Canine Impulses (2/2)

Outside the pristine doors, he let out a long sigh. More trouble than they’re fucking worth, he reflected bitterly as he took off up the street toward home.

All such ungenerous thoughts about his friends (and, indeed, all his rational or semi-rational thoughts on any subject) were obliterated when he turned a corner and found Saitou, not a block from the dojo, smoking calmly alone and watching the lane in the direction Sano was headed.

This really was too much. Most of the previous encounters had been set up to look like chance, at least on their rudimentary surface level and to others, but now here was Saitou deliberately standing around at some random point on Sano’s route home very obviously waiting for him. It was more than he could bear.

Clenching his fists, he stalked over to the wolf and demanded, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Saitou turned toward him coolly. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” The tone was that of a question.

“It turns into my goddamn business when you quit even pretending it’s a fucking coincidence we keep running into each other. What do you fucking want?”

“From you?” Saitou asked, his narrowed eyes giving Sano the slow once-over to which Sano was becoming sadly accustomed. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Right.” Yet again Sano had to grit his teeth against the desire to call Saitou on this utter bullshit. “Of course.” If the cop didn’t want anything from him, he wouldn’t be here deliberately tormenting him… but, again, to raise this point would require admitting it did torment him. “Why would I think you standing around here like you’re waiting for me actually has anything to do with me?” Knowing Saitou was already quite aware of Sano’s condition and admitting to that condition were two completely different things.

“I wouldn’t care to guess why you think anything you do,” Saitou answered disdainfully. The motion he made as he said this, tossing his cigarette down and turning slightly as if to watch it fall, drew Sano’s eyes first to his unusually bare hand, then to the spot just beneath his ear where neck and jaw met. But Sano tore his gaze away before he could start reflecting on the harsh elegance of Saitou’s physical attributes.

“Yeah, same here,” he muttered, and even he wasn’t sure whether he was attempting to throw the insult back at Saitou or agreeing about the futility of trying to comprehend his own mental state.

“And if I wanted anything from you,” the wolf continued, “I could have had it long ago.”

Sano, who had turned to escape, pleased with himself for getting out of this situation so quickly, was frozen abruptly where he stood by this statement. It wasn’t so much the words themselves — maddening though they were — as the way they’d been spoken: a softer, more intimate tone than any he’d ever heard from Saitou, containing an undeniably personal sound — a feeling of you know what I mean — and an edge… Sano could only call it… seductive… He hadn’t thought Saitou capable of that, but it made perfect sense the officer would only employ it in saying something so antithetic to seduction.

Not that it mattered what he’d said; he could have been reading a grocery list in that tone and it would have stopped Sano in his tracks, dragged him back, set his heart pounding wildly. Entirely against his will the younger man turned again and looked at the older. The latter was a mere step away, much closer than Sano had thought; he could easily close the distance and…

“Yes?” Saitou said mildly, watching Sano with smirking unconcern, as if they’d just had some sort of normal conversation and Sano turning back at this point merely indicated something he’d forgotten to mention and not a nearly unconquerable desire for public sodomy.

Sano, captivated by the glint in Saitou’s narrowed eyes, had nothing to say.

Observing this, Saitou’s twisted smile grew. “Well, good night,” he remarked, and started to turn.

To this Sano did have a reply. “Goddammit, I fucking hate you so much,” he burst out in ultimate frustration. Clenching a fist, he intended to hit Saitou full-force, for all the gesture was more defeated than challenging, but Saitou raised his own hand and caught Sano’s with little effort.

“So I’ve noticed.”

At the hot tremor that moved through Sano’s form as Saitou’s ungloved hand kept hold of his, Sano by now could not be remotely surprised. He took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. “Fuck you,” he whispered.

The very solid heat of Saitou’s body moving forward almost against Sano’s made him stifle a gasp; he felt like he was swaying, about to fall over, dizzy with the burning and the desire, divided between wishing that Saitou would do a whole hell of a lot more than just stand very close to him and that Saitou would fucking die and go to hell this very moment. A hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him even closer, and breath moved across his face; Saitou was going to kiss him. Sano, in a sort of continual shudder, found his face tilting upward without having willed his muscles to do so; his lips parted and he tasted the cigarette flavor of Saitou’s proximity as he drew breath.

And then nothing happened.

He opened his eyes to find the infuriating golden ones of the other man very close to his, the officer’s narrow, sculpted lips half an inch from his, and on Saitou’s face an expression that was unalloyed rage-inducing smugness.

Sano tore away, his own face twisting irately, his legs weak, his heart pounding violently much like the throbbing in his prominent erection. Stumbling backward, he clenched both hands into fists. He wanted to punch Saitou; actually, he needed to punch Saitou, several times, right in his goddamn smirking face, but he didn’t dare go close to him. “Fuck you,” he said again in a hoarse growl.

If anything, Saitou’s smile widened.

Sano backed up another three faltering steps, his eyes locked on Saitou’s and his entire body threatening to shrug off his mental control and do something he would really regret, then turned jerkily and ran.

He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

After that he went on a semi-destructive rampage through some of the trashier neighborhoods near his own, pulling his punches only when not doing so might have gotten him arrested (a night in jail was the very, very last thing he needed right now). This made him feel slightly better for a few moments here and there throughout the night, and the relatively unfamiliar sensation of swiftly-approaching sleep born of exhaustion was a definite comfort, but none of it changed the fact he had to face in the morning:

He was about to break.

With this painful and aggravating awareness, which seemed the coloration of his thoughts the next day, came a voice almost more desperate than angry echoing through his head, Kyoto… Kyoto… No arguments, in particular, accompanied this to combat the heated retort, I am not letting that asshole force me to move to another fucking city! …just the constant reiteration, Kyoto… Kyoto… and the knowledge that down that road lay escape.

Possibly.

As his heavy footsteps traversed the streets absently and irately, related concepts swirled through his turbulent head: options he had in Kyoto… sex……… the truth that, for all he complained about them, he liked the Kenshingumi… sex with…… the ambiguous fact that that loud little girl and her companions lived in Kyoto… sex with Saitou… don’t forget, Katsu’s here in Tokyo too… sex with Saitou, intense, rough, extremely satisfying… not to mention other friends, less close but undeserving of casual abandonment still, who were also in the capital… not to mention Saitou…

“God fucking fuck it!” he cried out all of a sudden, utterly regardless of his location. The latter was a somewhat run-down street on the way to the docks, and his outburst startled a ragged and disreputable-looking stranger to jump and hastily make his way out of sight into an alley. Sano took off at an irate, pounding run toward the sea.

At the end of a short pier, ignoring the curious or wary looks those working on the dock occasionally gave him, Sano sat with his knees drawn up to his chin and stared out over the water. He tried with all his being to think about anything else — the ships slowly making their way in or out of the bay; the noisy gulls squabbling over the leavings of someone’s lunch or just wheeling and scanning with long, bored cries; the occasional sign of aquatic life beneath the shadowed water. And, whether the consistent lapping of this last against the supports or the cries of the sea-birds had a soothing effect, or because of the amount of effort he was putting into this, it worked for a while, and his mood calmed.

Even this slight improvement seemed, by contrast, like walking from a hellish landscape of war and terror into a blissful, pristine paradise, and he smiled as he finally stood from his place of reverie and retraced at a less hurried pace the steps he’d taken so precipitously to get there. Maybe now he could go dig up an early dinner somewhere.

Or maybe there was fucking Saitou fucking talking to some random fucking person just near where the fucking pier joined the rest of the fucking dock with his fucking back to Sano as if he fucking didn’t know Sano was fucking there and hadn’t fucking shown up just in fucking time to intercept him right the fuck after Sano had finally fucking managed to improve his fucking mood.

Stone-still, dumbstruck, a mixture of rage and despair pouring over him, pounding through his veins, and Kyoto seeming suddenly, in the back of his mind, a golden dreamland of freedom, Sano just stared. He’d continually told himself he didn’t want to be driven by someone else — especially someone like Saitou — to a major change in his life… but wasn’t Saitou already inducing major change in his life just by showing up every-fucking-where and toying with Sano like this, now on a near-daily basis?

The wolf turned a casual glance upon Sano’s motionless form, and the bright gold had its usual effect: Sano’s skin prickled and heated, and a tight center of desire began forming somewhere just below his gut. From there, however, the meeting went nothing like usual.

Sano saw it where Saitou could not, and didn’t have time to be irritated that his initial reaction was momentary concern for the other man’s safety. One of four dockhands carrying among them a huge, heavy crate, just as the group passed behind Saitou, caught his foot on something and stumbled. The object crashed to the ground and the man fell heavily into the officer, knocking him forward full against Sano.

And that was when everything, everything changed.

Though Saitou had touched him occasionally since that night, it had been nothing more than casual, circumstantial (though certainly calculated) brushes against arms or shoulders, or more pointed but still relatively innocuous incidents such as the seizure of Sano’s hand last night to prevent violence. There had been no full-body contact since the beginning of this debacle.

But now, as Saitou was pushed entirely against him (finally), Sano could feel the immediate stiffening, the hot tension, of the officer’s lean, muscular, perfect frame; he could see the fleeting unguarded look in the startled face; and the gloved hands that took hold of him inadvertently for their mutual balance seemed almost to tremble as they clutched at him, and to withdraw with pained reluctance as Saitou stepped hastily back the instant it was possible to do so.

Sano could feel his eyes widening, and his mouth opened slightly… but if he’d been speechless before, he certainly had nothing to say now. Actually he was slightly dizzy — whether because of the volume of blood now gushing violently downward to other parts of his body than his brain, or from overwhelming shock, he wasn’t sure.

Saitou, however, neither taunted nor berated him as expected. He’d looked away, under the pretense of locating a cigarette to replace the one that had been knocked from his mouth in the little accident, and this was the last clue the younger man needed, if indeed he needed another at all. Sano wasn’t even sure by what force of will he managed to turn and run away yet again. Really, he wasn’t sure he was even running; it felt more like stumbling.

Saitou wanted…

Saitou… wanted… him…

At first this revelation was so monumentally shocking as to render him nearly senseless; he reeled as if drunk all his breathless way home, and could barely make out his path or his destination. Why, exactly, it should be such a surprise took him some time to determine, since rational thought had fled and wild fantasy prompted by the realization ruled his chaotic mind. Eventually, though, he fixed on the idea that, not being much in the habit of self-restraint himself, he would never have interpreted Saitou’s behavior as such, nor believed that beneath it the man’s emotions were actually much the same as his own. That they were soon caused Sano’s shock to give way to the more customary wrath.

If Saitou did share Sano’s inconvenient desire — and Sano was fairly certain he hadn’t misinterpreted the signs — why in the name of fucking god was he playing this maddening game? Sano knew that was just it: it was a game. He and his feelings were a game to Saitou, who had even admitted, that first night, that he was ‘entertaining himself.’ Entertaining himself by tormenting them both and seeing who would crack first. Who would be the one to beg for what they both wanted, whose pride would take the beating when they eventually got it. Only Saitou would consider that entertaining. Only Saitou would come up with a game this unfairly biased, where he had all the self-control required to win and his opponent barely any.

Sano would have loved to declare, at that point, “Well, this is one game he damn well isn’t winning!!!” But he wasn’t at all certain that was indeed the case. Because Saitou was right: he was like a dog — a bitch in heat. At this thought he pounded a fist into the wall, which shuddered and creaked. Even Saitou’s fucking similes were invading him now. But it was true… he wouldn’t be surprised, at any moment, thinking of that bastard, to hear a growling whine grow out of nowhere in his throat, to find himself scratching at the door. And if he did go running off to him, if he did give in… would Saitou… surely Saitou would…

Oh, god, the thought was just too much. Of Saitou attacking him again, this time with no question of how it would end… of Saitou’s hands, Saitou’s mouth, Saitou’s cock acting on the desire that earlier today had been so harshly restrained… of an end to the tension and rage because surely Saitou couldn’t really say no if Sano pushed him…

If it was going to happen eventually anyway no matter what he did… and if that sadist would be amusing himself at Sano’s expense every moment between now and then… wasn’t the victory of depriving Saitou of that entertainment, even though it meant giving in, greater than the somewhat dubious triumph of holding out against the inevitable for as long as he could and driving himself crazy in the process?

It wasn’t really a difficult decision. He’d known he was cracking, and the afternoon’s encounter hadn’t exactly had less of an effect on him than it had on Saitou. He was close enough to the abyss that a few steps were all it took to hurl himself headlong into the darkness, headlong out of his apartment into the night that had fallen while he’d been marveling and stunned and deliberating. His movement was not entirely steady, but it was swift and vehement — now that he’d made his choice, he needed to act upon it as quickly as possible before the stubborn dignity that thought it still existed and was still, somewhere in his head, screaming out against this course of action got the better of him and changed his mind.

Saitou actually looked a little surprised when Sano, astonished himself at the luck that found the man at home but not about to waste time thinking about it, burst into his house and interrupted his quiet dinner with the scowling demand, “Fuck me now.”

“And if I don’t feel like it?” the officer wondered dispassionately.

“I don’t believe you,” growled Sano. “I don’t give a shit what you feel like doing anyway; we’re gonna have sex now, and there’s not one damn fucking thing you can say that’s gonna make it not happen.”

Glancing at the clock, “My wife should be on her way over by now,” Saitou replied in the same placid tone.

His wife…

Sano felt suddenly cold, lost, directionless. He hadn’t really wanted to do this, not least because of the blow to his pride… to have that blow struck without even the consolation of the resolution he’d been anticipating… he didn’t know what to do. He was at his wits’ end.

“You could come back later,” suggested Saitou, “if you’re that desperate.”

If you’re that desperate.

That. Was. The. Final. Straw.

Sano had been on edge for a month now, the tension building and building without any foreseeable release, and this was simply too much. Like a really good orgasm, slow and extended yet sharp and overwhelming, the fury returned all at once in an inexorable wave. It took control of him, blinding him and directing him, and before he even realized what he was doing, he’d flung himself at Saitou with every ounce of strength in his body.

The sensations of knuckles meeting cheekbone and knee meeting stomach, especially followed as they were by the second full-body contact of the day, might have been the most erotic experience of Sano’s life. It even seemed to surprise Saitou, who grunted and fell beneath the assault; he quickly recovered, however, and immediately gained the upper hand, returning the punch to the face so hard it made Sano see stars. They wrestled across the floor until Sano found himself, not for the first time, helplessly pinned beneath Saitou’s body, flat on his back, panting, aroused to the point of pain.

A throbbing haze surrounded everything and distorted his vision, and gave Saitou an even more sinister look than usual… but could not disguise the expression on the cop’s face, close to Sano’s as that was. In his earlier assessment Sano had been absolutely right: Saitou wanted him, still, always, with a fury to match his. He might pretend to be cool and aloof, but he couldn’t hold out under this kind of pressure any more than Sano could.

The movement by which their lips met was abrupt and intense, yet startlingly natural and almost smooth. Saitou’s hands had locked so fiercely onto Sano’s upper arms that the latter were in danger of losing circulation, his knees tight around Sano’s hips; and they were both very clearly as hot and ready as Sano had been during their every previous encounter — though the younger man was beginning to rethink his assumption that it had been he alone feeling it. To the extent he was able to think about anything at all, that is.

They broke apart, and this movement seemed as angry as everything else — angry at each other for what they were doing, angry at the need to breathe, or just angrily aroused, it was impossible to tell. As soon as he had sufficient air in his lungs, “Fuck me now,” Sano growled again.

“Fine,” Saitou replied, in essentially the same tone, and attacked their clothing in quick and efficient succession. Insistent — no, frenetic hands dove beneath Sano’s wraps and began removing them so deftly that only the consoling thought, At least he’s not wasting time, kept him from the much more disturbing and infuriating thought that Saitou must have studied what he wore beneath his clothing in detail in order to get him out of it so easily.

Saitou’s fingers were inside him before Sano had even realized he was accessible in that area. “Fuck!” the younger man gasped, attempting to beat back his wrath by forcing himself to try to think of this as just sex instead of sex with Saitou… pretend it was someone else… pretend he was merely touching himself… That didn’t work, of course, since his wrath was in proportion to his lust and both were aimed specifically at the man on top of him. So the reaction he actually went with was to squirm angrily downward, trying to force those fingers deeper.

The officer had shifted his body somewhat to the side the better to go about this preparatory action, had shifted his mouth down to Sano’s neck and shoulder the better to bite and suck with wounding force. In response to this Sano was writhing and snarling — he really couldn’t call the sound ‘moaning,’ though it was just as much a positive reaction to the sensations as that more friendly type of noise would have been — and attempting rather unsuccessfully to wrap one leg around Saitou’s waist.

As if it wanted to dig into him just as energetically as the first, Saitou’s other hand was traversing Sano’s chest and side from arm to hip, abrading upward with the heel and raking back down with the nails in hard, insistent caresses that might leave bruises and were certainly drawing blood. Sano therefore felt no guilt (and wouldn’t have even if he’d been thinking clearly) digging his own fingertips into the tense, muscular back that shifted above him as Saitou ground his erection against the younger man’s leg with force that bordered on complete abandon.

Saitou had no proper lubricant, and merely worked at stretching Sano open as methodically as the atmosphere of desperate need could allow. Sano wasn’t exactly what he would call ‘relaxed,’ but the determination to get this over with that infused him (not to mention the perpetual explosion of uncontrollable hormones under which he was currently operating) assisted in keeping him from tightening up too exceptionally. It still hurt, but he didn’t much care. And when Saitou abandoned his erotic mutilation of Sano’s chest in order to draw his tongue thoroughly and wetly over his other hand and then transfer as much as he could onto his straining cock, Sano knew it was going to hurt even more, and still didn’t much care.

Similar to Sano’s previous exclamations, Saitou’s groan upon entering him was more of a growl. For his part, Sano finally managed a sound more typically suited to the current activities… mostly because, though it did hurt, the pain was so much in keeping with the anger, and the accompanying pleasure so great, that the combination of these multiform feelings largely took control of him. Able now to wrap both legs easily around Saitou’s torso, he rotated his hips insistently, encouraging Saitou farther into him. The older man shuddered above him, still growling slightly, and kissed him again so hard they both tasted blood.

The self-control Sano had, earlier that very day, been cursing in Saitou he now blessed, for the wolf’s motions were slow at first, giving Sano time to adjust. As the young man’s body fully integrated the pain with the pleasure and welcomed the mixture with no uncertainty, his erection, which had softened on penetration, hardened completely again. Whether Saitou felt this, trapped as it was between their rocking bodies, sensed Sano’s readiness by other cues, or was simply no longer able to hold back, he proceeded to a quick, hard pattern of deep thrusts, locking as he did so his teeth into the flesh of Sano’s shoulder as if to muffle his sounds of pleasure or his loud, trembling breaths.

Sano could do nothing but clutch at him, his own panting and groaning much the same, occasionally twisting his hips for a new, mind-shattering angle. How long it lasted he had no clear concept; he only knew the orgasm it led to was hard, protracted, and monumental — possibly the most perfect thing he’d ever felt. His head, which had lifted off the floor slightly at some point along with his shoulders, fell back, eyes closed, to ride the wave of white heat before he returned slowly and reluctantly to reality. There he lay, gasping, partially limp, against the warm floor while Saitou finished.

With a final thrust almost brutally vigorous, a groan, and a tightening of his teeth into Sano’s skin, Saitou came as well, and finally lay still, except for a slight, subsiding trembling as his tight muscles relaxed. His damp, ragged breaths, stinging a bit against Sano’s shoulder in the wound he’d occasioned there, mixed with Sano’s as the only sound in the room.

This near-silence, after the glorious chaos of moments before, seemed extremely loud. Though the burning glow throughout Sano’s entire body, the echoing shockwaves of pleasure and pain, seemed to discourage any sort of verbal communication at this point, he was starting to feel he really needed to say something — if only he could think what. Then the peculiar haze of indefinite emotions and half emotions, frames of mind shattered and rebuilding in different forms, was pierced abruptly by the sound of insistent knocking.

“Shit,” muttered Saitou close to Sano’s ear.

At this, now he wasn’t as angry as he had been for the last several weeks, Sano could feel nothing but surprise and perhaps some amusement. He’d never heard Saitou swear quite so blatantly before. Incredulous, he wondered, “Is that actually your wife? You actually weren’t lying about that?”

“It is and I wasn’t,” Saitou replied sourly. He pulled out of Sano with a slight noise of discomfort, and, standing slowly, looked around with a very abstracted expression. When his eyes passed Sano, however, the latter got the impression the officer was combating a strong temptation to ignore the obstinate knocking and… do something else.

“I’ll get out of your way, then.” Sano, a little surprised at the comradely way he’d made this statement, also stood — more slowly than Saitou had, and with a great deal more discomfort — and attempted to locate his clothing. His wraps were torn to unusable pieces, which earned Saitou a few muttered curses that yet lacked the vehemence of anything Sano had uttered against him for a month or perhaps forever; the scraps were, however, at least suitable to wipe away the evidence — including some blood — of their activities. Soon the young man was reasonably clothed and inquiring of the similarly reasonable other the way to the back door.

Halfway out this aperture, Sano couldn’t help hesitating, glancing again at Saitou. It felt strange, almost bewilderingly so, to look at that sharp, handsome face without the rush of overwhelming wrath to which he’d become so accustomed. He didn’t have anything to say, but still felt something needed to be said. Finally he just decided on, “Well, good night.”

This might, Sano thought, have been exactly what Saitou had intended to say, and Sano’s having gotten to it first rendered it a less desirable farewell. But before Saitou turned to answer a call of, “Hajime? Are you home?” from the other end of the little house, he did fix unreadable but very pointed eyes on Sano as if to make some other, silent comment… Sano had no idea what. So the young man moved away, closing the door as quietly as he could, into the small yard behind the house whence he had to climb a low wall to reach the street.

He had no idea where things would go from here. Why that tolerant atmosphere? Why that last, serious look? Why this drastic decrease in anger? It was paradoxically infuriating that, now he’d actually done the deed, the idea of being fucked by Saitou wasn’t nearly so infuriating. Though fairly certain he still didn’t want to want Saitou, he was far less certain of the ‘game over’ he’d anticipated on the way here. Goddamn confusing bastard. The one sure aspect of the situation was that it had been every bit as enjoyable — for both of them — as he’d predicted, that he was finally satisfied.

For the moment.

Well, he sure as hell wasn’t going to think about that little addendum, nor speculate on what Saitou’s next move would be… or what he wanted it to be. But as he slipped away into the night and concentrated mostly on the residual pain and dissipating afterglow rather than the future, he couldn’t help reflecting with a grin — somewhat bitter though it was — that a dog and a wolf weren’t so dissimilar after all.



This is for 30_kisses theme #24 “Good night.”

Admittedly few of the Saitou/Sano scenarios I set up are 100% healthy relationship, but this… this is completely fucked up. Why did I write it? Why did I find it funny back when I wrote it? I don’t know. I guess it’s not too bad, though, as an examination of a really bastardly version of Saitou.

I’ve rated this story . What do you think of it?

This story is included in the Saitou/Sano Collection 1 ebook. An outdated and somewhat dreadful audio recording is included in the Saitou/Sano Audio Collection.

22 Replies to “Canine Impulses (2/2)”

  1. Yay! Thank you so much for continuing this story. Words cannot describe its awesomeness. I enjoyed the whole thing very much indeed. Saitou making a game out of their mutual desire in order to see who cracks first is very amusing, almost as much as Sano going to his house and demanding, “Fuck me now!”. XD

    So much fun. ^_^

    Avek

  2. Wah, I was waiting for this! Wonderful, as always. ♥ I love the canine theme of the whole thing.

    I was LOLing hard at most parts but this -> a nearly unconquerable desire for public sodomy – had me nearly spitting my coffeeeeeeee XD

    1. The public sodomy line was quite possibly my favorite line in the entire story, so I’m glad you picked up on it XD XD XD And I’m glad you liked the story; thanks for your comment!! :D

  3. Okay, so in the midst of cracking up and drooling and spitting food all over the place, I read this line and found myself nodding emphatically to it:

    It was as if they had a responsibility to entertain him and weren’t delivering. Everything they said struck him as profoundly boring, to a degree far closer to utterly intolerable than usual, and he found himself continually holding his breath for something more exciting

    I love the theme of boredom and disatisfaction in this piece. Obviously, there’s the sexual frustration part, which you are so good at writing, but in this italicized snippet, it’s more an issue of what the Kenshingumi are saying or rather, not saying. Sano’s observation of Kenshin desiring a placid life highlights his own desire for constant excitement, and everything Kenshin, Kaoru, and Yahiko proceed to say (and do) only further the mundanity of their existence in Sano’s eyes.

    That was rather badly put. My point is, even though on the surface, this seems to be a partial crackfic or at least more nestled in the humor genre than any other, you explore a really prominent theme for this relationship (in my opinion anyway): the issue of control versus impulse. Both these characters are wild, and when thrown together, the whole world goes up in flames, but what about when they’re not thrown together? What would happen to all that tethered rage and desire and pure, unadultered emotion? Where would it go?

    Clearly, the only solution is for them to bonk like rabbits. Constantly. XD

    not a nearly unconquerable desire for public sodomy. – Er. I know I’m echoing queen_yokozuna here, but seriously. I had to drop my arms into my head here. Wait. I mean, I had to drop my head into my arms here >.< and give in to a good hearty laugh. For a full minute.

    AND, ahahaha, great ending line! Saitou may possess more than his share of self-control, but he's as much a canine as he believes Sano to be. Once again. Ending line, title, theme, story – all very seamless. In fact, your writing here is pretty seamless.

    I think this is my favorite of everything I've read of yours. :D And if I may add this account to my flist?

    1. Sano’s relationship wis the Kenshingumi fascinates me. On the one hand, Kenshin made a huge impact on his life and he’s shared strong emotional experiences wis the group in general… not to mention the fact that Sano is at heart a nice guy… but on the other hand, there are some hefty differences in character between him and them (a lot of them based on life experiences) that make them, in some lights, entirely incompatible. Of course there are degrees to which you can take this, and it’s also possible to interpret it away entirely… in this story, obviously, I chose to lean toward the end of the spectrum that has them as less close friends after all the momentous events that brought them together are over.

      And as for Saitou and Sano… holy crap, there are so many, many, many angles you can approach their relationship from. I liked the idea of trying to show how the similarities in their natures lead to completely different actions and attitudes regarding the same feelings and situations… and how the inevitable result is, as you said, the need to bonk like rabbits. Constantly :D That’s generally the result of their interaction when I play wis aspects of their characters. I don’t know how Watsuki came up with such incredibly, interestingly, complexly slashable characters…

      Feel free to watch this lj… I announce everything new here, of course, but it’s mostly HR updates since that’s weekly.

      1. he’s shared strong emotional experiences wis the group

        The thing is, that alone is usually enough to draw people together! If you’ve shared a nutty experience with someone, however unpleasant the other’s personality may seem, the two of you are more likely to be, well, close. Everything that’s happened with Kenshin and his pals has taught them to trust and enjoy each other, which is one step up than the relationship between Sano and Saitou, but no, I agree that it doesn’t mean Sano would love to spend the rest of life hanging around the dojo. In fact, I tend to swing towards your portrayal of Sano in this story, constantly seeking for something that Kenshin with his own desire for peace isn’t able to give him.

        Sano’s still very young (younger than myself, frighteningly enough), and he’s not really had a chance to see the world, take on the world, from a more mature perspective. I can’t remember if he ever leaves Japan in the canon, but I think Kenshin (and Saitou, if given the chance) would advise him to “go out there,” leave the dojo at the least, and hone his abilities and interests. He’s a guy at loose ends, malleable, whose just learned to put to rest a huge grudge and move on.

        Which, come to think of it, is at odds with Saitou’s own life, isn’t it? I’ve always been drawn to the mentor-student aspect of their relationship (which would explain why SaiSa reminds me of Snape/Harry in the Harry Potter fandom). I watched the anime first, and there was simply too much potential for them to be more deeply involved. Oh my God, I think they were the first homosexual pairing I’d ever liked in fandom. That’s crazy to think about now, with the way I’ve gone down the slope, lol.

        Well, I done pop onto LJ all that often anymore either, but I’d love to check back here for updates and whatnot.

        1. Yeah, the shared emotional experiences draw them together, but I still don’t think they’re likely to be all that close. I see them as more of a family unit in the sense that you don’t choose your family, and that even after you part wis them, you’re still family; you’re bound by certain ties that never break… but you’re not necessarily excessively close all the time, nor do you always want to spend huge amounts of your life wis them as an adult. Which is why I think Sano actually has the potential to be closer to Saitou than to the Kenshingumi, because there isn’t the “family” feeling between them. I also love the teacher/student potential between them…

          I don’t know that Sano necessarily needs to get away in a physical sense in order to mature or to overcome his issues, but you’re right about one thing — hanging around the dojo under the care of Kenshin and Kaoru (mental/physical) is probably not the best way for him to do it XD

          I love what Saitou and Sano can give each other / do for each other. Each one has parts of his life that can be improved by the other. I think that’s the core of why they go so well together, actually. They were totally my first gay pairing too, and remain my favorite even to this day :D

          1. You’re absolutely right. It’s the sense of family.

            I completely forgot to tell you that I adore “Gradual Understanding.” I should probably have commented at the website, but I read it in one go and told myself I’d go back later (and that sometimes doesn’t happen). It was…pure fun to read. I wasn’t quite sure what you were doing with the story at first, but I’m so glad I kept reading because Sano’s emotional torment is always a great thing to have, not to mention a case where the reader actually gets to know more than the character. XD I was chuckling madly with all the “I know something you don’t”s. The build-up to the ending was fantastic, and the last scene itself fulfilled all my fluff needs. I loved the last two scenes best because I love the quiet confessions that come after explosive, life-altering action and because you did it so perfectly. It was a unique idea for a story, and I really enjoyed it.

            1. Oh, thank you ^_____^ That is one of my absolute favorites out of all my stories, so I’m glad you like it. It was rather a strange way to go about writing a past-life-dreams story, but I thought it worked quite well. And, yeah, Sano-torture just never gets old XD XD

    1. :D I’m glad you like it! Yeth, it does rather demand a sequel, doesn’t it? The development of their relationship from here is a very interesting thought…. We’ll see. Thanks for the comment!

  4. The public sodomy line made me spit tea on my desk and slightly on my keyboard T____T LMAO

    Also: Or maybe there was fucking Saitou fucking talking to some random fucking person just near where the fucking pier joined the rest of the fucking dock with his fucking back to Sano as if he fucking didn’t know Sano was fucking there and hadn’t fucking shown up just in fucking time to intercept him right the fuck after Sano had finally fucking managed to improve his fucking mood.

    …that is sooooooooooooooooooo me. I was laughing so hard!

    Thank you for this incredibly awesome story ♥

    1. :D You’re welcome! Thank you for the comment! Oh, man, that line wis the twelve fucking’s in it (and one fuck) also made me laugh so hard when I wrote it. I think just that line may have made this the story of mine wis the largest “fuck”/page ratio.

    1. Thanks!! I’m glad you liked it, and I’m glad you approve of my characterizations :D I was also glad when Sano finally gave in XD And as for a sequel… well, I’m still in “we’ll see” mindset about that, heh.

  5. Sano really has a one track mind…

    It would be interesting to know how their relationship would continue from here… but I guess that’s up to you…

    I really enjoyed this. Thanks!

  6. In honesty, I don’t find the story humorous at all, although I agree with above commenters that several lines in it are hysterical.

    Which is not to say that it’s not good. I’ve been in Sano’s position–messed with by a sociopath–and you write it with uncanny accuracy. The thing is, though, that it is every bit as genuinely distressing and damaging to one’s self-worth as you portray it being, and the sex, when it does happen, does nothing to modify the game-instigator’s contempt for the played-upon–just the opposite, in fact.

    And when a sociopathic person is interested in taking you apart and seeing how you work, it’s like being in hell. I’m not kidding. He really will stalk you, and he really does have a preternatural ability to find all your buttons and press them hard and to strike that perfect mix of aloofness, mystery, and glimmers of interest to make you think that you don’t know what’s going on.

    And soon after that he does not have to expend much effort at all to maintain his ownership of your mind. Even when you want to leave there is not enough left of you that is not him in order to do so, and even if you tried anyway he would keep following you, keep threatening you, and keep making it seem effortless.

    You write Sano well, too: he’s young, inexperienced, quick, and self-doubting at the same time he’s cocky. He won’t be able to escape from Saitou’s hold on him, though, not if Saitou begins their very first flirtation with threatening to rape him.

    I like, too, the canine motif: it shows very clearly what’s going on and the differences between the two characters. Saitou thinks of Sano as a dog, and soon Sano begins to see himself that way; Saitou, by contrast, is a dangerous and alien predator, like in genus to his fellow characters but different in species. You’ve nailed perfectly two particular types of individuals and one very particular type of relationship.

    Even if this fic is not a prelude to Kenshin someday discovering Sano’s mangled body in the abandoned lot next to the post office (and I have my suspicions) and instead will continue only to great, broken unhappiness and self-hatred for Sano instead of the police never being able to find his left ear or two of his toes, it’s a chilling, very horrible, and very incisive take on the weakest and scariest parts of Saitou’s and Sano’s respective personalities. Well played.

    1. I probably shouldn’t find Sano’s legitimate anger to a truly horrible situation so funny… nor play that situation for humor. Fanfiction, to quote Amelia, “has a corrosive effect on the organs of moral responsibility.” OK, maybe not all the time, but sometimes it definitely does prompt at least me to write things with attitudes that are not entirely appropriate. At least I wrote it accurately, though :D

  7. All the buildup certainly matched the climax of this story (no pun intended). It was great to see Sano coming to understand he wasn’t the only one being driven to madness. And when they did finally end up fucking, it felt really in character to the rest of the story. Wonder what happens from here! Thanks! :D

    1. I too have often wondered what happens from here, but I’ve never had any concrete ideas for a sequel. The problem is that they’re in a reeeaallllly unhealthy place right now, and how to get them onto a better track is a bit of a puzzle XD

      Anyway, I’m glad you found the climax so fitting to the buildup; I recall working pretty hard on that, so I’m pleased that it worked. Thanks very much for reading and commenting!!

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