What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

Oyasumi

I heard your pleas, dearest readers, so there is the end of the scene :)

"Well, I'll bet you'll be the only one that knows what Kitsu looks like without her clothes."

His eyes darkened, need swirling in their endless depth.

"Ever since I saw you dance...", he whispered, hand lifting to land upon my collarbone.

This simple gesture caused me to shiver in anticipation. Could I, really, get a man like him to share my bed? I inched forward until our noses nearly touched.

"Makes you wonder what a body so flexible can do, right?", I taunted.

Hijikata blinked, then chuckled. He was so close that his breath fanned upon my face. "Damn, you sure can be blunt, Kitsu."

I shyly brushed hair out of his face, lingering upon the chiselled jaw I wanted to taste so badly.

"And you are blushing, Toshi. Adorable, again."

The man gave me a cheeky smile before he suddenly stood. I gasped, finding the emptiness so huge; as if walking the edge on a cliff. Wait ... was he about to send me away? I wouldn't put it past the man to do such a thing... My breath hitched as my eyes followed his silhouette; he strode to the back of the room and extracted a futon roll faster that I could blink. The cover landed in my arms with more force than I expected and I toppled backwards.

Drunk and playful Toshi was certainly a change, but I wasn't going to complain. Given he was setting the bedding ... perhaps I could stay a while longer? As he unrolled the heavy mattress, I stacked alcohol and tea beside his desk, mindful to keep it away from the paper work. When I turned around, I found Hijikata sitting sheepishly on the futon, weight balanced upon his hand.

"I'm wasted, Kitsu", he chuckled. "You got me good with that liquor."

The laughter in his voice warmed my heart, but I knew that, should any danger arise, he'd be more than operational. And I didn't care; for the moment, the sight of his relaxed shoulders, of the easy smile lifting the corner of his lips stirred something deep in my soul.

I'd scold mysef later for getting attached ... again. For the moment, though, I made a beeline for the man, and bracketed his hips with both thighs. The surroundings faded as he pulled me against him, his arms circling me tight. I claimed his lips with eagerness; he welcomed me with just as much enthusiasm.

There was no greater miracle than a warrior welcoming another's presence, accepting to be vulnerable under another's touch. I sighed contentedly. Nothing else mattered than our bodies greeting each other, tongues dancing, hands exploring. Intoxicated, I strayed from his mouth to nibble the sinful line of his jaw, then descended to taste his pulse point.

Toshizō slightly tensed before he melted altogether, his upper body sagging under my ministrations. The damn cloth covered the rest of him, and I tugged impatiently on the cotton that prevented me from diving deeper under his collar. Even now, both his kimono and juban remained unshakable in their protection of his chest. I whined, lapping at the delicious flesh of his neck. A chuckle responded, the deep rumble echoing in my own chest as he shifted the fabric aside, tugging in the right place to unravel more of his skin.

A slight wiggle of my hips brough me closer still, so close that I couldn't ignore the effect my explorations had on his body. Toshizō groaned, his hand suddenly grabbing my nape to drag me into a searing kiss that left be breathless.

"Kitsuneko", he murmured against my lips, interrupting the fenzy. My heart was beating ten thousand miles a minute, and I gently laid my forehead against his. For a moment, we both breathed in unison, bodies firmly aware of each other, only separated by layers of unwelcome rough cloth. "Grab the cover", he huskily commanded.