#anyway I love them I love torturing sanemi call me gotouge the way I love torturing the Shinazugawa brothers

[tanjir0se]

HAPPY SANEGIYUU SATURDAY HERES A SNEAK PEEK OF GHOST OF YOU PT. II

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Exhausted and a little winded from his morning wading through deep snow, the closer Sanemi drew to the Master’s Mansion the farther his mind wandered. He’d spent the better part of the morning with his littlest finger entwined with Giyuu’s while they walked, because it felt right and Giyuu had let him and it seemed like something you do after spending a night kissing someone until you nearly forgot your own name. A thrill of want went through him as he remembered Giyuu’s moaned reminder.

S’nemi…

He swallowed.

That morning he’d cataloged Giyuu’s mannerisms, tried to make sense of them, turned them upside down and sideways in his mind while he walked and tried to ignore the ever present throb of pain in his ribs. Even for as inscrutable as Giyuu was, figuring him out was a lot easier than the alternative. So Sanemi walked and kept his finger entwined with Giyuu’s and silently mulled the man over in his thoughts until the scent of wisteria caught him.

His hand fell away from Giyuu’s. Neither attempted to bring them back together.

Things were a lot easier in the quiet dark of a stranger’s spare room, where at least he could imagine the blush on his cheeks was hidden by the low light. Where the humiliating burn of need in his gut could be outweighed by the stabs of pain through the cracks in his ribs. Now the sun seemed to glare down at them, bringing a new shame with its gaze.

As they approached the gardens and the gates, Sanemi moved himself further from Giyuu. He knew he wanted to feel his hands again and run his thumbs across the tiny scars on Giyuu’s fingertips, to taste him, to win the battle they’d started when he had Giyuu pinned beneath him. He knew he shouldn’t. It was like they were trapped in that battle now, swords forever against the other’s throat.

He also knew he’d never been one for self-restraint in the past. It was only a matter of time before one of them made their move. He didn’t know which of them between the two he more fervently prayed would cut first.

He swallowed again. Giyuu, as always, was silent beside him.

He needed an answer for Shinobu, who would inevitably ask him about their mission and his bid to find out what Giyuu had meant by calling him Sabito. Oh no big deal, it’s just the name of his dead first love. He needed an answer for himself. What exactly was Giyuu to him now? Did this mean Giyuu was in love with him?

Is this what love is? A sword to your throat?

Time was running out to answer the questions the closer the Mansion loomed. When it came into view, however, it seemed that perhaps Sanemi’s luck was changing.

Kakushi were practically swarming at the gates, moving quickly between the entrance and the Butterfly Mansion. In the distance they could see Kanao and Aoi directing the traffic side by side, through a series of arm gestures and shrill shouting, respectively.

Giyuu hummed beside him and quirked his head to the side.

“The hell is this?” Sanemi asked no one. He deliberately put a bit of heat on his words as if irritated, all to disguise his meager hope that the commotion could serve as a distraction for his ongoing…crisis.

Once they were near enough Sanemi reached out and grabbed a passing Kakushi by the top of his arm. “Hey. What’s going on?”

The young man jolted to attention, nearly dropping the large stack of towels he was carrying, and visibly glanced toward the butterfly mansion, trying to decide whether it was a bigger gamble to anger Sanemi, or Aoi.

“Master Shinazugawa!” He greeted quickly. “I’m afraid I don’t know the details, but we’re bringing survivors back from the Swordsmith Village now! It was attacked last night!”

Giyuu watched as Sanemi paled and tightened his grip on the Kakushi. He didn’t speak for a moment.

“By who?” He croaked after a long time.

The Kakushi winced at Sanemi’s hand closing around his arm and tried to backpedal. “Two Upper Ranks! That’s all I know, sorry!”

Sanemi’s hand fell limply away from the young man’s arm, who quickly made his escape once Sanemi released him. Giyuu stepped forward, a hand outstretched, unsure what to do for Sanemi, who had lost all color in his face.

Thick dread struck hard at his chest and sunk deep into his stomach and down into his legs, paralyzing them. He had one thought as he watched the Kakushi go, passing another with a matching armful of towels, though blood-soaked.

Genya.