Taste

Moon Gazing

He had to admit, the last time he'd looked at the stars was long, long ago. They were there every night, after all. Nothing transpired in the heavens that commanded him; looking up was for those heavens-bound, and Mitsuhide was very certain that was not his fate. Thinking about the best places to see the sky? He had not done that, either, unless it was to stare across the infinite horizon and measure the strength of numbers he would greet.

So at first, he had no idea why their lovely chatelain was standing in the middle of their courtyard, neck craned back, eyes upward, and completely unsuspecting. What a delightful treat. It had been a long day, and spending so much time plotting with Mitsunari and Nobunaga in the tenshu had him itching for a little fun.

Naturally, his idea of 'fun' was to slither up behind the chatelain and breathe in her ear. "What has you so possessed?"

She screamed and launched backward, staggering on a rock. He caught her wrist just before she pitched over, relishing the fear in her eyes transforming to fury.

"You absolute ass!"

'Ass'? He paused, uncertain what that was. Maybe it was a western thing. Their lovely princess did seem far more mired in the western culture than they did, after all. He took it as an insult from the context. "See what happens when you are caught unprepared? Whatever are you doing?"

She smacked his chest, the petulant frown only delighting him more. "I was looking at the stars. Do you have to be terrible?"

"The stars?" Mitsuhide blinked and turned his face upward as well. It was a very clear night. "What for?"

"They're beautiful." The chatelain joined his gaze. "Where I came from, it was difficult to see them. Here, they're so clear."

"Did you live in a forest?" Come to think of it, he barely knew a thing about their princess. Her past was an empty hole, and Nobunaga seemed uninterested in filling it. His curiosity was not so easily sated. Mitsuhide appraised her as if the lines of her face would tell him something–anything–but nothing sprang to life. No. It was just her in the starlight, with bright grey eyes and her long, long hair, arms crossed in the chill breeze and her sharp nose turned up ever so slightly. In the grey night, she looked as if she had stepped from the moon herself.

"No," she answered, soft and measured, weighing her words. "Not exactly."

"Secrets are dangerous, my dear," he purred. "Someone might think you're hiding something."

She grinned and turned her head, gazing at him. "Aren't you a fine one to talk?"

His heart squeezed tight. How very unlike him. He wanted to tear his gaze away and go back to the depths of hell where he belonged, return to the dungeons and part with another piece of his soul, but...

Well, he was more interested in star gazing if she were the view. Quietly, he pulled off his haori and draped it around her shoulders, pulling it tight against the wind. She stared wide-eyed at him.

"You'd have a better view on the bridge," Mitsuhide commented lightly. "And you'd be safe, attended by me."

The princess clutched at the edge of his haori and smiled. His whole body tingled. Damn that smile. Damn that face. Damn his own feelings. They writhed, snake-like, out of his hands.

"I'd like that."

"Very well. Then let us go."

They walked together from the castle, down the pathway to Azuchi township. He was right. On the bridge they had a clear, beautiful view of the scenery–the town, laid out before them, faint lights snuffing one by one, the mountains, the fields, and the vast expanse of stars overhead. The chatelaine knelt in the middle of the bridge, holding the haori tight around her, and leaned back against the balustrade. Something primal stirred in him, watching her. The haori rippled in the breeze like a flag, the symbol of his lineage emblazoned bright on her shoulders. It felt like laying claim to her, and the thought made him go hot and cold all over.

"Join me?" She patted the bridge beside her. He followed suit, teasing his feelings free and examining them carefully. "Thank you."

"Whatever for?"

"Taking me out here. The haori." She moved it meaningfully. "It's warm and smells nice."

"Does it?"

"Mmhm."

A thought stirred deep in him. Maybe, just maybe, when she handed the haori back, she would smell like him. And that scent would cling deep to her skin, hold against her bare neck and stay, even as the layers of her kimono fell away–

Mitsuhide slid around to face her. The chatelain watched him curiously. Extending a hand, he parted the edge of the haori and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. Her face flared pink like cherry blossom petals in the moonlight. "Mitsuhide?"

"You are cold," he sighed, running a thin finger along her cheek. "Very cold. I'm only trying to warm you."

"Most people would do that outside the haori," she answered, but didn't pull away.

"Most people might. I had a different thought."

"What's that?"

He slid his thumb along her lips, parting them. The chatelain caught the pad of his finger between her teeth, ran her tongue over it, drew him in and let go again. A raging fire exploded to life in the seat of his stomach as he watched her eyes go hazy and bright, a want he only too-well understood shimmering there.

"Oh," he murmured, pulling closer. "I had some ideas."

She didn't smell like him. The small of her neck smelled like something completely different–the dryness of fabric and thread, tangled with a sweet, flowery scent. The chatelaine sighed with pleasure as he pressed his lips there, and then higher, and then on her jaw. He teased the edge of her earlobe with his tongue and nibbled, his skin searing as she cried out.

"Careful, now," he hissed into the shell of her ear. "We don't want the others worrying."

She wrapped her arms tight around his back, her nails digging tight into his flesh as he lavished attention on the other side of her neck. Slowly, slowly, with terrible focus, he dragged his mouth along her skin until he was where he'd always wanted to be. She gasped against him as he sealed her in a furnace kiss–and another–and another–tasting the edge of her tongue, sucking on her swollen, glistening lower lip, only pulling away to admire how utterly desperate she was for more. And oh, he gave her more. They kissed on the bridge until she was gasping and whispering his name and barely coherent, writhing in his arms.

"Do you know a better place to see the sky?" He whispered to her.

"No?" Her eyes cracked open and he nearly gasped, the moonlight pooling there like they were heavenly bodies of their own. "Where?"

"My estate. I have an excellent view of the moon from there–I think."

"You think?"

He chuckled soft and low, teasing his fingertips along the edge of her kimono. She shivered under him, and it was not from cold this time. "I say 'I think' because I hardly imagine we'd be doing much sky watching."

She dipped her head, red and hot. He drank in the sight and greedily pulled her back in for another kiss, dragging his fingernails through her hair and only pulling away when she was gasping again.

"If you say no, I'll take you back to your room. No questions asked."

"No," she murmured, then hastily added. "I want to go with you."

Mitsuhide couldn't crush the grin on his lips. "Very well, my dear."