passion-ridden bodies than allowing others to open.
"You're beautiful . . . Misao," the words came without great pain of acknowledgement, but with a tone of self-loathing. Her fingers pressed softly at the corners of his mouth, hoping to ease the grimace that had suddenly appeared. "I-I'm so sorry for-"
His eyebrows rose in surprise as the same placating fingers slid across his lips, and she shook her head. "No, say nothing. We're here now . . ." Misao coughed to taste the words hiding at the back of her throat. Somewhat shyly, she added, "You're here now."
Unexpectedly, Aoshi dipped his head down to capture her mouth in a kiss that scored her soul to the core and drove back any thoughts of stopping this overwhelmingly mad sense of peace and at the same time, inner chaos. As he withdrew, he smiled at the complete look of bliss that she knew she couldn't hide so why try. "I'm here, there's no need to be frightened." He whispered into her ear before tracing the outer cartilage with the tip of his tongue. "Is there?"
Misao couldn't stop the tremors that started in her legs as he rubbed his knee against own, parting her legs to allow a more intimate and comfortable position for them both. Glancing into his eyes again for reassurance, the ninja shook her head at his question. No, no need to be frightened. Her beloved was here to wrap her mind and self around . . . to give herself to.
Another smile graced his features as he pressed kisses to her slowly warming and reddening skin, passing over her body just as a rain shower floats over the landscape, leaving traces of its trail around the mountains and valleys. The earth shuddered with the euphoric atmosphere they had created as she strung herself about him, determined not to close her eyes and lose herself in the moment this time. All the while his eyes were set and searching, and she fully allowed all she contained to be stripped of still crumbling defenses. She fought off the painfully slow pressure rising deep within her by arching her back and squeezing her knees tight into his upper thighs, hoping with some primal hope that he would fill her entirely, sate the need completely. When at last, sea met exulting blue sky as rifts between self and body were thrown inside one another. A single spark of fire ignited from a recent lightning strike outside their four walls illuminated the pair as they writhed together as one.
The hand lying at her hip twitched as they began to move to the rhythm of the storm drifting over the world. Drops of water running along the roof were dripping off his nose and sliding over her face as they broke free from the spiritual and rose through the storm to pierce the clouds with a resonating a cry. Higher and higher they soared, until tangled about each other, they dropped to the floor coated in silk. Heart beating in time with gasps and pants, Aoshi began again to lift her higher on wings bred of heat and with great sweeps of his tongue against her skin as the ceiling swirled high above her, preparing for a final ascension into the light. Climbing higher and higher, faster and faster, she was sped to the very peak of her desire. Her body reacted to the sudden pressure with a shiver, one that he soothed oddly by rolling onto his back. From somewhere outside of her flight, fingertips rocked her at her hips while agreeable masculine groans of her name overrode the discontent of storm clashes on the horizon. The sensation forced her to break through the blanket of stars and stare down at this man who had thrown her to the sky. It was here that she closed her eyes, giving a shrill scream to the little death that flashed darkly through her soul and wracked her body with a sudden and shared exhaustion.
As quick as the push to the top had been, Misao fell off the peak with as much speed, if not faster. Aoshi caught her and set her back into the silken pool of cream and bleeding blue, pressing soft kisses and humming soft murmurs to accompany the even breathing and even softer sighs of his beloved. Crawling across the floor with a great show of strength in the face of a forceful orgasm, Aoshi managed to shake the futon free of his crossed kodachi and unfolded it in the name of decent comfort. He then gathered the limp form of his little Misao and placing her onto the wonderfully soft mattress, yanked a blanket from its hanging on the wall and covered them both in warmth. With a few glances escaping in his direction, Misao felt herself succumb to the power of blissful slumber. But not before she pulled herself to his side, draping a lazy left arm over his chest and nestling her head into the crook of his shoulder.
One last kiss was pressed to her forehead as sleep poured itself into every pore.
The rest of the night, now silent from both mind's and passion's musings, passed quickly over Aoshi's closed and twitching eyes as he sought to understand.
He had pulled away, and she had followed. He had forced himself at a distance to not touch her, and she had only drawn him into her arms. He had lain her down on the floor, had made love to her with as much tender passivity and as much alert reaction as any daydream had foretold. And he had flown with her, raising her, then himself on the euphoric wind created with every motion, every sensation. Then he had peaked alongside her and fallen to the ground without impact.
"Never before," he whispered aloud into the thick silence of the dark room that would never tell of the wonderful rhythm that had thrummed at its floors. The sense of calm at knowing he had truly been caught, then uplifted and that it was all at her hands placated the rising hackles of guilt. He had brought her to a breaking point and had delighted in how he made her rock and toss to pierce rays of light through his overcast sky. The cry had shaken him from the distinctly male satisfaction aroused by bringing a woman to ecstasy. And at the same time, he was cowed by the way those oceans she called eyes roiled on him right before pushing them both to the edge.
"Never again," Misao added sadly into his ear, before loosening her possessive hold on his chest and moved to get up, though her legs among other muscles screamed in protest. Settling into a dejected kneel by his side, she hung her head and tried to unsuccessfully hold back the tears.
"No," it was a breathless plead as his hand shot out to stop her, letting it fall wherever Kami wished. He touched the bruises at her hip, and drew his hand back as if it had been scalded. Reminders of his satisfaction seared his mind and forced him to shake his head. "That-That's not what I meant."
"Really?" she looked up and into his eyes, making him melt into a complete and utter festering pile of self-loathing. Was that fear glittering at the corners of her eyes? And pain? Had he hurt her again?
In answer, he pulled her into his lap, his hands stroking any part of her in an effort to still her quaking form. He stopped his palm over her heart and touching his forehead to hers, smiled a dazzling smile for her despite his worries.
"You didn't let me say it before," he started softly, his thumb slowly rounding the sides of her breast in an absent-minded caress, though he knew a part of her afterglow had brightened with his attention. "I'm sorry, for what I've done, and what I was about to do to you." In the back of his mind his reasoning pounded at the table forefront to his actions, demanding that the last apology be rescinded. He wasn't the only one secreting the heat and building the tensions between them purposefully to drive either one wild.
Misao was silent as his fingers moved away from her chest and combed through her long hair. Uncomfortable silence waged war between the want for her to insert a thought and the need to be enveloped in her body one more time before the sun rose and dried the rain from the blades of grass. The storm had broken, but the sun had yet to come running from its brilliant hiding place in the clouds.
Coming upon his own anguish point, Aoshi stilled his nerves as the woman he held finally swallowed and took a deep breath. "You're wrong about one thing Aoshi," she started by suddenly turning her position to press chest to chest, twisting her torso so that her legs curled tightly about his waist. "I'm not sorry." Before he could say another word in protest, she cut him off. "I'm not sorry for anything that you've done. I am sorry that it took you this long to realize I was here for you to fall on." With a somewhat coy smirk she giggled, "And you sure fell on me."
"Through you, on you, over you, into you." He breathed over her face as his hands drifted over her bare back, tightening their grip at her waist. "If only to fall again to have the sensation of being lifted up, I'd do it three thousand times over." Tone turning to marvel, Aoshi found his eyes wandering over her features, stealing glances at every inch of skin, and there were a lot of inches to cover.
"I don't know if I could stand to wait three thousand times," playfully pouting, Misao kissed his bottom lip, lingering over the area until he moved his head to meet her mouth with a ferocious return. The kiss left her licking her lips appreciatively. "One time nearly killed me,"
"Emotions are something I can't give voice to," he confessed with a face suddenly staunch and hard as granite. "But there are," he paused, his fingertips drawing sensuous circles into her back as he laced his words with the dark lust that had been rising since taking her into his arms one more time. "But I think you know what I'm feeling holding you like this,"
Misao was about to respond with just as much enthusiasm as being asked to bring her savior his tea every morning when his hands slid up under her arms and prepared to raise her just as high, if not higher than their last flight. And he would wing his way beside her, and fall tangled within her into the rays of a new light.
Aoshi broke the stone façade with a smile that glowed and shined like the wicked grin of the sun when it realizes it has come out of the storm unscathed.
Misao sunk deeper within the embrace she was held in, determined to escape the morning rays of light skating their way between doorway and shoji, across the floor, dodging the hastily tossed kimono and equally soaked yukata, and finally coming to a stop on the wall above her head. But not before they delighted in a dance over her eyes.
"Stupid morning," she growled softly into her lover's shoulder, sure that her all-time protector would stop the assault with an order barked out of frustration. "Aoshi make the sun go away,"
He turned his back to the door, sheltering her little body with his own from the offending morning. "Better?" he asked in a garbled monotone, clearly not ready to be woken from sleep yet.
She nodded into his chest as she pressed herself close against him. "Can you always stop the morning?"
"If I wasn't so tired, I'd be able to shut the door." A clear blue eye opened to admire her sarcastic smile of wonder. The other one opened slowly as a grin formed upon his lips. "But for some reason I don't even want to move."
Agreeing with him, Misao tugged the blanket tighter about herself and shivered, but didn't appear to be cold. On the contrary she was hot and sticky with sweat that hadn't had a chance to dry before another layer started to coat it. Then another, and another, and . . .
"Cold?"
His question left her fumbling for reality as the sun, angered at her attempt to avoid its emissaries, promptly lit the room up through the paper shoji.
Shaking her head, she giggled. "Excited, and a little scared. The morning's waiting for us, but there's also a whole world behind it," Misao swallowed, the next words becoming muffled with a turn of her head into the crook of his neck. "Where do we go from here?"
"Where do you want to go Misao?"
"Straight into your arms to hide from it," she didn't bother to bite her tongue before the words just slipped out of her mouth of their own volition. She suddenly realized why her other friends had avoided creating intimate relationships. There was so much uncertainty in a future shared with your best friend. With the man you shared so much history with, it might take a little more effort to forget the past in order to focus on the present flights of passion, fascination, and maybe even family.
"I'll hold you until you learn to look beyond the ugliness that exists in the world, and accept the beauty in a flower coming to bud, spreading its leaves, and finally blooming into a wondrous night." His left thumb and forefinger caught her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "I have and the world holds so much more promise for happiness than I ever thought possible."
"Because of me?"
He nodded with a soft smile, a smile that touched something deep within her and left it tingling at its delightful warmth.
"I could bathe in that smile you know," she returned his smile with one of her own.
"It's yours," his eyes hardened to a determined light blue that wasn't quite ice, nor liquid either. "It always has been," pulling her mouth to his, Aoshi suddenly noticed that her lips were still well swollen from their sudden flurry of activity last night, and decided to press a feather- light kiss over her mouth. He smiled with great abandon as her tongue brushed against his, and he suddenly turned lucid again as he reacted to her advance with one of his own. At last they broke apart, causing Misao to lie on her back and finger the gray bangs that hung into his eyes. With her playing, he couldn't help but beam at how comfortable she felt with him, even considering the cough circumstances.
"I want to go with you," he brushed some strands of hair from her own eyes. "Wherever you go, I want to be with you, guiding you, tasting your decisions as if they were my own."
"Could you say that without smiling?" she asked with a childish curiosity.
Smirking, he shook his head, adding, "Nope, absolutely not,"
"I can't imagine you without me," She caught his hand from the tender pulling at her tresses and stared hard into his elusive blue eyes. "I can't live without you Aoshi, I wouldn't want to."
"I don't think I could stand the thought of not having you in my life," looking over his shoulder, Aoshi regarded the world waiting beyond the doors to their safe and secure haven. "But in order to live, we must step outside. Just this once everything will be different. Just this one morning you'll have to face with some fear. But once we're standing before all, this one morning will fade into memory."
With a resolute nod in agreement, Misao let him rise to dress, fingers trailing the veins in his hand as he stood up from the comfort of the futon. He came back to fold her into the sheet again before darting through the door. Quelling the shouts of muscles furiously exhausted kept her busy until he returned with a fresh kimono and loincloth that he proffered without a word.
She took the clothes in exchange for her modesty blanket, which he held with arms wide apart to facilitate her hurried change. Under the cool repose, she caught him running his eyes over her body one too many times in appreciation. Having tied the obi in a simple knot, she tilted her hair to pool over one shoulder and began to separate the strands into pieces for her signature braid. Her Okashira dropped the wall of Jericho between them and grabbed her busy hands in his. Shaking his head, Aoshi directed her attention to the moment ahead.
"Let them see you as I see you." He took a step closer, kicking the blanket out of his way. His pointer finger glided along her jaw that had somehow firmed to a mature line overnight. He then traced the round breasts and lithe form hiding beneath the boxy kimono with the same finger. Doubling back to her face from whence it began, he bent to place a kiss to her chin, then drifted his lips up to hers as a sign of reassurance.
Standing back he admired her beauty in all its womanly prowess. He had been a fool, would always continue to be a fool for misinterpreting every thing about her as that of a child's. Why, he could take her in his arms and strip her free of the kimono again without protest. It would also delay the inevitable.
"Ready?"
"Yes," she then placed her fingers over his palm and nearly drew back at the almost imperceptible tremor running through his body. Aoshi, her Aoshi was just as nervous to step outside as she was. "Aoshi, swallow some of your own advice for my sake," she soothed with a smile as her other hand glided over his wrist and hovered over the cerulean veins.
She didn't have to stare into his lidded eyes for long while her thumb gently massaged the lines from his skin. He bent and placed a chaste kiss to her forehead that sent her reeling back into the past. As a baby, as a toddler, as a young girl, as a woman, and as his lover she had treasured this gentleness, this radiant placidity that emanated from the tall and mysterious man who now waited to escort her into the future.
Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck and hugged him hard. A different form of euphoria overwhelmed Misao as she was lifted high into his embrace when Aoshi stood to his full height. Burying his face in her hair, she could hear him breathe in, then exhale in a meditative breath. He set her back down, and without another word, turned toward the door. Grabbing her hand in his, he led her through the doorway between the storm and clear skies.
Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Okina eyed the two souls separated and brought together by the tears of Buddha now standing at the edge of uncertainty. He knew their fears were warranted, falling in love and being love was never easy. Not even for someone as lively as Misao. Or for someone so unused to living as Aoshi was.
"Commiserating over the past will never do," he coughed under his breath, drawing his hands behind his back and shaking his head. Behind his objection to their anxiousness stood several exceptions to that rule. Judging from the Aoiya's dumb luck when it came to failing miserably at protecting loved ones from the turbulence of the outside world, there were certainly foes to fear. There might be more battles to fight, more tears to cry, more children to defend, but even those fears combined with the little things that popped up in everyday life could never deter people as stubborn as his Okashira and his ninja.
"Well, if there is nothing to fear from us, why don't you greet them?"
Okina turned at the voice and found a horde of waiting smiles pleading at him from the faces of all the Oniwabanshuu. Damn his foggy thoughts . . . age never cleared focus from what was present on the mind.
He nodded much to the girls' nods and the men's grunts of approval. Turning on his heel, Okina began to walk at a steady pace across the yard, keeping a knowing smile firmly tucked under his mustache. As he approached the bridge, he rose a hand and waved to the couple standing on the porch, and called out the most cheerful "Good Morning!" he had ever heard himself say before.
Finally shaken from their frightened stupor, the two lovers strolled with a brisk step to join him at the center of the bridge. Once there, Okina took Misao into his arms in a polite show of affection, and after standing back to admire this woman who'd grown up right in front of his very eyes, chose the final moment to shoot Aoshi a wink. He then let Misao drift back Aoshi's side, smiling with a good natured, "Nice of you two to finally get up, there's work to be done after all!"
"I know," Misao bit her lip and looking flustered, shuffled her feet guiltily. "There's dishes to be washed, customers to be served, and then there's the laund-"
"Nothing of the sort!" Okina snorted. Seeing the surprise on his adopted grand-daughter's face, he continued, "On the contrary, there's flowers to be picked, lanes to be strolled, and of course futons to be folded." He winked again. Misao caught it with a blush that dyed her entire face beet- red.
"Go on," walking behind them, Okina put a hand on each back and attempted to push them onward with their day. "Get on with your lives now and don't forget, we'll help you as much as you need it,"
"We'll need a lot of it," the old man heard Aoshi whisper to Misao as they twined their fingers together under the cover of long sleeves and giggles joined by deep chuckles.
"They won't need much," Okina grinned to himself, cocking his head to marvel at the pair as they walked toward the baths. "As for the rest of you," his gaze shifted to the pairs of couples who had been eying each other as if thoughts of breaking a storm of their own had come into mind just with the appearance of the new lovers. "It might take more time,"
But for Aoshi and Misao, it was just time enough.
And that's all she wrote! Well, maybe not, I have an idea in mind for an epilogue, but that will have to come after Finals . . . which is what I should have been doing instead of finishing this puppy up. Drop a review if you'd like to see one (it'd be cute and fluffy, promise!) or if you want to congratulate me on finally finishing a multi-chapter fic. Any comments are appreciated, even to flame me on my metaphors! laughs
Thanks for reading, 25 reviews is quite impressive for this fic borne from idle daydreams about a storm, the icicle, and the weasel.
Starhopper