Title: Anniversary
              Author/pseudonym: Pluto
              Email address: lizcheng@umich.edu
              Rating:NC 17
              Fandom and Pairings: Sanosuke/ Aoshi
              Status: Done
              Author's website: http://www.umich.edu/~lizcheng
              Warnings: Pointless lemon to get the two prettiest RK
characters in bed :P

---------------------------Sano X Aoshi:
           Anniversary-----------------------------

"Ah, Aoshi!" Kenshin smiled, his eyes squinting up in pleasure.
"What are you doing back in Tokyo?"

Aoshi, a man of few words as usual, only smiled ever so slightly, and
nodded his head. "Himura." He glanced past Kenshin at the
ever-present Sanosuke, then entered the grounds of Kamiya Dojo.
Kaoru burst out of the dojo without seeing their new guest.
"Keeennnshiin!" she screamed. "I can't find my father's tea set!
Yahiko says you used it last!"

The red-headed samurai only smiled good-naturedly, and let himself
be dragged off by Kaoru. Aoshi cocked his head, his eyes amused.
Sanosuke, coming over to sit in front of the dojo, let out a grunt of
annoyance. "You'd think she'd treat Kenshin with more respect."

He thought of himself and Misao, and how Kenshin's relationship
with Kaoru was a lot like that. Misao was like his little sister, or his
daughter. His eyes smiled as he thought of her happy face..

"Do you wanna go drink sake or something?" Sanosuke interrupted
his reverie. 

"I don't drink sake."

The chicken-head shrugged, chewing on the fishbone in his mouth.
"Your loss," he grumbled, getting up. "Keep me company at least?"

Aoshi thought about it for a moment, then agreed. He didn't have
anything better to do, while Kenshin was being pushed around by
Kaoru. He could be gone for hours. At least he could sit and enjoy
the natural beauty of the dojo while that loud-mouthed boy amused
himself.

They plopped down outside one wall of the dojo, where the shrill
sound of Kaoru's voice couldn't reach them. The wind blew in the
singing of crickets and birds, seeking mates for the summertime.
Aoshi contemplated the peaceful things as Sanosuke helped himself
to jug after jug of Sake. He never felt compelled to ask "why" Sagara
Sanosuke felt so compelled to drink in the middle of the day, but the
boy gave him the answer anyways.

"Souzou," he muttered, slumping against the wall. He tipped the jug
against his lips. "Captain Sagara.."

Aoshi didn't speak, but he remembered the stories about the
Sekihoutai and what had happened to their leader. An injustice, as
always. The Meiji era was no less plagued by them than the former
era. The boy must feel that loss deeply.

Suddenly Aoshi found himself being pressed into the ground by the
younger boy, his bird's-nest hair brushing Aoshi's chin. Sanosuke
was hugging his chest, making soft, pained noises. "Sanosuke," the
okashira whispered, surprised. "Are you feeling alright? Perhaps I
should bring you inside?" He sat up, gently leaning the drunk boy up
against the side of the house. He tipped his head, trying to check how
drunk the boy was, and his bangs slipped sideways, falling over one
eye. 

Sanosuke's eyes, previously half lidded, flew open. "Captain...
Sagara!" He stared at Aoshi like he was a ghost. The leader of the
oniwabanshu hurriedly flicked his hair back into place, but the
younger boy didn't stop staring, convinced. "Souzou! How can it
be?!" 

"Sanosuke, it's just me, Aoshi." He tried to retain his calm, cool
exterior, but it was getting hard... Sanosuke was really closing in on
him. The closeness of that face, pressed so near his, the reek of
alcohol... Aoshi felt his stomach twist, his personal space terribly
violated. He tried to be gentle, but he pushed Sanosuke back firmly. 

"Captain... I missed you... It's been so hard... How did you get
away?" Sano's words were slurred and thick from the sake, his eyes
blurred and unfocused, filled with tears. His voice had taken a
decidedly younger tone. 

"Sanosuke, I'm not Sagara." He felt Sano's hands wrap around his
wrists, unwilling to let go. 

"I ... I thought you died... so many years ago, today... Why didn't
you come see me sooner?!" 

"Sano..." Aoshi's tone became a warning. He wasn't a highly trained
shinobi for nothing... 

"Captain Sagara, why are you being so cruel?" Aoshi watched
Sanosuke bite down on tears, a streak of blush forming across his
cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He'd seen that expression so
many times... on Misao's face... Aoshi felt his heart give a little twist
of sympathy. He had killed so often and heartlessly before, now he
seemed so weak and soft-hearted in comparison; and yet, he knew,
this was how he truly was. 

"You're drunk," he said, insistent, but softer. 

With a guilty glance at the empty containers of sake around him,
Sano nodded. "I'm sorry, Sagara..." 

Sighing, Aoshi stood, gripping Sanosuke's hand in his own. "It's
okay," he murmured, deciding it was easier to simply play along.
"Let's get you in bed, okay, and we can talk while you recover your
wits?" 

Blushing, a child caught at dirty-play by his master, Sanosuke tried
to stand, but his alcohol-sodden legs refused. Aoshi sighed again. He
stripped Sanosuke of his jacket and laid it down on the dusty
ground. "Just lie here, until I can find someone to help me." He
stood, meaning to go find Kenshin, but Sanosuke grabbed his wrists.

"Don't go, Captain Sagara..." 

Silently cursing himself for ever agreeing to drink with the boy,
Aoshi knelt by the other and placed his hand on the boy's forehead.
"You'll feel better if you sleep." 

Sanosuke smiled, his eyes slipping shut. He looked so beautiful, so
at peace when he slept. Nothing like that rowdy street punk that he
usually was. Aoshi bent over him, listening, waiting for his breathing
to become regular. Soft whispered mad-thoughts slipped from those
parted, pouty lips. Aoshi felt his breath catch in his throat, and
feelings that should never have been conceived blossomed up in his
chest and groin. He sat up hurriedly, shocked at himself. Perhaps,
just smelling all the alcohol....? 

"Don't... don't run from me..." Sanosuke droned, half-asleep, his
right hand hooking into Aoshi's shirt-front. 

Aoshi's eyes widened. "You don't know what you ask..." he gasped
fearfully. No... not like with... not again. 

"Souzou... since you've come back to me... I want you to have my
first..." 

The okashira recoiled, knowing too well what Sanosuke wanted. He
respected his master that much, that he would share his very virginity
with that man, so long dead?! "I'm not Souzou!" he almost screamed,
losing his normal pacific nature. He launched himself to his feet.
"Wake up, you fool! He's dead!" 

He watched the tears spill out from underneath those dark, thick
lashes. Disgusted, a little ashamed, Aoshi turned his head, not
wanting to watch Sanosuke lose his dignity. "But... Souzou... I see
you..." The shinobi looked back down, to see Sanosuke clutching the
fabric of his pant leg with the emotions of a man about to lose his
fantasy. "I love you Captain, so don't leave me again..." 

Aoshi's face reddened further. He shouldn't be the one to witness
this. He barely knew Sanosuke. Such a shameful display was better
kept private, or perhaps, shared only with very close friends, ones
who would *know* what to do in such a situation. "I'll go get
Kenshin," he stammered, urgently needing to remove himself from
this place, this embarrassment. 

"No... please don't... " There was a ragged, almost whimpered,
hesitation. "Aoshi..." 

The okashira stared down at Sanosuke in surprise. "Sanosuke...?" 

"I'll call you whatever you want, Captain, if you don't go!" 

Aoshi looked down at the boy, his face harsh. He waited until Sano's
warm, brown eyes locked on to his, their gaze barely focused.
Perhaps he really saw Souzou. It was possible, he had drunken so
much. "I won't go... if you tell me....Who do you think I am?" Then,
authoritatively: "Honestly." 

Sanosuke said nothing for a long moment, his mouth trembling in
hesitation, his eyes watering with a drunken unrestraint. Aoshi,
exasperated, turned to get up and leave, but the nineteen-year old
cleared his throat and gasped out, "Aoshi, I know you... I know you
aren't Souzou..." 

The dark-haired Oniwabanshu member returned to his kneeling
position next to Sanosuke. "I'm glad you finally see me, Sanosuke.
Now why don't you rest up and when you feel you can stand,
Kenshin and I can walk you home?" He almost smiled. Almost. 

The boy turned his head and buried it in the softness of his thin
jacket. He was so ashamed. But that moment... that moment that
Aoshi's hair had slipped, and fallen just so, just over one eye... He
had looked barely like Souzou, but.. but enough to make Sano's heart
wrench and his drunken mind slip... His boyhood crush, never
realized, could have been. The hot twist of desire in his chest was still
there, hungry, longing for the lips of another... Aoshi's palm came to
rest on his forehead, gently stroking the hair there. Ever the
gentleman, the elite Oniwabanshu was properly civilized, being the
guard of the highest class. Not like Sanosuke. But... perhaps...
somewhat like the gentle Souzou; a quiet, beautiful leader. Strong,
but able to care for a lonely child, a child longing for an idol and
lover... 

"My hero, my master," Sano whispered softly, pressing his cheek
against Aoshi's palm. Aoshi froze, praying that the other stayed out
of his drunken delusions. He just wanted Sanosuke to pass out, so
he and Kenshin could get him somewhere where he'd be safe until he
over came this episode. 

Wide brown eyes opened, searching for cold, green ones. "When
you look at Misao, do you ever care for her?" 

Care for Misao? Kenshin had been trying to push Misao on him too.
Aoshi laughed, softly, without much emotion. "Like a daughter. But
as a lover? No." 

"I don't... I don't think Captain Sagara would ever have looked at me
that way either..." The realization was bitter in the younger boy's
voice. "But I loved him, and I know I do, and I... I think I know how
Misao feels." Mocking. Sanosuke was mocking himself and Misao
for their feelings, so confused with admiration of their guardians.
Aoshi felt his soft heart again, and wished for it to go away. If only
he could return to that single-minded coldness he had once felt, he
could just escape this feeling, this desire to make Sanosuke feel
better. Truth be told, the boy was looking more and more appealing
to the shinobi as the moments slunk by. But... to give in to a man like
that... it was not something he would do ever... again. 

Sanosuke sat up, weakly, the aftereffects of the alcohol still loosening
his lips and diminishing his control. Aoshi was suprised that he was
still awake, after all he had drunk. He looked up at Aoshi, soft brown
eyes peering up at him from under that sweat-drenched red
headband. His eyes were hungry, imploring. "I don't blame her for
wanting you, even if she didn't have that father-respect thing going."
Aoshi realized Sanosuke had fallen to rest his weight on his hands,
looking up at the older man like an imploring prostitute might beg a
client who got off on power. Unable to move away, and unable to
move closer, Aoshi stilled, paralyzed by the closeness, by the
seductiveness on the punk-boy's face. 

The younger boy tilted his head, his chest heaving. Aoshi could see
his desire peaking through his thin, white pants. Such beautiful, long
lashed eyes, framed by wisps of soft, wild, brown hair. Those spiky
bangs that never blew out of his face, that delicately pointed nose, that
pouting, bratty mouth... Aoshi smelled the yeasty scent of sake
overlaying Sanosuke's soft breath, warm and moist on his cheek.
Sanosuke was going to... Sanosuke was going to... 

Shuddering with unwanted memory, Aoshi forced his body
backwards and away from the advancing lips of the drunken boy.
Those innocent eyes searched, found his, and transferred the deep
hurt that had knifed through him at this rejection. 

"I'm not going to hurt you, Lord Aoshi," Sanosuke respectfully
addressed the older boy. "But I... I can't cling to my dream any more,
Souzou is dead... and you're right here..." He teetered, leaning too
far, too drunk to realize it. His arm was ready to give, and launch him
face first into the dirt. 

I should just let him fall, he will probably sleep there, Aoshi thought
to himself. But still, his body would not move. He just sat there on
the hard, dusty ground, staring at Sano between his bent knees and
the robe draped over them, just as he had landed. Sanosuke's arm
gave, and he landed in that fold of cloth, his hair brushing through
the fabric to tickle Aoshi in his most sensitive spots. Aoshi heard
Sano whimper, a broken noise, brought on by drunkenness and
long-restrained pain. 

Unable to help himself, Aoshi cleared his throat and bent over to help
Sanosuke up. "Little Sano," he heard himself whisper, as he might
have to Misao, when he had cared for her. He bit back his long built
sense of manliness and made himself watch as Sanosuke wept
openly, the tears leaving little shining trails across the beautiful, tan
skin. He followed one with a gentle finger, intending only to wipe it
away, but Sanosuke turned his head, so that his finger trailed against
those soft, soft lips. On a natural instinct, one slipped its way
between the boy's lips and was hungrily embraced. Sano's tongue
flickered against the sensitive pads, his teeth bit gently on the delicate
white skin, and tingles of pleasure filled Aoshi. How he wanted...
How he wanted that mouth locked to his.. or wrapped around hi.. 

No! He couldn't do that to someone who looked up to him, depended
on him... And it wasn't even HIM that Sanosuke was really feeling
drawn to... He could hold him, would watch over him until he came
back to his senses... But he wouldn't let himself... 

Sanosuke's eyes opened, so wet and soft and hungry. Aoshi was
reminded of the hot pressure of Sano's body between his legs and
within his arms, so tantalizing. "Little Sanosuke," he whispered, and
the sound was more filled with want than he had ever meant it to be. 

"Souzou," Sanosuke responded, falling back into drunken fantasy.
Yes. It was better that way. If ... Sanosuke only thought it was his
beloved captain... Aoshi tilted his head down, met those open,
begging lips. His kiss was gentle, timid, but the feisty Sano gave with
all the fire and passion he used in every day life, responding with an
incredible ferocity and roughness. Aoshi felt that kiss burn through
his inhibitions and he gripped Sano's shoulders, devouring the
younger boy, pressing their faces as close as possible. Hardly timid,
Sanosuke groped along Aoshi's pants until he found the ties and
ripped them free, his hot lips and tongue burning Aoshi's skin along
his face, neck and shoulders. 

Who was the master, and who the admiring pupil? Aoshi thought,
stunned. His body was so hot, every inch of his skin tingling with
anticipation. His fingers came trembling to undo Sanosuke's pants,
loosening them, then slipping them over the other boy's slim hips. He
couldn't help but trail his fingertips over the bared stomach, so tight
and smooth, over the muscled legs, and between them. He set the
younger boy gasping with pleasure, and his mouth twisted, into what
might have been a smile. It felt so good... and he could teach this boy
to feel so good... Impulsively, he dipped his head between Sano's
legs, kissing each of the bared thighs. Sagara Sanosuke moaned,
long and desperate, a delicious noise, and Aoshi felt himself driven to
further please his new charge. 

He tilted his head upwards, brushing his lips over Sanosuke's most
delicate parts, slowly drawing soft, broken sobs of ecstasy from the
younger boy. He wanted this to be slow, perfect. Refusing to capture
Sanosuke's trembling length into his mouth, he flicked his tongue
along the sides of it, up the sleekly muscled stomach, parting the
wrappings to bare the rest of his skin. He dipped his tongue into
Sanosuke's navel, eliciting a stifled groan, then trailed his way to one
of Sano's stiffly erect nipples. As Aoshi closed his mouth around it,
he was serenaded by long, lustful utterances. It served to make him
harder, more excited. He drew himself up, so that hardness met
hardness, a thrill of pleasure racing through both their bodies at the
contact. His mouth found Sanosuke's again, so hungry for the taste
of the boy, his tongue gliding across and between the boy's lips.
Sanosuke caught Aoshi's tongue with his teeth, teasingly, unwilling
to simply be a participant. Aoshi softly moaned as Sanosuke
squeezed his buttocks, felt between them, came to grip his manhood,
cool palm against burning hot flesh. Without meaning to, he thrust,
and the delicious friction combined with the probing, clashing muscle
of Sanosuke's tongue nearly made him finish before he meant to. He
stopped himself just in time, pulling back from Sano, a hand cradling
the other's cheek as he gazed into his eyes. 

"Uh-uh-uh, not yet little Sanosuke..." he whispered, moving himself
down and out of Sanosuke's grasp. If he would play master, he
would play it to the hilt. His tongue lay a line of wetness down the
center of Sanosuke's stomach and then sped quickly down to its
destination, curling around the boy's erection, enveloping it with his
mouth. He felt the boy buck, gasping, his hands flying up to tangle in
Aoshi's dark, silken hair. Smiling a little, he let the boy guide him
into a steady rhythm, sucking gently. The taste of salt and Sano filled
his mouth and he purred, a low rumble in the back of his throat that
sent sensuous vibrations streaming through the boy. He was
rewarded with a desperate, throaty moan, and he felt hands clutch his
head, trying to increase his pace. He refused to give up. He would
draw this out as long as possible; after all, this was Sanosuke's first,
and he wouldn't last that long. Aoshi wanted to wring as much
pleasure out of the boy as he could. He drew one hand up to toy with
Sano's nipple, lauded by the cries of happiness from the other's lips. 

Finally, he increased his pace and gave into Sanosuke's hungry
urgings. The boy gave up his dignity and begged as he thrust a final
few times into Aoshi's mouth, then released, bitter-salty seed filling
and spilling over the other's lips. Aoshi sat back and savored the
sight of Sanosuke, head drawn back, the arch of his throat gleaming
sweat-slick in the hot sunlight, chest heaving. He shuddered several
times with the last spasms of ecstacy, then rest exhausted against the
wall. But he was not done. Persistent and huge of stamina even
outside of the battlefield, thought Aoshi, as Sanosuke caught his eye,
and begged, "Your turn, captain...." 

"Turn over," Aoshi guided him, his voice gentle. He watched the boy
get on his hands and knees with more than a little lust, his body
heating, responding to the luxurious sight of Sano's nakedness. His
tight, smooth buttocks hid a deep, dark place that Aoshi felt himself
suddenly burn with a hunger for, longing to be wrapped around his
length by Sanosuke. He let Sanosuke wet him with his lips, enjoying
that for a few long moments; and when he felt he was slick enough,
he turned the boy around and gave into his carnal desires. 

He entered Sano with a slow, even thrust; and listened for a cry of
pain from the boy. Surprisingly, there was none; Aoshi guessed the
Sanosuke was very used to taking pain without complaint from his
trials as a fighter. Letting himself go, he began to rock his hips,
slowly at first, then harder and faster as the pleasure enveloped him,
drew itself into a tighter and tighter knot at his groin, blanking his
mind to nothing but a quest for pleasure, taunted on by the boy's
hungry cries.... Oh GOD! Aoshi threw back his head and snarled, a
gutteral noise of release as his cock twitched within the incredibly
tight hole and spewed his seed deep into Sanosuke. The boy moaned
as the hot rush of warmth filled him. He collapsed, bringing the taller
man atop him, the two of them lying there, shivering with shared
pleasure. Finally, Sanosuke slept, content. 

Aoshi waited until the boy's breathing soothed and levelled. Then he
rose, wiping himself dry with a handful of leaves. He licked his lips,
the bitter taste of Sano still on his tongue, and watched the boy sleep,
so innocent. Aoshi retrieved his jacket, draped it over the curled,
slumbering figure. Then he dressed, and entered the dojo, seeking
Kenshin. 

The two old friends shared a tea ceremony and admired a wall
hanging; well, at least Aoshi enjoyed himself, and Kenshin attempted
to keep Aoshi company. As the sun cast a gorgeous orange-red light
through the windows of the dojo, Sanosuke stumbled in, eyes still
sleep-clogged, looking only slightly hung over. He smiled at the two
of them, a contented smile, and Kaoru rudely asked why he looked
so pleased with himself. 

"I dreamed my Boss came back and visited me," he answered simply,
then left. 

"Why should that make him so happy?" Kaoru shrugged. "It's just a
dream." 

Kenshin smiled, and caught Aoshi's brief flicker of a grin before his
face returned to a calm mask. An interesting enigma, Kenshin
thought to himself, but did not ask. Sanosuke looked genuinely
happy, and it was good to see. "Thank you for visiting, Aoshi," he
said, turning to his friend, who nodded, raising his cup. 

"Ah," was all that the young okashira said, and they returned to
contemplating the setting sun. 

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