Role Reversal - A Rurouni Kenshin Drabble

By Rikkitsune

Hellooooo! -waves-

Here I am with yet another teaser - er - I mean DRABBLE! Yeah, that's it...

It's another 'morning after' scenario, but this one is a lot darker and edgier than Warm Light of Day. It's written in the universe of one of my as-yet-unpublished WIPs. If you go to my author profile, Onnarashii Gekido may ring a bell.

I've dedicated this to Ravyn, since it fulfills the criteria she set me originally for her drabble request. Enjoy, honey!

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or its characters. The drabble is mine.

WARNINGS: This drabble lives up to its M rating. Sexual references, alcohol abuse and weaponry. If you're underage, shoo, shoo! Everyone else, have fun!

When Kenshin opened his eyes, the effects of last night's drinking binge hit him like a sledge hammer.

Fuck. I drank too much. Way too much. Now I'm going to be slow as shit all fucking day. Hiko's gonna kick my ass.

With an irritated groan, Kenshin rolled onto his side and almost landed on top of the woman lying next to him. He stopped himself mid-roll and flung his weight backwards again, so his legs lay flat on the mattress while his torso was turned towards her.

He didn't want to wake her yet. Not before he'd had a good look anyway.

Kenshin took in her sleeping features with interest, quietly amused that the haze of his hangover had caused him to forget about her, albeit temporarily. He didn't even know her name.

In sleep, her features lost some of their hardness, particularly around the eyes and mouth. She was still insanely attractive when she was awake, of course, she wouldn't be sleeping next to him otherwise. However, unconsciousness lent her face a softness that made her appear more feminine.

She was completely naked, unabashedly sprawled out on her back. His black satin sheets were twisted around her slim, muscular legs, contrasting with the paleness of her skin, but perfectly matching the ebony of her hair.

She looked good in his bed.

She had felt good in his bed too, as he recalled. The longer Kenshin sat and observed her, the clearer the memory of last night's activities became. The sex had been wild, frantic, brutal and utterly satisfying. They had both been smashed out of their minds, but the alcohol had posed no hindrance to either of their sex drives.

Kenshin smirked to himself as he remembered that they'd fucked twice before they even made it to the bedroom; once against the back of his front door and again, doggy-style, sprawled across his dining room table. Her screams of pleasure had been music to his ears.

She was still sound asleep.

Easing gently into a sitting position (and ignoring the pounding in his head), Kenshin surveyed the bedroom with smugness. Torn scraps of clothing and used condoms were scattered across the wine-coloured carpet like some perverse parody of confetti. The curtains were drawn – one of them had obviously had the foresight to close them. Sunlight in your eyes first thing in the morning was never a great way to start the day, especially when you felt like you'd been flattened by a fucking steam-roller.

As his eyes slid back to his lover's prone form, a small patch of colour on her inner thigh caught his eye. Carefully balancing his weight on his knees, Kenshin leaned over her to get a better look.

It was a tattoo. A sakura petal, of all things, delicately inked onto her velvety skin. Kenshin knew that he'd conducted a… rather thorough examination of that part of her body the night before, but he'd obviously been too drunk to remember such a small detail. He would have to ask her about the significance of the sakura petal when she woke up. When they… talked. Kenshin suppressed a shudder.

As he moved away, he was momentarily distracted by a metallic glint on his bedside table.

My .45. Shit. It wasn't like him to be so careless – he always hid his weaponry carefully, in case he ever brought company back to his apartment. His prized possession, his daisho,was stowed carefully under the bed. All of his other guns were scattered in various nooks and crannies around the place.

All the women he'd screwed over the years had had no idea they'd been fucking an Aku Soku Zan assassin. Much less the boss' right-hand man.

The woman next to him began to stir, so Kenshin quickly yanked the bedside drawer open and dropped the gun inside.

"What are you doing?" Kenshin turned his head to find a pair of sleepy blue eyes regarding him with curiosity.

"You used up all my rubbers," he answered her, closing the drawer. "And you wrecked my handcuffs."

He was rewarded with a lazy, self-satisfied smile as the brilliant blue grew sharp and alert. "I didn't hear you complaining overly much about it last night," she retorted, sitting up. She grasped her mass of black hair and deftly twisted it into a knot at the base of her neck.

Kenshin noted with approval that she didn't seem to give a rat's ass that she was completely nude. Women who scrambled to cover themselves the morning after always gave him the shits.

But then again, he was completely nude as well. It was easier to slouch around in the buff when you had company.

"Hung-over?" he asked. He was dying for an aspirin, and it would seem a lot less weak if he was getting pain relievers for both of them.

"Nah," she answered, stretching. The movement lifted her breasts high and Kenshin tried not to leer. He wasn't so sure he succeeded.

"I've always been able to sleep off a hard night's drinking," she continued, lifting an eyebrow as she caught him staring. "You up for another round then?"

So it begins. The clinginess. Kenshin shrugged nonchalantly. "I have to get to work."

"Feh. Your loss." She stood up, caught side of the bedside clock and swore colourfully.

"What?"

"I gotta be somewhere. Like, right fucking now." She plucked her leather pants off the floor and tugged them on, not bothering with her underwear. She noticed the long rips in the legs and frowned slightly. Those had been her favourite pair of pants.

"Don't you want to shower?" Kenshin asked, slightly surprised. He'd half-expected her to be all emotional and have expectations about where their 'relationship' was heading. He'd thought that he'd have to let her down gently, disentangle himself from her and call her a cab.

It was one of the reasons he never took his one-night stands home with him. It was always messy the next morning. Last night had been a mistake, he admitted to himself, brought on by too much alcohol. He'd been too trashed to book a hotel room and had come home on auto-pilot.

That being said, the fact that this woman seemed to be as unconcerned as he usually was grated slightly against his male ego.

"I can shower at my own apartment," she answered distractedly, as she wrestled with her top. Backing up to him she asked "Can you do the laces?"

Slightly bemused, Kenshin did as she asked, threading and tightening the satin cords across her back that held her top closed. He'd had fun taking that top off with his teeth.

"Thanks," she stepped away from him and fished her shoes and purse out from among the debris littering the floor.

She was striding out towards the front door before he could say anything else, fully intending to leave. Feeling a bit annoyed, Kenshin followed her and caught her by the upper arm as she was reaching for the doorknob.

"You're just gonna leave?" he winced inwardly at the whininess in his tone.

She turned around, looking surprised. "Well, yes actually, that was the plan. I'm running late."

Frowning, Kenshin gave her arm a tug, but she didn't move. "At least eat something before you go."

He didn't want her to leave before he was ready for her to go. And he wasn't ready yet. The role-reversal was rattling him, but, even worse, it was also stimulating his interest.

"I don't eat breakfast," she said mulishly, trying to extricate her arm, but with no success. Kenshin just tightened his grip. "Look. I was under the impression that this was a one-night thing. Am I wrong?"

Kenshin assessed her steadily, looking for weaknesses. He'd be damned if he'd crack first. Still holding on to her arm, he answered her question with another: "Is that what you want?"

She shrugged, looking exasperated. "I don't know. You're a first class fuck. I wouldn't mind doing you again, if that's what you're asking."

There. He'd won that round. She'd cracked. "Give me your number," he demanded, letting her go.

She opened the door swiftly and slipped out before he could stop her.

"I don't give out my number," she said over her shoulder as she strode down the hallway. "My name is Keiko. If you want me, come and find me." Then she was gone.

After he'd stared after her for a good minute, Kenshin realised that he was standing in his doorway, in full view, without a stitch of clothing on. Angrily, he yanked on the door, letting it slam shut.

He was thoroughly irritated. Just when he thought he'd gotten the upper hand, she'd got one over on him. Fuck it all. He'd always been a bad sport.

This woman wasn't acting anything like the others he'd had before. Her 'I don't give a fuck attitude' matched his own perfectly, which, for some inexplicable reason, made his hackles rise.

She should care. Kenshin knew his own appeal all too well and the way women reacted to it. He wasn't the type you could just screw and leave. He was the one that did the screwing and the leaving.

Heading into the kitchen, Kenshin procured himself two aspirin and a glass of water.

He was going to track that Keiko down and make her care. She had no idea who she was tangling with. If she'd thought he wouldn't be able to find her, she was sorely mistaken. A Christian name gave him more than what he needed. He'd have her place under surveillance inside a week.

He was going to make her his so completely, she wouldn't even be able to breathe without his express permission. And then, when she was so far gone it was pathetic, he'd get rid of her in the most entertaining way possible.

Kenshin dropped the empty glass into the sink with a smirk and walked back into his bedroom to find some clothes.

Author's Notes

Good? Not so good? Crappy? Utter shit? I want to know! All (constructive) feedback is welcomed with open arms.