Author's Note:

WARNING: This chapter is rated M for sexual situations and sexual content. There's 7500 words of it. Okay, you've been warned.

Written for iamaikotachibana of tumblr, and because I have a total weakness for Sasuke myself. And apparently I enjoy writing Mitsuhide.

I could have posted this sooner, given that it ended up being so long. On the bright side, for those of you impatiently waiting to play Kenshin's route (or between chapter tickets), here's something to read about Kenshin's handler and all-round executive officer. Also, this final (currently final) chapter is fairly hot. ;)

~ Imp

Chapter 5—Decisions (The Price of Indiscretion Part II)

He looked a little dishevelled, and his face was even more devoid of emotion than usual, but it was definitely the same man who had kissed me—whom I'd kissed—just two hours earlier. Despite everything, I felt a rush of relief, followed by happiness, and then—I blamed my jailor's parting words—a warm, fluttery, excited feeling that I tried my best to set aside. Yeah, good luck with that.

A moment later, Sasuke alighted silently on the tatami. His eyes did a brief sweep of the room, and then he crossed to the window, beckoning me to follow. When I came up beside him, he rested a hand on my shoulder and bent down to my ear. Sadly, his words were prosaic.

"Could you open the window screen and look around for me? I don't want to cause even more problems for you."

The second sentence told me that he was berating himself—might even be quite upset—behind that blank face of his. I tried to ignore my reaction to feeling his soft breath on my ear and neck, and slid open the screen as requested. Then I took my first careful look at my surroundings.

As Mitsuhide had implied, my new room was still in the same living area of the castle, which meant that I was three floors up and facing the back of the castle. There was at least one major difference, however; there was only a short, rather steep eave of tiled roof in front of my window, instead of access onto a much wider area with a comfortable slope.

"Sasuke? You can look for yourself—I don't see anyone."

Sasuke nodded, and peered cautiously out through the window. Unlike me, he gave the layout below only a cursory glance before examining the area above. Shortly afterward, he gently closed the wood and paper shade and slid down to sit on the floor, his back against the wall. I sat down awkwardly beside him, unsure what to do. For lack of better ideas, I took the lid off a nearby ceramic jar. The water inside wasn't for drinking; rather, it was designed to help cool the room. I could use whatever cooling was available.

"Roof access from above is difficult, but not impossible," he murmured, mostly to himself. "But one would be very exposed to attack from both above and below. I believe that Lord Mitsuhide is correct: there is only one reasonably usable access route under present circumstances, and it's internal. That's unfortunate."

"Sasuke? Can we talk?"

He slowly lifted his head and met my eyes, but although he appeared as impassive as usual, I could now see a definite flush in his cheeks. Then his brown eyes flicked away and down for a moment, and it appeared to require a significant effort to drag them back.

"Chieko. I owe you an apology. Two apologies, in fact. I hope you will allow me to at least partially redeem myself." He turned so that he was facing me properly, and bowed deeply. It made me feel very uncomfortable, and rather lonely. "Moushiwake arimasen deshita."

"Sasuke… Whatever you think you're apologizing for, that's way over the top." I tried to keep my tone even, but half-formed anxieties were swirling through my brain. My inner voice—or saner self?— wasn't impressed. You're worrying more about this relationship than about having your life controlled by Mitsuhide! Talk about weird priorities and a previously sub-standard dating life. The whisper in my mind was unaccompanied by Lord Snaky-Smile, but managed to mock me just fine on its own. I pressed on. "No, seriously… Sasuke, if you don't raise your head and start being more twenty-first century boyfriend than sixteenth century ninja, you're really going to start freaking me out."

Sasuke immediately sat up, his eyes wide and just a little panicked—although maybe that was my overactive imagination. He gingerly took my left hand. "So… we're still going out? I wasn't quite sure. It would not be unreasonable for you to change your mind."

"Change my mind?" I repeated, puzzled.

I thought I saw the ghost of a smile cross Sasuke's face. "Most women aren't as resilient as you are when faced with possible imprisonment, torture, and death." He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then added: "Not that I've spoken at length to many women, and none—other than you—who have recently been threatened with those outcomes in my presence. My assumption may be faulty."

"Well, I can't say I'm thrilled about the possible options, but how is it your fault that Mitsuhide has peculiar tastes in recreational activities?"

Sasuke looked away again, although at least he held onto my hand. His response was what I expected—now that I'd thought it through a little.

"Lord Mitsuhide's behaviour is both logical and surprisingly forbearing for this era. He is taking reasonable precautions against being associated with a probable enemy spy should things go wrong. That's much more difficult now that people know he's seen me. He might not have seen me if I'd arrived sooner and left sooner last week. It would have been much less likely, at least. And you wouldn't be under suspicion if he hadn't been able to connect you to me, which was entirely my fault. Among other things, I took a chance by leaving directly through your window. It is only because the Oda warlords hold you in such high regard that you are still relatively free. Unless Lord Mitsuhide has ulterior motives."

I was going to point out that Mitsuhide always had ulterior motives, but something told me that Sasuke already knew that.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were going to follow me here?" I asked. "Mitsuhide wasn't wrong when he said that it was very risky for you. Maybe if I'd known, it would have gone better."

Sasuke shifted uncomfortably. "Well… I don't know quite how to say this, but your expression tends to lend itself to openness and honesty—which I admire. However, since I was still hoping to find a way in to see you undetected, I wanted any watchers to assume that you were on your own."

I sighed. "You thought my expression, or whatever, would give you away. Fine. At least you put it more nicely than Mitsuhide. You know, if this is going to be the last time I get to see you for a while, then maybe we could at least sit together for a few minutes?" Do you realize how much you care about this man? Is it getting through to you?

"I'm supposed to be putting together a list of my previous comings and goings. You'll be safer when that's done." I couldn't tell what Sasuke was thinking, but his answer disappointed me. Not that he was wrong, but he'd been a lot more passionate, and a lot less reserved, earlier in the afternoon. Then I told myself to get a grip and be reasonable—the situation had changed since then.

"Oh." I tried for neutral, but it still came out sounding sad.

Sasuke's gaze sharpened, and he scrutinized my face intently. I thought I saw or sensed surprise under the stoic mask. Before I could say anything further, he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed each finger in turn, before pulling me into his lap and cradling me against his chest. As before, his heartbeat wasn't nearly as calm as his expression. I snuggled as close as I could, curling my free hand into his tunic. It was a relief, despite the heat. Note to self: I think I'm falling in love. When did this happen? By return memo: Duh. And work on the meaning of the word 'falling'; we discussed this.

"I wasn't sure what you thought of me, after my inappropriate behaviour with you earlier…" His voice was subdued, and he sounded even guiltier than he had when he'd apologized for getting me into trouble with Mitsuhide and possibly the other Oda warlords.

"Inappropriate behaviour?" I was genuinely confused, and not sure how to react.

"I meant to kiss you, not attack you. Having you fall on me clouded my judgement. I'm very sorry about that. I had hoped to strike a balance between being boldly assertive—as recommended by Lord Shingen—and being respectful of your comfort and boundaries, which is just… just… the right thing to do… Chieko?"

He probably stopped because I was doing my best to remind him that whatever we'd done, we'd done it together. Specifically, I was running my fingers over his neck and upper chest, and liking what I found. He was probably the world's most athletic geek, and he was mine—except for a bit of unfortunate overthinking. Yes, Mitsuhide could theoretically have us arrested, or impounded, or whatever the right word was. But he'd given us until sundown, and that was still quite a ways off. He—Mitsuhide—was undeniably a master at intrigue and deception, and would probably lie sooner than tell the truth, but I was going to bet on him keeping his word within the boundaries he'd set out.

I looked up when Sasuke ran out of words. "You managed boldly assertive very well," I assured him, fingers still stroking the skin just below his collar bone. "And my boundaries appear to be very flexible around you." Or pretty much non-existent. "I'll have you know that I turned down Lord Nobunaga himself—although Hideyoshi almost killed me for objecting to his grabby hands. Nobunaga's hands, I mean."

"Yes… you told me about that. It made me anxious for you—given the more or less absolute rights of high-ranking samurai in this era—but you managed the Oda warlords quite well after that. I still don't know—"

Before he could finish the sentence, I pressed my finger against his lips.

"We don't have unlimited time. You've got to be out of here before sundown—by a reasonable margin so that I don't have a heart attack—and I'm determined to get Mitsuhide to let me resume my normal duties after that. Plus, before you go, you have a list to write."

"…I take it that you're willing to take the chance that Lord Mitsuhide is telling the truth?" I couldn't blame him for sounding dubious.

"About staying out of my—this—room for the rest of the afternoon? Yes. But you're clearly in more danger than I am, so it's your call. What do you want to do? I'm absolutely certain that one way or another you'll get us to Kyoto in time to catch our wormhole home. If you want to write up your note for Mitsuhide, and then figure out the quickest, safest way to leave, I'm good with that." I wouldn't like it very much, and my body wasn't onside at all, but I could be sensible. Probably. Being this close was giving me all sorts of ideas.

Sasuke's stoic demeanour was cracking. He looked visibly conflicted.

"I don't want to make things worse, and they could be much worse. At the same time, I don't want to let go of you. A number of Lord Mitsuhide's actions and comments made me very uncomfortable—about your safety. However, it was clear to me that I had to remain silent; I hypothesize that he was testing my discretion as well as exploring your motives."

"It's okay. I wasn't expecting you to jump out of the ceiling to defend me."

Sasuke was suddenly looking down at me from close quarters, hands on my shoulders and eyes narrowed, as if my words had triggered something that he'd been trying to suppress. This time there was no conflict in his expression, only frustration verging on anger.

"Whether you were expecting me or not, I did want to defend you. I didn't like the way he handled and threatened you." Sasuke's hands tightened on my shoulders. It was finally making sense to me now how a number of Mitsuhide's comments had been aimed at provoking Sasuke, not just me. "I wonder if I've been here too long," he continued. "It wasn't easy to stay hidden. I had to remind myself that you would not appreciate any unnecessary violence, and that I could intervene if something drastic happened—at least for long enough for you to escape."

"Oh no, no, no… We are not going to discuss you sacrificing yourself or anything like that. Nobody dies, and in four or five weeks, we go home."

Sasuke stared at me from behind his glasses, and then his lips twitched briefly into a classic Sasuke smile, complete with hints of humour, self-deprecation, and shyness. "Sorry. That was melodramatic on my part. "

"This whole era is melodrama, isn't it? Though I do my best to keep things moderately normal." I was babbling. The smile was turning me to mush and heating me up all over at the same time. Why wasn't he—oh.

My eyes closed and I drew in a long, deep breath when my hair was brushed aside and warm lips closed gently on my temple, and then trailed kisses down toward my jaw. I wanted to tell him "Good choice, I wanted you to stay," but it came out as something embarrassing like "Finally."

"I couldn't resist," Sasuke murmured in the vicinity of my ear, sounding slightly defensive. "The most rational choice by a significant margin is to leave as soon as possible, but I wanted to kiss you again and your expression..." His teeth gently worried at my lower lip, and one of his hands found its way to the back of my head to pull me closer. I could feel his body tensing against me and under me. "You looked like you wanted—"

"You weren't wrong…" I turned a little and leaned into the kiss, feeling his tongue slip between my lips and the slight hitch in his breath when I shifted further so that I could wrap my arms around his neck.

As though we had all the time in the world at our disposal, we made the most of this kiss, parting to breathe, but never for long. Soft, deep, longing—loving?—kisses; harder, deeper, passionate kisses. Our problems became a hazy blur in my mind, not quite forgotten but worth putting aside for as long as possible.

"I don't pick very good times for this," Sasuke said eventually, looking slightly drunk, and very much the opposite of cool and collected. I tried to find it endearing—I mean, it was—but my mind was more focused on things like "too many damn clothes" and "don't care if somebody walks in so help me…"

"When in the Sengoku," I reminded him, leaning back a little to watch his face.

"Jeopardizing our safety for a kiss?"

"I can totally imagine Masamune saying it was worth it." Not that he would stop with a kiss, if he could get away with it. …Heaven help me I was citing Masamune as a role model.

"Date Masamune is one of the most powerful warlords of this time."

"So? He said you were an excellent ninja—and a surprisingly strong swordsman—as I recall. That's very high praise."

"Yes. While I remain loyal to my current employer—"

"Who is clearly mentally unstable."

"—It is gratifying to have job offers from both Lord Masamune and Lord Mitsuhide."

He sounded calm, but he wasn't, and I didn't want him to be. Problem was, I knew that his head was still in conflict with the rest of him. I'd been there before and recognized the symptoms, even on a super-stoic astrophysicist-ninja. But I'd been listening to his heartbeat, and I was sitting in his lap. Some reactions weren't so easy to hide.

"Sasuke? You always worry about me, but what do you want? I said it was up to you, but you never really answered." His face was already flushed, but his cheeks darkened further. That suggested possibilities that were far more appealing than they should be—given the time and place, and our very new relationship. You must really, really like this guy if a blush is turning you on—turning you on more, that is. I didn't bother to argue.

"I should… prioritize our safety." Sasuke's voice was low-pitched and tense. "There is no rush, probably. For us, I mean. I expect to survive any immediate battles."

"Okay, I guess. But you're dodging the question. Again." I ran my fingers over Sasuke's face, tracing his features and lingering on his mouth, before moving to the line of his jaw. It wasn't playing fair, but Mitsuhide—and Nobunaga, and Masamune, and even mother-hen Hideyoshi—had taught me that life in the Sengoku was pretty much anything but fair, so you had to make up your mind and take some chances. In fact, there weren't any guarantees in modern-day Japan either, just better percentages. Or was I just rationalizing my behaviour? If you need to ask that question…

"…I'm not very good with words." Sasuke's eyes had half-closed, but he opened them in order to study my face again. His gaze still retained a measure of its usual piercing inquiry.

"I don't know about that—you're pretty eloquent on the subject of ground spikes."

I let my hands rest on Sasuke's shoulders, leaving myself open to his scrutiny. I felt pretty self-conscious—who wouldn't?—well, other than about half the Oda warlords, who just didn't do self-conscious—wait, where was I? Trying not to totally throw yourself at the cute ninja while he's in danger of torture and death? Or maybe trying to incite the cute ninja to throw himself at you instead, so that you don't feel quite so guilty about it? …Which isn't very nice. I was reluctantly acknowledging the uncomfortable possibility of the latter, when the cute ninja took my face in an almost crushing grip and kissed me breathless.

Oh wow. In that instant, I caught a glimpse of how Sasuke had accomplished so much in four years: when he was focussed, he was driven. His mouth was greedy on mine, demanding everything, and stealing away every breath and soft moan. I found myself on the tatami under him, with no clear memory of having gotten there and no desire to be anywhere else. Hands as strong as Mitsuhide's—and just as unyielding—held my wrists to the floor by my head. Unlike earlier in the afternoon, I was conscious of having willingly ceded control to somebody a lot stronger and heavier than I was. It was as if I kept having to relearn that Sasuke was a lot more than an awkward Sengoku fanboy cosplaying a sixteenth-century ninja. My body knew it, my heart knew it—wait what?—but my brain persisted in seeing an attractive but awkward grad student.

My lips were abraded and swollen by the time I was allowed to breathe freely again, but it was sensation and need that had choked off my ability to form words. I managed a sound between a moan and a whimper when the next hard kiss found the soft skin just below my left ear and immediately became an insistent, skin-breaking bite. Instead of moving on, as he had with my collarbone earlier in the afternoon, Sasuke continued to deepen the bruise.

"Nnnnnngggh… Sa-suke?" I spoke his name in a hoarse whisper, and his mouth lifted from my neck. A moment later, he let go of my wrists and sat back on his heels, across my hips. When I looked up at him, I saw a kind of grim satisfaction lurking behind the heat in his eyes. His breathing was ragged, and when he spoke, his voice was darker and rougher than it had been before. Maybe I should have been upset, but all I felt was curiosity and rapidly escalating desire.

"…He kept touching you. He deliberately set out to intimidate you by physically restraining you and compelling your obedience. A standard interrogation technique, of course; I know that. I can't fault his reasoning or execution. But the way he went about it—the way he held you and forced you to look at him…" Sasuke took a deep breath, and then scrubbed a hand across his forehead, wiping away sweat and hiding his expression.

He sounded a little more like himself when he spoke next, but still keyed up. "I know that jealousy is a pointless, even reprehensible emotion. Also, being possessive is neither logical, nor appropriate, although it is a common failing. …I never expected to feel this way." The last words were spoken mostly to himself. I found him strangely unapologetic, given his usual courteous and considerate behaviour. Something or someone—probably a mind-reading snake—had pushed buttons that I'd never even considered in relation to Sasuke.

I stared up at him, and lifted a hand to my neck. That was going to be one hell of a bruise, although adrenaline and endorphins were more than compensating for any discomfort. And he'd done it partly—or more than partly—to get back at Mitsuhide in some way? Or as a warning? More like a mark; stop avoiding the thought. The suspicion that I should be concerned about his motivation grew—but I was having trouble thinking much past the weight across my hips. There was nothing mild or dispassionate about the expression on Sasuke's face right now, and that just made me want him more. It was ridiculous, and possibly dangerous, and I didn't need a voice in my head to tell me—again—that the time and place were all wrong.

Sasuke's fingers brushed damp tendrils of hair from my face and rested briefly on my cheek. The gesture wasn't, in itself, suggestive, but there was heat in every contact now, and muscles tightened from my abdomen to my thighs, responsive to his shift in weight. Ridiculous or not, dangerous or not—

"Are you sure you aren't upset with me about this?" he asked suddenly. The fingers skimmed along the fabric covering the line of bruises on my collarbone, and my skin quivered in reaction.

"Positive." I kept my voice as steady as I could. Was he really still worried about that or was there something else? I couldn't tell.

"Or for letting you get trapped here by Lord Mitsuhide?" And very softly: "Without stepping in to help."

"I'm sure. In fact, I'm a lot more worried about y—"

"If you want me to go, you'll have to say so."

I drew in a sharp breath at the uncompromising words, and then all but stopped breathing. I hadn't noticed him unfastening the upper ties of my summer-weight kimono and sheer under-kimono. His hand was now pressed flat against the skin between my breasts. Only my obi, fastened tightly with a bow in the back, held the thin silk and gauzy linen partially closed. Whatever happened now, there was no opium to excuse it.

I licked my lips and swallowed, knowing that he could feel my heart pounding, and the heat of my skin. "I… don't know if I can send you away," I whispered. All of my attention was focused on his hand—strong and lean, a little more calloused than I'd realized; no longer the hand of a twenty-first century grad student. He probably used or trained with a weapon every day. "I should, though." I finally raised my eyes to his, feeling desperately torn. I never should have teased him earlier; I should have known, or guessed, that feelings ran deep with him.

His expression was… I'd never seen or imagined him with that look. Intense, reckless, burning—completely committed to his current path despite knowing the potential costs.

"…You asked me what I wanted. I want to touch you. As much and as far as you'll allow. I want us to be lovers, whatever that means to you. You told Lord Mitsuhide that we weren't exactly lovers, and you only recanted under duress. So tell me"—his free hand set his glasses aside and deftly unwound and discarded the green cowl that sat like a scarf on his shoulders—"what will it take?"

Oh… Oh sweet gods and goddesses… Some part of my mind registered that he'd been hurt by my denial, and I truly regretted that. The rest of me felt his words like a jolt to every lust-inflamed nerve-ending, and I swear my vision blurred. Sasuke had never lost sight of his promise to get me back to the modern day safe and sound, and he'd risked himself time and again to look out for me. But he really wanted this—wanted me—in the here and now.

"I was wrong." My voice wasn't working properly, so I cleared my throat.

Sasuke just kept watching me, both patient and impatient. Focused. The hand on my chest was heavy, even without weight behind it; I wondered if he felt the same heat from that connection as I did.

"I was wrong—about not being lovers. I'm so sorry." I meant it. I'd known better since we first kissed. "Mitsuhide always winds me up, and—"

"Leave him out of this."

Right. "Sasuke…" My head was still playing catch-up with my body, but was no longer so far behind. "You've done as much as anyone could do. You don't need to do more, of prove something, I swear. And"—I reached out to touch his arm, sliding my hand along bone and sinew—"I want what you want."

"The time is wrong… and the place is wrong… We both know that." But his hand moved, caressing the soft curve of one breast through the fine silk.

"Mmmmm… True…" I arched my back and felt my toes curl, just in anticipation of feeling his touch directly on my skin.

"And I can't promise—I don't have—" He caught my head as it fell back, bending down to kiss my lips as his fingers traced circles around a nipple that was already tight with arousal. When he let his palm slide over it and around it, I moaned, and then bit my lip in an effort not to be so loud. I pressed myself upward into his hand, and even more tightly against his hips. The angle was wrong; I couldn't alleviate the heat and tension coiled within the wet folds of overheated skin surrounding both my core and the sensitive bundle of nerves that ached most for a lover's touch.

"What—are—you… nnnggggghhhh…" More slowly than I wanted, Sasuke's hand slid under the still-confining fabric of my kimono and began to stroke the sensitive, sensitized skin beneath; I could feel the tension in his fingers now, and the slight tremor in his body that spoke of forced restraint in the face of overwhelming desire and emotion.

It felt strange to be so vulnerable in front of him, and there wasn't even the cover of darkness to alleviate the feeling. I'd always tried to seem as confident as possible when he'd dropped by, as a matter of pride and so that he wouldn't worry. But now I was almost shaking with need, and pride was crumbling before lust. Good to know the sins have their uses… Even my snarky inner voice was less than coherent.

"Do you think… you could see me—just me—despite the others?" The words were halting, even as he continued to caress my skin. My whole body was burning, aching to be touched more; my hands, balked of the ability to reciprocate, kept reaching out to him, trying to draw him closer. I couldn't understand what he was trying to tell me. "I want you, all of you—even at the wrong time… and in the… wrong place." He turned his attention to my other breast, pushing the fabric roughly aside this time. "Will you have me?" His fingers stroked and teased the hard bud of the nipple until I finally managed to wrench him down on top of me so that I could kiss him—lips, throat, chest.

"…Stupid, clingy, ninja clothes…" The tunic was knitted as well as belted—impossible to remove without real effort. I gave up and twisted my hands in Sasuke's hair, kissing him as hard, as demandingly as he'd kissed me before. I loved the feeling of his body on mine, although the hard length of his cock against my thigh was at once exciting and a reminder that there were still decisions to make that I wanted to ignore.

"Chieko." Sasuke grabbed my upper arms, pinning me to the floor and propping himself up on his elbows. "You need to understand—"

"Whatever it is—"

"You are surrounded by powerful men. And I'm not—Oda Nobunaga, or Toyotomi Hideyoshi, or Tokugawa Ieyasu… Or the kitsune, Akechi." The way he said the last name suggested that he wasn't a fan.

"He's more of a snake," I muttered.

"Chieko…"

"Sasuke, I'm all yours. You're going to have to take my word for it, and trust your judgment. That's how it goes."

He buried his face in my chest, wrapping his arms around my waist. Then he found my breast with his mouth, and let his tongue caress the nipple. I clutched at his hair, moaning; how could he not understand what he was doing to me? Or maybe he did. I was already a panting, needy mess by the time he turned his attention to my other breast, still pinning my lower body under his, his strong arms holding me still when I started to writhe.

When he looked up at last, he had the feverish look from before.

"Clothes…"

"Mm-hm." Finally!

I watched with lust-induced unselfconsciousness as Sasuke sat back on his heels and stripped off belt, tunic, and kimono-shirt. It was absolutely worth the wait, I decided, entranced by his sure, swift movements, and the lean torso and tightly-toned arms that emerged from all the fabric. Muscles and tendons stood out in sharp definition under the mostly-smooth skin, and I longed to be able to touch him, to run my hands over it all.

Sure enough, there was a barely-healed wound on his lower ribs, which still looked painful, although Sasuke had evinced no trace of pain in any of his movements. Then I noticed that the forming scar was hardly the only one there. Impelled by concern, my eyes traced the lines—some faint and white, others more puckered. What the hell had happened to him?

I suddenly realized that Sasuke had stopped moving, and was sitting quite still, watching my face. I loved how he looked, stripped to the waist, flushed with desire, and need raced through me all over again—to be held against him, skin to skin, with nothing between us. He looked away for a moment, then shrugged in something like embarrassment, still not quite meeting my eyes.

"I just wasn't fast enough, when I first got here. I underestimated the training required. That's all. I'm fine now. Please don't worry about it."

"That's not going to work for me, but I can put off worrying for a while longer."

"…Thank you." There was real relief in his tone, and then he rose and stood me on my feet in order to first unfasten, and then unwind, my pretty obi. My kimono, free of the belt and already most of the way off my shoulders, slid to the floor and pooled around my feet. In the custom of the time—as strange as it had been, at first—I wore no undergarments other than the under-kimono, and it clung to me for only a moment before following both obi and kimono. For the first time that day, shyness overtook desire, and I was glad to be facing away.

Sasuke's arm wound around me from behind, and a hand brushed my tumbled hair forward off my shoulders so that we were finally skin-to-skin. Desire came flooding back, heat radiating from the place where his arm held me just under my breasts. Then his lips touched my ear, warm and soft and almost too gentle. I clung tightly to his arm, my head falling back against his chest. The sensation on my ear grew stronger, as lips were joined by tongue and teeth. I felt my knees start to buckle, and the rise and fall of Sasuke's chest against my back sped up, his breath becoming more of a rasp. When his free hand moved from exploring the curve on my waist and hip to caressing my breast, I moaned aloud despite myself, and tried to turn so that I could allow my hands free rein over my lover's skin. I didn't get my way, and it was almost too much.

"Sasuke…" His name came out in a rough whisper. I tried again. "Sasuke… please…" The muscles within my core kept contracting, and I was already so wet with desire. I couldn't imagine more sensation, but I craved it in order to find some kind of release. "Touch me everywhere, let me touch you, please…"

I felt, as much as heard, the sharp hiss of indrawn breath, and then the arm around my ribs slid to my waist. After the barest hesitation, warm fingers began to stroke the soft skin of my lower belly, fingertips brushing across the top of the curls of damp hair concealing my most sensitive, most intimate places. I really did stumble then, but I was suddenly picked up and cradled in Sasuke's arms, and held tightly to his chest.

"Chieko… I want you even more than I imagined… I want all of you… But—"

I pulled his head down to mine, kissing the words from his lips, winding my tongue in his. A very short time later, I was gently laid down on something soft—my futon?—and I finally got most of my wish. Almost as soon as I touched the cool linen, Sasuke's weight settled against me, and a leg wound over mine. His lips once again found my mouth, and ear, and neck, as though he couldn't get enough of kissing me and tasting my skin. I pressed myself closer to him, and then ran my hands through his hair, and across his broad shoulders, and down his side, careful of the injury that he seemed to so completely disregard. As soon as his mouth left mine, I set my lips and teeth against his skin and set about marking him as he'd marked me earlier in the afternoon.

"Chieko."

"Mmmm… But it's my turn…" While my mouth teased and sucked and nipped at his skin, my hand trailed down to trace around his hip bone, and then lower still, to slide over the taught muscle of his outer thigh. I was gratified by a distinct, involuntary tremor at my touch. He was still only half-undressed though, which seemed unfair.

"Chieko—wait. How far… I need to know… I can't promise..." To my surprise, Sasuke set his hands on my shoulders and pushed me far enough away that he could see my face. Had I done something wrong?

"Hmm?" Despite my concern, I smiled to see him there beside me, his face no longer expressionless, his skin bare and warm and inviting to the touch. I hadn't really forgotten our situation, but it felt remote, and I hoped it would stay that way for a while longer. "Okay. I'll listen. Promise." I started to reach out again, then pulled back my hand. Was it weird how much I liked touching him?

"Thanks." He pushed damp hair back from his forehead, and then slid his down from my shoulder to my hip.

"That's… not helping. If you want me to listen, I mean."

"Right." He carefully stilled his hand, and visibly collected himself, looking aside in the way that he so often did. When he looked up again, his face was nearly devoid of expression for the first time in quite a while. "…There's no adequate method here… not really… of birth control." He kept his eyes steady on mine, and if he was embarrassed it didn't show. That helped, to a point, sort of. "That doesn't mean—that is, there are other ways… to be together."

Of course there were. And I wanted to explore those possibilities—just not right this moment. What I wanted, more than anything, was for us to be as close as we could possibly be, to have him within me, to feel that intense pleasure together, if we could manage it. Part of me was frustrated—almost irritated—that Sasuke hadn't just allowed me—us—to let passion get the better of good sense. It would have been easier. Then it hit me that it was deep, consistent concern and affection—that's a pretty weak word, are you serious?—for me that had made him push me to make a clear decision.

"…Chieko?" The level tone now held a hint of anxiety. "I should have said something sooner—I did try—but that seemed… presumptuous… And it's been difficult to think straight." Yes, yes it had.

"Sasuke." I whispered his name, not out of a need to be quiet, but because I was trying to come to terms with how much he meant to me.

He pulled me close again, and I lay there for a moment, soaking in his warmth.

"You don't—you won't—regret taking a chance?" I asked.

"No." The answer was quick, firm, absolutely certain. I felt my heart pound against my ribs.

"Then… even though it's… totally cliché"—and you know what, dear Snake? cliché isn't so bad—"take me, I'm yours." I couldn't help a grin, all of a sudden elated with life, and laughing at myself for using such an old line, at such a time, and meaning every word of it.

"I—really?" The hopeful surprise in Sasuke's voice just made me want to laugh more, for some reason. When he suddenly pinned me under him, and pressed his forehead to mine, I saw that that he was smiling, although the desire was vivid in the flush on his cheeks and around his eyes. "…I hope you're prepared—I won't go easy on you."

"No—Sasuke—seriously? Anime again?"

But that was as far as I got, as first my mouth was claimed, and then everything else. Feverish hands stroked my body—arms, sides, breasts, hips, belly, thighs—and finally, finally, caressed and explored the slick, wet folds guarding my core. Oh sweet gods… oh fuck… oh wow… My blood roared in my ears, and instead of being able to reciprocate his touch, I felt my head go back with a wordless, desperate moan.

My hips writhed, utterly beyond my control, when fingers slid inside me, tentatively at first but then with greater assurance, stroking my slick inner walls until my muscles began to convulse. More heat—how was that even possible—and then overwhelming, aching sensation, as the pad of his thumb found and rubbed the tight, engorged bundles of nerves at the very apex of my slit.

"Mmmmmm—nnnnnngghhhhhh—Sa-suke—need you—want you—so much…"

A short—but too-long—pause—and then hand and fingers returned, and his mouth suckled a breast, while one leg hooked tightly around mine as if to close whatever gap was possible. His cock, hard and already wet, pressed deep into my thigh, and somewhere among all the rest, I registered intense satisfaction at knowing that we were both finally, completely naked together, skin to skin in the most intimate way.

Sasuke finally shifted, trailing kisses up my chest and neck to my mouth. He was back on top of me again, breathing heavily, eyes unfocussed. My hands clung to his back, fingers tight on his skin, as he ground himself against me. I couldn't hear my own moaning, whimpering sounds for the blood rushing in my ears.

His mouth moved from my lips and neck to my ear.

"Now? Is that… okay?"

"Okay? Yes… any time—please—" I squirmed against him, so wet I would have been embarrassed if I hadn't been completely past rational—or even irrational—thought.

I felt the head of his cock slide over trembling, pulsing folds, press hard against the tight entrance to my core. Then with a low groan that goaded my arousal to desperation, he thrust into me, hard and deep, holding nothing back. I know I cried out, my fingers clawing at his skin as I tried to pull him in ever farther, and deeper. Make me yours, I whispered to him in my mind, and be mine. I want everything you have to give. Then there was nothing left in the world but the need to move together, reaching for and claiming every sweeping wave of pleasure, every intense, scorching moment of our bodies joined together.

When I reached my limit, orgasm overtaking and drowning all other sensation, I found his name on my lips like a prayer, and it tasted sweet and familiar. Sasuke… I think… No, I know… I love you. I cherish you. I want to be with you no matter what. How did this happen to me? My body shuddered around him, and my teeth closed on his shoulder. A moment later, I felt his release within me, hot and hard, all rhythm overset by the short, wild thrusts of climax. His cry was incoherent, his face vulnerable in passion. I love you—I just didn't know, before. I'm happy, so happy that I got to find out. I felt tears on my cheeks, from the still pulsing, overwhelming release, and from emotional overload.

Fingers, strong and competent, brushed away the tears. Sasuke kissed me softly, first on the corner of one eye, then on the cheek, and finally on the lips.

"Chieko—please—please tell me that I didn't hurt you in any way…"

The anxiety in his voice brought me back to myself and reality.

"No… not at all… no. I feel wonderful. Maybe a bit overwhelmed with—with everything. I think we should stay together forever." The last part slipped out unbidden.

To my surprise, Sasuke's response came immediately. "We will." Then he rolled onto his back, pulling me with him to lie in the hollow of his shoulder, bodies still touching all along my length. "I hope you won't mind too much."

I laughed, still quivering and euphoric. "No… And you can show me the stars."

"Yes. Although in point of fact I'm studying astrophysics, not astronomy. …Looking at the stars is just a hobby."

"That's fine, I've noticed you're pretty good at your hobbies."

"Chieko?"

"Mm-hm?"

"I couldn't say this earlier—or rather, I didn't want you to think it was just… a line." I went still, my eyes fixed on his profile. He turned his head, his brown eyes clear and calm. "I love you." He shrugged awkwardly—especially awkwardly since I was lying on one shoulder. "You may already know that, but I wanted to tell you anyway."

On the off chance that you're spying on us, Mitsuhide, I hope this is causing cavities. But… thank you for giving me this. Because I think you did. Maybe. Did you have to shoot my boyfriend first, though?

"This is a pretty good anime," I told Sasuke, finally finding the energy to prop myself up on his—very, very nice—chest. "I'm no expert, but aren't we short a few totally-avoidable misunderstandings and one unnecessary parting?"

"And several interfering friends who try to help but just make things worse. And rain. The next time it rains I'll come find you so that we can kiss in the rain." He sounded thoughtful. Very Sasuke. I gave up on staring into his face and snuggled into him instead.

After several blissful minutes, I finally looked over at the light filtering in around the window-screen. It wasn't fair... I sat up, only a little shy about my tumbled hair and naked body. I let my hand wander over the planes of Sasuke's chest, trying not to think too hard about the scars on his sides, arms, and—now visible—legs. There weren't as many as I'd thought, and he'd obviously made his peace with them. Then I leaned over to kiss his lips.

"You're probably trying to figure out how to say that you have to go without making it sound like you want to go," I told him. "But it's okay. Despite how things went—which I can't regret—I really do want you to be safe."

"…Thank you." Sasuke trapped my hand against his chest, but didn't otherwise move. "We've still got well over an hour until sunset, although I wish it were more. It won't take me long to write a concise report for Lord Mitsuhide—I'm good at reports."

"Oh?" My attempt at being cool and practical was sabotaged by my treacherous body.

"I want to make love to you again."

He said it quietly, but decisively, and I felt my heartbeat rise along with the heat in my cheeks. When he pulled me down on top of him, I went willingly.

[END—FOR NOW]

A/Note: I always appreciate feedback (I prefer positive feedback, but constructive ideas for improvement are good too, promise). I'm new to writing for IkeSen, though not writing. Requests are currently closed, but I have plans for a Masamune fic, a Masamune-Mitsuhide drabble, and hopefully some Kenshin. We'll see. I have other writing to catch up on!