Standalone: All In One

Ebook cover for the arc

A few stories for Hijikata and Okita, exploring the teasing and angst and depth of their relationship.

Euphemistic Touch

Okita’s punishment for stealing Hijikata’s book of haiku is designed to be something he’ll remember. Porn, I-4

Pairing(s): Hijikata/Okita

Souji lay on his stomach, spread out against the futon, kimono pulled down off his shoulders and pushed up over his hips. He could feel another body’s heat where Hijikata-san leaned over him, and his breath caught in little gasps as strong fingers worked in and out of his ass.

He’d completely lost track of how long Hijikata-san had been doing this. Long enough to make Souji warm and open around his fingers. Long enough to find just the place to stroke to make Souji moan. Long enough to drive him to helpless heat because two fingers, slow and easy, wasn’t enough. And Hijikata-san wasn’t giving him any more.

Those fingers curled inside him and Souji made a sharp, wanting sound. “Hijikata-san…”

Hijikata-san’s voice was even deeper than usual against Souji’s ear, and Souji could hear the smile in it. “I did tell you that I’d punish you for stealing my haiku book.” He drew his fingers out slowly and plunged them in again.

“I beg your forgiveness,” Souji gasped with utter sincerity. “I was very wrong to offer such impertinence to my master.”

Hijikata-san snorted. “It’s been two years already, Souji. I’m not your master any longer.”

Souji looked over his shoulder, meeting Hijikata-san’s eyes for a moment, and felt another twist of heat at the dark intent look focused on him. “You are always my master.”

Hijikata-san smiled sardonically. “Except when you feel like mischief, apparently.” He drew his fingers all the way out and a whimper caught in Souji’s throat. Maybe, finally…

But it was still two fingers that drove into him again, cool and slick with another scoop of salve. Souji pressed his forehead against the futon and pushed up into the touch, taking Hijikata-san’s fingers deeper. He was achingly hard and even just rubbing against the futon might bring him off. Hijikata-san chuckled against the nape of his neck, though, and held him down effortlessly with a hand at the small of his back.

“Hijikata-san!” Souji couldn’t help struggling for a moment, even though he knew perfectly well he was no match for Hijikata-san in raw strength. And it wasn’t as though sword skill was going to help him here, he admitted ruefully; this would have been far easier if Hijikata-san had chosen to exact his punishment on the training floor. Finally, though, he made himself lie still again, panting, and moaned as long fingers drove into his ass deep and hard in reward.

It still wasn’t enough.

He was past expecting mercy, or an answer to his low gasps and pleading moans, when Hijikata-san finally moved, kneeling swiftly behind him and pulling Souji’s hips up into the cradle of his. Souji cried out with the welcome hardness of Hijikata-san’s cock pushing into him, stretching the hot muscles of his ass wide around his thickness. “Yes!”

Hijikata-san’s arms pulled Souji back tight against his broad chest as he leaned over Souji, curling them both up over his knees. “Be still,” he ordered, low and velvety, and heat scalded through Souji again.

“Yes, Hijikata-san,” he whispered.

Hijikata-san fucked him slowly, and Souji lay obediently quiet and savored the feeling of being stretched and filled with the hardness of Hijikata-san’s cock, over and over until he was shuddering. Until he didn’t know how much more he could take. “Please,” he gasped, at last, unable to be quiet any longer. “Hijikata-san, please…”

When one large hand closed between his legs, relief made him dizzy, and after all this it only took a few rough strokes of his cock before he was shaking in Hijikata-san’s arms as pleasure wrung him out ruthlessly, again and again and again until the edges of his vision wavered and turned dark.

He didn’t catch his breath until Hijikata-san was finishing, and they were still for a little while, curled up together. “So?” Hijikata-san finally asked, breath stirring the fall of Souji’s hair.

“I’ll definitely remember the lesson,” Souji murmured.

“Good.”

Souji gasped as Hijikata-san drew out slowly. He’d remember it for more than one reason, he thought wryly. He stretched out slowly and let Hijikata-san pull him close again, cheeks heating just a bit as a strong hand kneaded his sore ass.

“And the next time you forget,” Hijikata added trenchantly, “perhaps I really will spank you and see if that lasts longer.”

Souji laughed against his shoulder. “Mm. I like it when you make me behave, Hijikata-san.”

Hijikata-san just snorted at that, but Souji could see his smile in the dimness, and snuggled closer, content with the all-around success of his day’s activity.

End

A/N: The manga version of the haiku-book theft features Hijikata threatening punishment if Souji doesn’t return it at once. The punishment turns out, after a dramatic pause for Tetsu to fear it will be seppuku, to be one hundred spankings and no dinner. Souji doesn’t seem to take the threat very seriously.

Last Modified: Mar 28, 12
Posted: Mar 28, 12
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Taste of Steel

However guilty he thinks he should feel, Hijikata can’t be anything but pleased by what Okita has become. Whatever second thoughts Hijikata might be having, Okita can’t be other than what he is. Porn, Character Sketch, Angst, I-4

Axandra has translated this work into Russian.

Pairing(s): Hijikata/Okita

“Why won’t you allow Tetsu-kun to have a katana? Why won’t you let him decide for himself?”

“Are you brainless? He’s just a brat of fifteen.”

“Nine years. I was nine years old. So that’s how it is. You don’t want him to end up like me, do you.”


Souji didn’t leave when they reached Hijikata’s rooms, only opened the outer screen and stood there in the night breeze. Hijikata sat and emptied his pipe and repacked it, mouth tight; what, after all, could he say at this late date?

“Do you hate what I am so much?”

The question was soft, the tone wistful, but it still struck him like a cut from behind. “No!” he snapped, and then took a breath. “Don’t be a fool, Souji. I know whose the responsibility is,” he said more evenly. “It was my hand that brought this to you.”

Souji spun away from the open screens, as lightly as if he were fighting, and took two steps across the room to sink to his knees in front of Hijikata. In the dimness, two pale hands closed around one of his, clenched on the stem of his pipe.

“Yes. It was.” The whisper of Souji’s hair sliding over his shoulders as he bent his head was scarcely louder than his voice. “They’ve called you the demon more than once. Am I not the demon’s child?”

Hijikata closed his eyes for a breath and then let it out. “Yes,” he said, low, sliding his other hand over Souji’s shoulder and up under his hair. “You are.” The other things he had done for the sake and in the name of the shogunate, he had made his peace with; they might stain and damn him forever, but that was the choice he’d made when he placed himself in Matsudaira’s service. This, though. This was a choice he’d made for another, before Souji’s spirit was grown to understanding. The sword, his sword, had consumed Souji’s soul until he was an unthinking weapon in Hijikata’s hands. And content to be so. It didn’t help to have Tetsu always before Hijikata’s eyes, these days, reminding him of how a real child thought and felt. Or to see Souji reaching out for companionship, seeing no reason why Tetsunosuke should not become what he was.

Souji was looking up at him now, and even moonlight showed the falseness of his smile. “Do you wish for me to leave this way of life?”

The false smile flicked away in a gasp, and Hijikata realized his grip had tightened fiercely on Souji’s nape. His voice was lower than usual when he said again, “Don’t be a fool.”

This time, Souji’s smile was sweet and brilliant. “Yes, Hijikata-san.”

Hijikata snorted with rueful amusement, at both of them really. He set his pipe aside and pulled Souji closer, one hand finding his waist to tug loose his obi. He accepted the heat that ran through him at the way Souji sighed, the way slim, strong arms wound around his shoulders and Souji’s mouth opened under his. If Souji was too much like him he knew exactly why it was, and perhaps it had been fate after all. The troop might whisper of his unbendable will, but he didn’t think there had ever been a time when he could have refused this—Souji’s pliancy, lying against his chest, or the pureness of Souji’s response to Hijikata’s hand on the sleek skin of his hip and back.

“Hijikata-san,” Souji whispered, and there was a plea in it that he couldn’t fail to answer. He kissed Souji deeper, intent, until he was flushed, skin heated under Hijikata’s fingers.

“Demon child,” he murmured back, and closed his eyes as Souji pressed closer with a breathless sound. Souji was his. His sword; his mirror. Without conscience.

But hadn’t Hijikata found his conscience again, in another’s spirit and voice? He could only pray that the same would come to Souji in time.

Because he would never give this up.

He tumbled Souji down to the tatami where he lay laughing softly, kimono spread out around him in disarray. “Hijikata-san,” Souji said, voice dancing over the syllables of his name, light and confident again as he stretched out his arms. He made a satisfied sound as Hijikata came to them, covering Souji and pulling him tight against the length of Hijikata’s body.

Hijikata had never once been able to question that this was Souji’s desire as well as his own. It was the one hint of cleanliness in this polluted life they led, and he cherished it, cradled Souji’s eagerness against him and tasted it, kiss after slow, hard kiss, until Souji was rubbing against him, gasping with every wanton flex of his body, hands pushing Hijikata’s kimono open as they spread against his chest. “Hijikata-san…!”

Hijikata smiled and tipped Souji’s chin up with his thumb, kissing down his neck, open mouthed. Subtle tension threaded Souji’s body at that; even in bed, even with him, Souji was a warrior. And that made his yielding sweeter. Hijikata bit down on Souji’s throat, firm enough to mark, and heat tightened his stomach at the sharpness of Souji’s gasp, the way his body pulled taut and trembled, needing to respond, to defend, even as Souji held himself back from it, left himself open only for Hijikata.

He could never refuse this.

“You’re mine,” he whispered to Souji as he turned him over, and Souji pressed his forehead against his folded arms, panting as he lifted his ass.

“Yes, Hijikata-san.”

The salve Hijikata fished out of his wall cubby was cool as he spread it over his cock, and Souji twitched as Hijikata drew slick fingers between his cheeks. The little sound of want he made nearly snapped Hijikata’s control, and he wrapped his hands around Souji’s hips and murmured, “Now.”

Souji moaned openly as Hijikata pushed into him, hands flexing against the tatami, catching in the muddle of their clothing. He was trembling again, and Hijikata held him firmly, pressed deeper into the tight heat of him slowly, until Souji gasped and the tension flowed out of his body.

“Please.” Souji’s voice was low, husky, sensual as even a good fight didn’t make it, and a growl caught in Hijikata’s throat. He answered with his body instead, driving deep, hard thrusts into Souji’s ass again and again, faster and harder as Souji moaned under him. Hot pleasure gripped him tighter and tighter, and when Souji shifted, one hand reaching between his legs, the heat blinded him. He buried himself hard in Souji, gasping as pleasure shook him, holding Souji tight against him even as Souji gasped and bucked in turn.

The stillness of the evening slowly descended on them both again.

Finally Hijikata drew back, pressing a kiss to Souji’s neck. “Stay tonight,” he said quietly.

Souji turned on his side, pushing his hair back to smile up as Hijikata, languid and sated. “Always.”

Hijikata paused, looking down at his lover, his sword, and finally nodded. Souji’s smile turned contented, and when Hijikata had spread the futon, he snuggled close, as unabashed as ever.

Hijikata held him and watched faint night shadows move over the ceiling. He would not disavow anything he had done. He would not deny his love for what Souji was. However it troubled his conscience, his spirit rejoiced in Souji’s reflection. He loved the demon child with all the fierceness and pain of his heart.

There would not be another.

End

Last Modified: Apr 01, 15
Posted: Mar 28, 12
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order_of_chaos, Qem and 10 other readers sent Plaudits.