Subj:	Never Be The Same 2
Date:	5/7/00 10:08:24 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From:	wrathofkath@licensedtokill.com (Kathy)


Never Be The Same
Chapter 2
by Yuri


**All standard disclaimers apply.
**"Never Be The Same" recorded by Melissa Etheridge


~*~
I don’t quite *snatch* the cup from Sano’s hand, but it’s a
very near thing.  With a sharp little click I return it to
the tray in front of him.  I stand for a moment, bending
over his recumbent form, before I sink to my knees beside
him.  He doesn’t say a word... just stares at me for a
minute with those eyes... those huge brown eyes, wounded,
like the animal that comes close enough to eat from your
hand, before you cut it’s throat, and take it home where it
gets eaten instead.  It absolutely infuriates me.

Finally, his eyes slide away from mine, and giving up on
the cup, he reaches for the sake jug itself.  In a moment
of quietly controlled fury, this time I *do* snatch the jug
from his grasp, and slide the whole tray out of his reach.
There are so many things I want to say to him right now,
but I know it’s useless.  He’s clearly beyond
recrimination, and perhaps even beyond standing.

Thank the gods that one of his friends had found me with
Tae-san’s message when he did, because any longer and I
would have been carrying him home.  Looking at him, I can
tell that he’s almost at that stage.  I should know... I’ve
been tracking Sano down in a different drinking
establishment every day for nearly a week.  I’d been
searching for hours when I got the message.  Sano is drunk
at the Akabeko, and can I please come and get him?

I sigh.  Of course I’ll come... what else can I do?  Even
though we’d been discrete for the near month we’ve been
together, discretion has blown to hell in the last few
days.  Again I ask myself... what else can I do?  What
I *have* done is what I’m doing now... track him down like
a dutiful little wife, and lead his drunken ass stumbling
home.  I tell you, it’s getting old, and something is going
to have to change... and soon.

Don’t get me wrong, I *do* care about him.  In fact, in the
past few weeks, my feelings for him have only intensified.
As I had realized that first torrid night we spent
together, I love him.  I can admit it freely to myself now.
Of course, I haven’t said it to *him*.  And thanks to his
so-called friend, the former Battousai, I might never be
able to tell him how I really feel.  The choice between
Kenshin and myself is one decision I’m afraid to ask Sano
to make.

I’m sorry, but my emotions get the better of me
sometimes... especially where Sano and Kenshin are
concerned.  You would think Sano would have learned, but I
guess love truly is blind.  In this case, it’s also deaf,
dumb and stupid.  Surely he can see that the man simply
*doesn’t* love him.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve met the whole bunch of Sano’s
new friends.  They’re a decent enough group of people, I
guess.  The little dojo owner, Kamiya Kaoru, with her
country ways and her vibrant dark hair, has done her best
to make me feel welcome in their group.  I find myself want
to sketch her at the oddest moments, but I have refrained.
I have no idea how the Battousai would react to that
notion.

And the foxy doctor Tanaki Megumi, well, she take *very*
good care of my Sano, all the while berating him without
even stopping for breath.  Hmmm... possibly something else
to worry about there.  She’s definitely beautiful enough to
draw any man’s attention, including mine.  but I have to
wonder what pain she hides from behind that defensive
briskness, and what past event has caused the dark shadows
in her eyes.  

As for the boy, Yahiko, the likeness between him and Sano
at his age is almost frightening.  If Sano were a little
older, I’d wonder about the boy’s parentage.

And the Battousai... I sigh again.  I can never decide if
the tensions I sense between him and Sano are real, or just
my imagination.  I know how Sano feels about him, but I’ve
seen *him* looking at the Kamiya girl.  It’s plain to me
where his heart is leading him... straight to this little
girl, nearly half his age, and as innocent as they come.  I
have to wonder what he’s thinking, because clearly this
child will never be able to appreciate what and who he was,
and what I believe he still is.  But when I see the
look in his eyes... Maybe they will work it out eventually.
Love has done stranger things.  And frankly, I don’t really
care, beyond the fact that anything that occupies his
attention *away* from Sano has my complete approval.

But just when I think the Battousai’s... Kenshin’s...
emotions are safely entangled elsewhere, something happens
between he and Sano to blow that idea completely out of the
water.  An enigmatic look...  a murmured word... a chance
brush of hands... and I have to restrain myself from
reaching out, putting a hand on Sano, and saying, "Mine."
And then we have the fiasco of nearly a week ago...

I suppose the plan was too simplistic to have any chance of
success, but I really didn’t know what else to do at that
point.  So Sano and I loaded up with my home-made bombs,
and went off to pay a little visit from the last survivors
of the Sekihoutai, to the Meiji government officials...
And there he was.

We thought we had left him sleeping in the aftermath of a
party given for precisely that purpose, but he was too wise
for that.  He had known all along... somehow he had known
where to be, and when to be there.  And he had known that
this time, there were no words that could back Sano down,
and make him see the light, the way he had done in their
last fight.  This time it was more serious than ever... and
it should have been deadly. 

I’ve heard stories of that first fight.  I’ve been told how
Sano got up again and again, coming back from whatever
Kenshin threw at him.  The boy, Yahiko, told me that even
after Sano’s zanbatou was broken, and he couldn’t do
anything but struggle to stay on his feet, he wasn’t giving
up.  I’m not surprised.  That’s the Sano I knew as a boy,
and I knew he would grow into that kind of man.  

Only the combination of Kenshin’s acceptance of his cause,
the fact that he never wanted to fight Sano in the first
place, and the danger to Kaoru and Yahiko were enough to
bring the fight to an end with Sano in one bruised and
battered piece.  This time it wasn’t like that.  This time
Kenshin couldn’t afford to just let him walk away.  The
alliances of the past came back to haunt us all that night.

Watching Sano as he fought, I felt that he realized that he
was eventually going to lose.  I think he knew that Kenshin
wouldn’t kill him.  Evidently he’s taken a vow not to kill
again.  But Sano could have ended up crippled...
helpless...  And he was willing to go through that, to give
me a chance to completely my stupid plan.  Yes, it was
stupid.  I don’t know what I was trying to accomplish,
other than striking one blind blow, for the simple
self-satisfaction that it was.  And it nearly cost so
much...

And then Sano collapsed in his arms, and I got a good look
at Kenshin’s face.  The grief there amazed me.  He knew
that he had given Sano the only two things that he was able
to give in this situation.  He had stopped him without
taking away his pride, and he had stopped him without
permanent injury.  Truly, the gods themselves could not
have come up with a more elegant solution.  But the pain in
Kenshin’s eyes was disconcerting.   Why does he care so
much?  It scares me.  What kind of man is this, and
what chance do I stand against him, should he ever decide
he wants to take Sano from me?  The answer is bitter, but
undeniable.  I stand no chance... no chance in hell.

But it’s the effect that the whole episode has had on Sano
that has nearly made me insane this past week.  Sano’s not
mad... he’s hurt.  And I don’t just mean his body...
because that is healing with amazing rapidity.  It’s
more complicated than that.  It’s as if his whole world
crumbled when Kenshin’s blunt blade crashed across his
chest.

I wonder if he clung to consciousness long enough to hear
Kenshin’s voice whispering his name as he collapsed into
those amazingly strong arms.  I hope not.  That’s right,
you can call me evil if you like.  But I know that it
would have only encouraged Sano to keep pining away, hoping
for the impossible, dreaming of the unattainable.  Better
that he should concentrate on the here and now, and not the
tenuous ‘maybe’ of the future.

Personally I think the chances of Kenshin giving him what
he needs to make him happy are slim to none.  If I can only
get him to snap out of it... to come back to the world of
the living.  Sano *can’t* just give up that easily. 
If he did, he would have died long ago.  I’ve been so
gentle with him these past few days.  Maybe what he needs
is something a little tougher...  As he stumbles down the
street, I suddenly drive him against the rough side of a
convenient building, and shove my face close to his.

"What the hell is wrong with you Sano?" I hiss.  "You’ve
been hurt worse than this before.  The last time Kenshin
kicked your ass, I’ve heard you were back to normal in just
a few days.  I don’ t think you’re even hurt as bad this
time.  So, what’s your damn excuse for moping around here
like a drunk, lovesick puppy?"

He looks at me for a moment... really *looks* at me.  It’s
almost a shock to see the focus come back to his eyes.
Then his gaze slides away again and I nearly scream with
frustration.  My hands curl into fists around the edges
of his jacket, and I shake him, rattling his head back
against the boards.  I know I’m losing control, but I can’t
help it.  I just want to slap him until he’s so angry that
he can’t help but respond.  But I’m afraid... What if,
after all that, I still get no response.  How far gone is
he?  It’s hard to tell.

Suddenly his hands raise to fasten around my wrists, and he
tears my fists away from his clothing.  His gaze is
abruptly sharp with accusation as he stares at me, and my
breath catches in my throat.

"Let go of me," he growls, low and dangerous.  The sound of
it sends a quiver through me, even in the grimness of the
situation.  It reminds me of dark nights and heated
flesh... skin sliding on skin... murmured phrases of
endearment and anguished please for release.  The
inappropriateness of these feelings at this moment sends a
flush of guilt across my face.  His words continue, and
their venom burns into my soul.

"What do you think give you the fucking *right* to say
anything to me about this?  We both got into this, and
we’ll both deal with it in our own way!  Why don’t you
leave me the hell alone, and go blow up something? 
You’re probably *glad* Kenshin did what he had to do to me.
You’d be fucking thrilled if we *hated* each other!"

And there it was.  That accusation wasn’t the only one I
had expected, but I had been waiting for it.  I had told
myself that I was prepared for him to blame me for getting
him into this, but he was a bigger man than that.  I have
to respect him in that.  He doesn’t blame anybody for his
actions, or his choices, except himself.

But his other accusation... It’s much harder to deny,
because something inside me *is* relieved to have this
between them... this insurmountable stumbling block to
stand in the way of any stray emotions that might go
floating through some warm spring evening... I swallow, and
it hurts my throat.  I know he can see the guilt in my
eyes, and he shoves me away from him, and lurches off down
the street.

Suddenly he comes to a halt, and I look past him to see why
he’s stopped.  A tall slim figure stands in front of him,
examining us intently.  Short dark hair is brushed close to
his head, except for several thin strands which have
escaped to hang long, across his face.  It’s an interesting
face, full of planes and angles.  His eyes are the most
unusual color, like maple leaves after the first frost.
For a moment, I’m lost in those eyes... The unexpected and
unwelcome feelings coursing through me as I meet his fixed
stare have nothing to do with love, and everything to do
with lust.  Power is a  potent aphrodisiac, and this man
absolutely reeks of it.

My eyes finally free themselves from the golden snare of
his gaze, to sweep down his lean muscular figure.  A
sheathed katana hangs at the side of his blue uniform, and
all at once my mind focuses.  Cursing myself for my lapse,
I suddenly realize what we’re dealing with here.  Shit!  A
cop is the *last* thing we need to see right now.  And
Sano’s drunk enough to blurt out anything...

I hurry forward to take Sano’s arm, and I try to look as
harmless as possible.  I get the impression that the figure
before us is attempting the same deception, but he’s
failing miserably.  No one with that kind of aura can
possibly pass himself off as harmless to anyone who has
*any* perception of power.  I feel Sano bristling at my
side, under the man’s unwavering stare.  I am utterly
amazed that he hasn’t spouted some ridiculous challenge to
this man... this very dangerous man.

Without a word, the cop sweeps a slow, considering look up
and down both of us, lingering with a thin smile on my
hand, clasped so tightly around Sano’s arm. He lights a
cigarette, and then casually inquires if there is any
problem here.  I quickly assure him that everything is
fine... that my friend here just had a little too much to
drink, and I’m only trying to help him get home.

He smiles again, and give an ironic little snort, but he
seems to accept my explanation, even though the hour is
early in the day for such drunkenness.  He moves aside,
letting us continue on our way.  I can feel his eyes boring
into our backs as we distance ourselves from him.  I
shiver.  That was... weird.  There was just something about
that guy... I ask Sano if he knows the cop, and get only a
brief shake of his head in reply.

As soon as we are out of his sight, Sano jerks his arm free
of my grasp, and shoots me another look that could kill.
He staggers off in the direction of his house, and I follow
him, determined to see him home safely, if nothing else.

We are in sight of his house when it happens.  I knew it
was coming.  I could see his footsteps getting more and
more unsteady. His strength just isn’t back up to what it
should be, and he would have collapsed in the street if I
hadn’t been ready to catch him.  Then comes the part that
gets to me the most... the tears.  I can’t stand it, and I
throw one of his arms around my shoulders, and half carry,
half drag him into the house, and to the futon.  He hasn’t
bothered to roll it up since the night I brought him
home unconscious.

As he curls into a wretched ball on the bed, I sink down
beside him, and run my fingers through his hair.  It’s
meant as a comforting gesture, and to my relief, he accepts
it as such.  This is the first time he has allowed me to
touch him in any but the most casual manner since that
night.  The thought that has been foremost in my mind these
past few days comes back to plague me again.  What the hell
am I going to do about Sanosuke?  I’m not even sure if I
*have* an answer, much less a good one. 

As I lay there beside him, comforting him in his misery, my
own exhaustion finally catches up with me.  The sleepless
nights have taken their toll, and I don’t even try to fight
it as I feel myself drifting off to sleep.

~*~
I wake up with an aching neck, and my hands still entwined
in Sano’s hair.  The air is hot and still around us,
enveloping us like a sticky blanket.  It’s a typical late
spring day.  Although I hadn’t meant to sleep that long, my
body clock tells me it’s some time in the mid-afternoon,
and my stomach tells me that lunch is long past.

Ignoring the hunger pangs, because I’ve been hungry before,
and it didn’t kill me, I stare down at this man-child who
has caused me so much emotional distress in such a short
period of time.  I never intended for it to be like this
between us, but now that it is, that same questions lumbers
back across my thoughts.  Now what?  Where do we go from
here?  Hell, where do I even *want* us to go from here?
It’s been a very long time since I depended on anyone else
for my own happiness, and I’m not so sure I want to put
myself in that position again... ever.

Carefully I unwind myself from his body, and remove my
hands from their resting place in his hair.  His sleepy
eyes open briefly, and I lean forward to press a gentle
kiss on his mouth.  To my satisfaction, he returns the
brief pressure, and I feel the warm sigh of his breath
between my lips.  Then his eyes slide closed again, and he
drifts away into realms where pain and disillusion hold no
sway.

Leaving him sleeping, I make my way silently to the back of
the house, and slide open the door to the garden.  The
chief reason that Sano chose this place stares me in the
face, and I make my way to the small bath house with
gleeful anticipation.  I pause for a moment to listen for
sounds of life from the other houses that share this
garden, and the luxury of this bath house, but all is
silent.

Cool dimness greets me as I push open the door, and the
prospect of a good soak with Sano hurries my steps as I
begin to fetch the water to fill the tub.  After many trips
with the buckets, the tub is filled and inviting, and I
kindle the fire to start bringing it up to the right
temperature.  It may not sound like it, but a long lounge
in a hot bath is a wonderful thing, no matter what the
weather.

As I start back to the house, realization of what I’m doing
stops me in my tracks.  I realize that once again I’ve
pushed the emotional issue that is Sano aside, and have
wandered off into the realm of the sensual.  I swear... I
can’t help it.  Sano is like a drug to me... more addictive
than opium.  And probably more dangerous, too.  There’s
something about him that draws me in, and even when we’re
not touching, I can feel the tension between us.  Even when
we’re not talking about sex, or thinking about sex... hell,
who am I kidding?  There’s no time when I’m around Sano
that I’m not thinking about sex.

Sex with Sano is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.  How
can I explain it?  It’s a paradox of wildly differing
sensations, all rolled into one incredible rush. It’s the
safety of being in his arms, and the danger of being in his
heart.  It’s the gentle touch of his hands on my face, and
the savage pull of his hands in my hair.  It’s the peace of
the aftermath, and the rage of the storm.  Just thinking
about it raises every hair on my body, as the memories
caress me like the touch of my lover’s body.  A shudder
envelopes me, and the prospect of being in his arms
quickens my steps.

Once inside the house, I pause again, and am exasperated
with myself for doing so.  I have never been one to suffer
with fits of hesitation.  I have always planned my course
of action, and boldly strode down the path I’ve laid out
for myself.  But with Sano, I never know from day to day
how things will be between us.  It’s been a long time since
I was in love with someone I was sleeping with, and I had
forgotten what it’s like.  I had forgotten that combination
of fear and ecstasy... never knowing if things will change,
or stay the same... and not sure which way you want it to
be.  And to be honest, something about our relationship has
already changed.

Since his fight with Kenshin, I have moved to take the
dominant position in our union.  Oh, I don’t mean that the
way it sounds!  Sano has shown no interest in anything
physical between us since he was hurt.  That’s one reason
why his positive reception of my caress, and our relatively
innocent kiss earlier today was so important to me.  Maybe
it means he’s ready to open up to me again.  My mind, and
my heart acknowledge and understand his hesitation, but my
body wants to attack his like a wild animal.

No, the dominance I speak of is of the emotional sort.
Ever since that first night, I have let Sano lead us where
he will in bed, and the trip has been a blissful journey of
exploration and discovery.  But since the night he faced
Kenshin, I have been the one to keep him together... as
best I can.  There is little I can say in the face of his
grief, because guilt binds my tongue... and he knows it.
But in all other matters, he merely flounders from day to
day, lost in a drunken haze.  It’s pushed me past
frustration and into anger.  Oh, it’s not anger that he’s
drinking.  After all, Sano and sake seem to be a match made
in heaven.  Only the potter I shared a brief...
relationship... with in Kyoto last year seems to have a
greater appreciation of the drink.

No, the anger is something else entirely.  Sano plus sake
have, for the past month, always equaled something of a
celebration of life.  A revel in the simple fact that we
are alive, and a gladness to be sharing our days... and
our nights... with the ones that we care about.  But in the
week since the fight, the combination of Sano and sake have
resulted in only melancholy and tears.  I swear, if I hear
him sigh, and whisper "Kenshin" one more time, I’m going to
kill him myself.  I know that I have to do something to
turn the tide of misery, and bring back the Sano I know and
love before he destroys himself.

The thought that has been prowling around in the back of my
mind springs forth, but still I hesitate.  He how he react
if I became the dominant partner in the physical as well as
the emotional sense?  After all, we’ve never done that, and
in truth, it’s not something I often feel moved to do. It’s
not that it isn’t pleasurable, because it most certainly
is.  The truth is that I tend to be the passive element in
relationships, drawn to dangerous and powerful people, who
feel the need to dominate.

Slowly but surely the idea grows in my head that this is
what he needs... this new wrinkle in our partnership.
Maybe it will jolt him out of his doldrums, and let him
start to heal.  Trust me to come up with something sexual
as being the "cure" Sano needs.  Obsessed?  Who, me?  The
thought makes me smile as I go to wake him up.

At first he resists me, preferring to remain in the
untroubled world of his dreams.  I’m sure he’s happier
there right now, because he’s smiling in his sleep.  But
the time has come for him to wake up... in more ways than
one. Finally I convince him to awaken, and he stumbles to
the back door, still cursing me in a voice of quiet
hopelessness.  The tone of his utterance is a clear
indication of exactly what’s wrong with him.  The self-pity
I hear there strengthens my resolve, and sweeps away the
last bit of doubt that I have.  It’s time for both of us to
begin anew, and this is the best way I know to enter upon
the journey down that road.

He looks at me strangely, as I urge him toward the bath
house, and I wonder what my face must look like.  I would
imagine it’s a bizarre mixture of hope and fear, hesitancy
and determination, love and lust.  But something there must
intrigue him, because after a moment, he allows me to pull
him by the hand to the back of the garden.

As we enter the small structure he gently disentangles his
hand from mine.  The sleep he has had seems to have purged
part of his ill mood, but he makes it plain that all is
still not well.  At least he tries to, but I see him
sneaking glances at me.  The overwhelming physical
attraction we feel for each other has been something of a
joke between us since we began this alliance.  There hasn’t
been much to smile about lately, but I manage to do so now.

He looks up to find me watching him, as he watches me.  He
flushes, and I’m even more amused that he can still be
embarrassed after all that has gone on between us.  I step
toward him, and ease his soiled and wrinkled jacket
from his shoulders.  He stiffens for a moment, before
allowing this small gesture.  He continues to watch me, but
I have managed to school my face into a mask of calm and
seeming innocence.

I toss his jacket to the floor, and quickly drop mine to
join it.  They both need to be washed.  He begins to unwind
the bandages from around his torso, and I wince at the
sight of the livid bruise across his chest, but I know
better than to offer my sympathy right now.  The time isn’t
right.

As he continues to strip down to his breechcloth, I realize
that he hasn’t said a word since we left the house.  It is
as if he is afraid to break this fragile new peace that
envelopes us.  His accusations, once voiced, seem to have
lost their hold on both of us.  I know now what he blames
me for, and he knows that I understand how he feels.  Now
we can move on. We enter an interval of mutual silence,
each content to let things rest as they are... for now.

I urge him to the low stool in the bathing room, and begin
to gently wash him with a soft cloth.  I assume a nurturing
role, as I minister to him in this most basic way.  He sits
placidly, and allows me to bathe his body, which has gone
too many days without washing. A sense of calm descends
upon us that neither of us has known these last few days.
We simply absorb it, letting it nourish and heal our
battered hearts.

As I finish this cleansing, so symbolic at this moment, I
slowly pour the last of the rinse water across his
shoulders, and take his hand to lift him to his feet.  I
gesture toward the tub, behind the screen in the middle of
the room.  He makes his way there to begin his soak.  I
quickly attend to my own ablutions, and walk to the tub.  I
stand there and wait, unwilling to push him just yet, and
finally he extends a hand to me.  He pulls his legs up
to make a place for me, but I indicate that I would rather
sit behind him.

He looks slightly surprised, but trusts me in this, as he
has trusted me in everything since the genesis of our
relationship.  He allows me to seat myself behind him, and
I stretch my legs out on either side of him.  I gently urge
his shoulders back against my chest, and he relaxes into my
embrace with a sigh.  I wrap my arms around his chest,
careful to avoid putting any pressure on his injury.

After a moment I lower my face and pressed my closed mouth
against his shoulder.  Not a kiss... just a firm pressure
of lips on warm skin.  His head tilts, and he rubs his
cheek against my hair.  Tentatively I open my mouth and
lick the droplets of water from his shoulder, reveling in
the clean taste of him.   I feel the chill bumps raise on
his skin, but he holds himself motionless.  He also doesn’t
pull away.  After another hesitation I repeat the caress on
the other side, sweeping my tongue from the point of his
shoulder all the way across to his neck.  I bite gently
into the big muscle joining his neck and shoulder, and this
time he is unable to stop his shudder of pleasure.

I return to the other side of his neck and just as gently
bite into the same muscle there, sucking lightly.  He
shifts restlessly against me, and then again holds himself
still.  Unwrapping my arms from around him, my hands
slide across his chest, just below the surface of the
water.  The whirl of the warm liquid is a silken caress
against his body, and when my fingers find and delicately
roll his nipples between, I see his knuckles whiten as
he grips the sides of the tub.

As my hands glide lower, to caress the muscles of his
smooth abdomen, he arches back against me.  As his head
falls against my shoulder, I take the opportunity that
presents itself, and gently trace the contours of his ear
with my tongue.  Using my teeth again, I tug at his
earlobe, as I let my warm breath waft across his ear.  This
time I hear the gasp of his sharply indrawn breath.

I continue to stroke his stomach, disregarding the hard
shaft of his penis, as it presses against the backs of my
hands.  Keeping my hands flattened against his skin, I rub
gently downward , across the tops of his thighs, before
reaching between them to cup him gently.  He finally breaks
our silence with a faint moan, and his arms leave their
resting place on the side of the tub, his hands curling
around mine, pressing them against them.

"Sssshhhh," I whisper into his hear.  I grasp his hands and
return them to their former position along the sides of the
tub, showing him what I want from him.  Acquiescing to my
wishes, he is willing to do as I request, and see what will
happen.  Returning my hands to his body, I sweep a firm
caress up both his sides, and back down again, as my mouth
is busy making a meal of his neck and shoulders.

I wrap a hand around his manhood, and cup his testicles
with the other.  I see his mouth open in silent entreaty ,
but his self discipline wins out, and he doesn’t make a
sound.  I begin to stroke him, and he presses even more
firmly back against me, grinding my own hardness into his
back.  I ignore my own needs for the moment, determined to
play this out in my own way.  My tongue flicks into his ear
yet again, and his hips buck convulsively against my hands.
I can tell that he his trying to stay still... trying to
maintain control.  I smile.  I do love a good challenge.

As I continue to stroke him, I maneuver him so that when I
lift his penis, the tip of it comes just above the water.
I begin to use the warm fluid as another caress, as it
swirls around and across the sensitive skin.  He can’t
help but move against my hands now, as they continue their
relentless rhythm.  I’ve learned what he likes... what he
needs... and I use this knowledge ruthlessly, to bring him
almost to release, before my hands still on him, and simply
hold him motionless.

His breath is a rasping chorus in the quiet room,
punctuating the turbulent slosh of the water as he writhes
in it.  He thrusts against my hands, but I allow them to
move with his body, denying him the friction he so craves. 
Again his hands leave the sides of the tub, to reach for
his penis, and find his own release, and again I catch them
and return them to their former position.

My hands wrap around him again, causing him to gasp in
frustration.  Almost involuntarily he thrusts against my
grip.  This time I allow it to slide against him, bringing
him one step closer to the precipice.  I can tell by his
breathing and the pounding of his heart as it throbs
against my chest, that he’s very close now, and it won’t
take much push him into orgasm.  I release him completely
and reach up to mold my hands over his, white-knuckled
where they desperately clutch the tub.

I lace my fingers with his and lower his hands, and mine,
to wrap around his aching shaft.  As he tries to stoke
himself quickly into completion, I hold his hands, only
allowing him the smallest of movements.  He sobs in
frustration, and my mouth finds the big muscle in his neck
again.  This time I clamp down firmly with my teeth.  He
writhes against the dual sensations of pleasure and pain,
and presses against both my mouth and our hands.

As his gasp becomes a sound of whimpering need, I allow our
hands to slide on his cock, one more stroke, as I release
my bite to break the silence with something I had thought
never to voice to him.

"You are mine," I whisper into his ear, still ruthlessly
controlling his movement. He groans in frustration, but
doesn’t answer me. As I caress him again, I tell him, "You
belong to me."  Again I move his hands against him, and he
knows what I want.  He knows what the words mean.  And he
understands what will happen later, if he gives in to his
need now.  I squeeze his throbbing penis, and at that last
caress, his control is broken, and he give me the
capitulation I require.

"I belong to you."

As he growls the words, our hands move on his shaft
urgently, as he comes to the very edge of his pleasure.

"Now," I whisper.  As his release floods him, his cry
echoes through the room.  He collapses back against me, his
strength draining from him, along with his semen.

He lays there a moment, panting in the aftermath.  His arms
stretch up, and behind his head, to curve around my neck.
Unable to resist such a tempting display, my hands sweep
another caress up his body.  From thighs to chest I stroke,
and return my attention to his nipples, still pebble hard
and sensitive.  I rub my palms against them, and then tease
them with the more intense stimulation of my fingertips.
With a choked gasp, his hands fly to cover mine, pressing
them flat against his chest.  He draws a breath to speak,
but I beat him to it.

"You belong to me,"  I tell him again.  With the words, he
stiffens, and tries to pull away from me.  I quickly
encircle him with arms and legs, holding him still...
pressing him against me.  With a careful arch of my hips, I
press the rigid evidence of my unsated desire against the
small of his back.  His struggles cease, but he sits
frozen, motionless in my embrace.  

And suddenly I realize that I can’t do this.  It just isn’t
in my nature.  I release him with a sigh, and lean back in
the tub.  I should have known that I’d never be able to
pull this off.  I truly *do* want him in this way, but
not enough to force him into it.  I could never force
anyone.  It brings back too many bad memories.

After a moment, Sano moves.  I know he is going to leave me
now... alone with this aching need... of heart as well as
body.  I close my eyes, and slide low in the water.  I’m
not going to try to stop him as he walks away from me, but
I don’t have to watch it either.

I’m not sure how he manages to turn around in the tub
without drowning both of us, or putting an elbow in the
worst possible place, but he does it.  As I feel his body
press against mine, I open my eyes to find him looking
at me.  His hands are planted on either side of my hips,
and his chin hangs just above my stomach.  He presses his
chest down against my groin, and my breath catches at the
sensation.

I think suddenly of his injury, and open my mouth to speak.
Just before my concern is voiced, I catch the warning glint
in his eyes, and leave the words unspoken.  I understand
that expression.  It tells me to hush... to let him make
his own decisions.  He knows what he can handle, and what
he can’t.

Giving in to his wishes, I close my eyes again and simply
lose myself in the self-indulgent delight of his firm body
sliding, slick and wet, up across my cock.  My gaze focuses
again, and I find his face so close to mine that I can feel
his breath on my face.  He leans forward, and presses his
mouth to mine.  For the first time in far too many days,
his tongue slides into my mouth, and begins a unhurried
exploration there.

Eventually our mouths part, and Sano meets and holds my
gaze as he says the words I did not think to hear.

"I belong to you.  I am yours."

Not a capitulation this time, but a choice... freely made.
As his mouth lowers to mine again, our kiss this time is
nothing short of urgent.  Our wet bodies undulate against
each other, sloshing water over the edge of the tub, and
onto the floor.  I feel him growing hard against me again.
Ahhhh, the wonder of youth.  As his desire rekindles, his
arms clench around the small of my back.  

His action allows us to slide under the water, and we both
come up sputtering, our passion giving way to our need for
air.  A rueful grin flits across his face, but it’s quickly
gone, as the urges of our bodies spur us on.

We rise from the water, and I grab a drying sheet to throw
around myself for the run back to the house.  Sano pulls it
from my hands,  and lets it drop to the floor.  He molds
his body to mine, and gives me that look that makes me
forget how to breathe as he speaks.

"No.  Right here.  Right now,"  he growls at me, his voice
painfully deep in evidence of his growing passion.  I
exhale shakily as I kiss him again, and run my hands across
his  shoulders and down his back.  I grasp his buttocks,
and grind my hips against him, delighting in the sensuous
slide of our still dripping bodies.  I had almost forgotten
how much I enjoy making love straight from the bath.

His eyes are still open and accepting as he lets his knees
buckle, trusting me not to let him fall.  I urge him down
to lie on the floor on his back.  He looks up at me,
confused, and I fight to hide a grin.  When he is in
control of things, we always make love with him behind me.
With me in charge, I want things to be a little different.

I return to the other side of the room, and retrieve the
lubricant I had stashed in my clothing earlier when I went
to get him from the house.  When he sees the bottle in my
hands, his eyes widen in misgiving.  I see him bite his lip
as he turns his face away from me.  I kneel beside him, and
he turns back to face me again.  I can see in his eyes that
he’s apprehensive... and angry at himself for showing it.

I ask him if he wants to go back to the house, but
stubbornly he shakes his head again.  I shrug.  It doesn’t
matter to me where we do this... as long as it happens
soon.  I would like to say that I am strong enough to walk
away... strong enough to tell him it doesn’t matter, and
let it end here.  But I’m not.  The thought of Sano
writhing below me... of his muscles squeezing me tightly
inside him... It has grown into an undeniable compulsion.
There is no way I can leave him now.

I can tell from his expression that he thinks what is to
come between us will be solely for my benefit.  He doesn’t
think that he will derive  a great deal of pleasure from
this act, but I plan to prove him wrong.  I stretch out
beside him, and pull him into my arms.  As I gently cradle
him against me, I can feel him begin to relax.  My hands
roam over his body, caressing all the places where I know
he craves my touch.  He returns my touch with equal
knowledge of my own body.  Soon we are both breathing
heavily, and I believe he is now ready for the next step.

I gently urge him over onto his stomach, and begin to
massage his back and shoulders as I kneel beside him.  The
soft sounds he makes let me know that he is enjoying my
touch.  Slowly my hands make their way down his body, until
I reach his firm round buttocks.  Without him even
realizing it, I reach for the bottle that lies beside us.
His first indication that the time has come is the feel of
my oiled hands reaching between his legs.  He stiffens
again, and I urge him to relax.  

In a soft voice, he calls my name.  I pause in my
ministrations, and wait for the question I hear in his
voice.  Hesitantly, he asks me if it will hurt.  I don’t
want to frighten him, but I don’t want to mislead him,
either.  I waver between truth and reassurance until he
raises himself up on one elbow, to look back at me.  His
own face is a study of dread warring with determination, as
he awaits my answer.  Finally, knowing that truth is the
only thing I can give him, I tell him that yes, there might
be some discomfort involved... especially at first.  But I
also tell him that to me, the small pain pales beside the
exquisite sensations that accompany it.  Smiling at the
disbelief on his face, I say that I don’t think it will be
so bad that he wants me to stop.  And if it is, all he has
to do is say so, and I will.  Silly boy.  He should know by
now that I would never do anything to damage him.

After another long look at me, he lays back down again.  I
see him press his mouth against his arm, ready to muffle
the sounds of pain he believes will be forthcoming.
Shaking my head at his distrust, I continue to rub the oil
into his skin.  As my fingers glide across the tightly
drawn muscles of his anus, I feel his body jerk in
response.  Making sure there is plenty of lubrication, I
slowly insert a finger into his body.  I hear his gasp, and
he clenches himself against my hand.  I simply wait... wait
for him to relax... wait for his body to accept these new
sensations.  Eventually his muscles relax, and I nearly
withdraw my finger, before carefully thrusting against him
again.  His gasp is softer this time, and he manages to
keep himself from stiffening up.

I continue to try to loosen his virginal body up a bit,
working one and then two slick fingers deeply into his
body.  After just a few moments, his body is learning to
accept me.  Removing my fingers from him, I urge him
to roll over onto his back again.  As he moves, I see the
imprint of his teeth in his arm.  Concerned, I ask him if
he is all right.  He brushes the question aside, and I
decide to trust him enough to tell me if he is unable
to continue.  Of course, I’m not really sure if it’s my
brain that’s in charge of my body just now...

I part his legs, and kneel between them.  He allows me to
manipulate his body freely and I press my thighs against
the backs of his.  His knees bend, and his legs splay open
wantonly.  Reaching down with my oiled hands, I begin to
stroke him, invoking in him a response for which he had
no defense.  He groans, and his hands curl into fists at
his side.  I run my hands up, across the taunt muscles of
his stomach, and bending over him, I reach for his mouth
with my own.  I see the desire clouding his gaze as my
face nears, and I smile at him before my lips lock onto
his.

As I release his mouth I lift myself from him, and my
tongue traces a path down his chest.  I pause to draw a
glistening circle around a tightly puckered nipple, and his
fingers lace through my hair.  He tries to press my face
tightly against him, but I resist, and turn my attention to
the other side of his chest.  Again, my tongue flicks out
to tease the sensitive flesh, and this time I draw his
nipple up, and deeply into my mouth.  His gasp is a mixture
of craving and torment, and it washes over me in a
shuddering wave.

My mouth releases him, and my hands travel downward, to the
apex of our bodies.  Reaching for the oil again, I spill it
liberaly across our bodies.  As I fondle his penis, his
hands raise to clasp me, and I moan at the feel of his
callused fingers against my sensitive skin.  Almost
regretfully I slide myself from his grasp, and put just a
little space between us.  As I pull his legs up and lean
slightly forward, his knees bend back toward his chest. 
His ankles are resting on my shoulders, and I can feel a
faint tremble in the muscles in his legs.  I caress him
again, from the bend of his knees, across the backs of his
thighs, and down further still.  My thumb presses against
the tense muscles, and after only the slightest
resistance, it slides into him.  His breathing becomes
shallow, and I see the exertion on his face to relax... to
accept...

Deciding that to wait any longer would only be prolonging
the torture with which his imagination is plaguing him, I
press the slippery tip of my cock against him.  I carefully
but firmly push, entering his body only slightly.  A small
sound escapes him, and he squirms against me, actually
forcing me deeper into his body.  This time his exclamation
is louder, and he manages to hold himself still against the
sensation.  I struggle to maintain my own control, and my
hands reach down to wrap around him.  His breathing becomes
harsh, and his muscles clench against me as I stroke him,
my thumb circling the very tip of his penis.  Unable to
control himself, he arches his hips against me, driving me
even further inside him.

I continue to hold myself stationary, and stroke him more
urgently.  He is not very close to orgasm yet, his body
still needing time to recover.  However, the intense rhythm
of my hands has caught him in the chase of the release his
flesh so craves.  I can wait form him, knowing that by the
time he reaches his own culmination, he will not hesitate
to help me reach my own.  His hips are plunging against me
now, each movement impelling me deeper into the hot
darkness of his body.  After a while I take my hands from
his penis, and grasp the bones of his hips, holding him
still as he presses against me.

I call his name, and waits until he surfaces from the
domain of pure sensation... where he has been lost for some
time now.  Finally, his eyes focus and his body becomes
still.  I draw his attention to the junction of our bodies,
and his eyes widen as they find me fully sheathed inside
him.  I have to chuckle at his surprise.  Evidently my
presence inside his body isn’t as unpleasant as he had
anticipated it would be.

I lean forward and press his knees tightly against his
chest.  For the first time I control our movement.
Withdrawing almost completely from him, I plunge myself
deeply back inside.  His hands lock around my neck, and he
pulls my face down to gasp his reaction into my mouth.
Moving only slightly within him, I draw my face away from
his to ask him if he is in pain.  

"Yes... no... I don’t know!  Just fuck me... please..."
His voice is a hoarse entreaty, and ever attentive to the
desires of my lover, I move to comply.  I begin a slow and
steady tempo, all the while pressing my stomach tight
against his rigid sex.  Soon he is meeting my strokes with
more enthusiasm than I could have ever dreamed.

My control is good, but not limitless, and I feel myself
reaching the critical point of no return.  Having learned
Sano’s body as well as I have, I can tell that he’s not far
behind me.  I twist my hips against him in a circular
motion, rolling my cock inside him, and he groans a
desperate plea.  Shifting and changing my angle of entry yet 
again, I search for the perfect thrust.  I am rewarded when 
his eyes open wide as the new sensation burns through his 
veins.  I know then that I’ve found the place inside him that
generates the most intense sensations... the place that
puts aside the need for the caress of hands, or mouths, and
pushes him into the orgasm that he wasn’t expecting quite
yet.

My body is arched above his, and I am able to watch as his
penis jerks, and his seed pours out onto his stomach.  The
sight is more than the remnants of my control can bear, and
I explode within him, my long-delayed orgasm seeming to
last forever.  

"Mine!"  I gasp as my hips slam into him one last time.

I slowly withdraw myself from his body, and collapse beside
him on the hard floor.  I ask if he is all right, and get
only a shaky laugh in reply.  Rising on my elbow, I draw
one lazy finger down the length of his thigh,  I smile as
his muscles react to me, quivering at my touch.  He rolls
toward me, and I enfold him in my arms until his breathing
slows, and I feel his heart rate returning to something
resembling normal.

Eventually I break our silence with a question.  Is he
ready to talk about things now?  He shakes his head, and
sits up to wrap his arms around his knees.  He lays his
cheek on his arm and looks down at me... more at ease
than I’ve seen him in days.  He tells me that there is
nothing to talk about.  What has gone before belongs only
in the past, and it’s only what is here and now that are
important.

I’m not so sure that I agree with him, because I feel that
there is a lot of pain inside him that sill needs to be
resolved.  But I am heartened enough by his response to let
it go for right now.  It may be selfish of me, but I want
Sano back the way he was, before all this took place
between him and Kenshin.  And anyway... I’ve always been a
selfish bastard.  I’ve never hesitated to admit it.

I hear his stomach growl, and I have to laugh aloud as he
tells me that the only thing he’s interested in discussing
right now is what we’ll be having for our evening meal.  My
heart lifts at what I perceive as the return of the old
Sano and I rise and draw him to his feet.  We clean
ourselves up again, pull on our pants, and stroll back to
the house, enjoying the quiet cool of dusk.

As we reach the house, I turn around to cast one last fond
glance back at the bath house.  At his questioning look I
shrug and tell him  that it’s not such a bad place to make
a new beginning.  His smile is luminous as he agrees with
me.  Then I throw my arm around the shoulder of this
extraordinary man, and suggest that we go and find
something to eat.

___________________________________

And I... I will never be the same
Caught in your eyes
Lost in your name
I will never be the same
____________________________________

end?

~*~
kaf
re-5/4/00