Chapter One: Infinite Infatuation
His eyes wandered with the assurance of a professional over the people gathered in the common room. Tables were scattered around the plain room. A shrill woman's voice called through an open doorway. Into which a man clearly past his prime disappeared for a moment then hastened around the room with food and drink. Jin relaxed to see the usual mix of farmers, laborers, and the girls serving them. Nothing to be concerned about here.
Jin strode toward the inn keeper. A sudden flash of red coming from his left drew his hand to his daishō as he spun to face...Mugen?
Mugen's wild and familiar maniacal grin met Jin's surprised gaze. Jin waited until Mugen released his grip on his daishō before he took his hand from the hilt of his sword.
Jin returned his gloating leer with an almost apologetic shrug of his shoulders. "Fancy meeting you here."
"What brings you to our fine establishment?"
Jin just stared. Mugen wasn't exactly merchant material. Yakuza maybe, but not merchant.
"I know it's hard to believe," Mugen explained with a self-depreciating shrug, "but it's my job to keep the peace here. It's not a bad gig and it keeps me fed. Plenty of excitement on the side." Mugen punched him in the shoulder. "You?"
Jin swept the room with a puzzled glance, ignoring the sting. Idiot still hadn't learned any control. After all trouble they had been through together, he didn't understand how Mugen would find anything about this quiet village "exciting."
"I'm here for a day or two. I've got to escort the farmers back home. I don't image this place offers baths?" Jin inquired with hopeful optimism.
"Yeah, around back. Just ask Eiji-san." They wove through the groups of farmers and workmen eating and drinking. When they reached a table in the back, Mugen flung himself down on the stool in front of a plate of dango.
Mugen picked up one of the sticks and slid the last dumpling into his mouth. He shook the stick in Jin's face while chewing his meal. "A bath is exactly what I would expect you ask for first. Here have some." Mugen slid the plate in front of Jin.
"Eiji-san!" Mugen waved a stick with its three impaled dumplings at the inn keeper. "My friend would like some more of these."
An affronted shout interrupted the quiet hum of conversation that had been building since Jin entered. He turned to a table across the room where some men played Chō-Han. A man stood and pointed his finger at another. Jin had no difficulty interpreting the situation.
Mugen stood. "I'll be back."
Jin sat back and watched Mugen move with sinuous beauty at odds in a man so deadly. He could be as graceful as a dancer when he was in his element, but equally awkward without some conflict to give him poise. Jin shook his head, only Mugen would be elegant in his violence. And what was he doing noticing and admiring?
When Mugen returned, Jin set down the last empty stick and pushed back from the table. "It would seem that all the rooms have been let for the night. I'll see what-"
"Hey man, I have a room here. I'll just have them set out another futon. Eiji-san won't mind."
Jin gave him a searching stare before nodding. "I'll just go have that bath then." He stood and went out the door the inn keeper had indicated when he brought the dumplings earlier.
How peculiar of Mugen, Jin mused as he stepped out of his bath. He couldn't see the man as a peace keeper. A rabble rouser, yes, but not a peace keeper.
He grabbed a bath sheet and set to drying his hair. Gathering the damp locks into a queue, Jin tied his hair back before washing his clothing in the used bath water. He so rarely had a chance to bathe himself much less his clothing. Jin finished wringing the last of the water out of the blue bundle of cloth.
Jin slipped on the threadbare yukata hanging with the towels. He would take his garments back to Mugen's room to dry overnight.
Returning from the bath, Jin could almost get what kept Mugen's interest in this inn. The common room had transformed into a rather boisterous collection of men drinking and arguing over Chō-Han and the women plying their trade. And true to form, Mugen was in the center of it all, just as loud and brazen as always. Jin smiled and watched the man in action.
Just the threat of force Mugen embodied defused trouble before any started. Exactly what an inn keeper would want protecting his interests.
"Ronin, I'll show you to Mugen's room."
Jin turned and followed the woman. Her disheveled kimono slipped down one shoulder. Her artful attempt at seduction was nearly as worn as the faded cloth failing to cover her charms.
She lead him to the end of the hall and kneeling, slid the thin rice paper door open. The room was small and plain. A futon covered most of the floor. A stand for Mugen's daishō occupied one corner and a small chest the other. Seems Mugen still believed in minimalism.
He whirled to face a whisper of motion at his back. The woman had let her hair down and moved into the room. She kept her eyes demurely on the floor as she brazenly reached for him. Her attempt to feign modesty repelled him.
"I have not the coin. You would do better to look elsewhere."
Abandoning her coy appearance, the woman gave him a pointed glare. Jin did his best to seem disappointed, not knowing if he managed. The woman flounced from the room, pulling her kimono back up her shoulders as she went.
Jin searched the room for somewhere to hang his cloths. He finally settled for draping his yukata over the empty daishō stand.
After tightening the sash on his borrowed yukata, Jin returned to the common room. The men seemed just as rowdy as when he had left earlier. He spotted Mugen back at his table, drinking sake.
"So--tell me--what are you doing here?" Mugen handed him a cup of sake.
Jin found himself recounting the minor jobs that he had taken along the way, and listening to Mugen’s accounts of his fights here. As the conversation wound down, he discovered that most of the patrons had left and they were both a little drunk.
Jin found being with some one he could pretty much trust comforting after all this time. They weren't exactly brothers, but brothers-at-arms. Mugen would cover his back, even if only so he could be the one to kill him, as he so often said, but never acted upon.
They stumbled back to Mugen’s room, holding each other up. Mugen still trying to make some point as his feet kept tangling in Jin's. Jin caught Mugen as he fell and slammed into the wall under the other man's weight. They stood there for a moment with Mugen leaning into him, breathing unsteadily into Jin's ear. The other man's breath tickled his ear and sent a shiver down his spine. With a lurch, Jin thrust the drunk back on his feet and set them both in motion again.
They stared nonplussed at the single futon in the room. The woman--in spite?--had never set out the second futon. Mugen, not the most stable at times, roared with laughter. Jin wasn't sure that he found anything funny in the situation.
"They must think you are my woman," Mugen gasped out between ridiculous guffaws. He slumped to the futon and waved his hand feebly in the air. "Must be the hair!"
Jin looked haughty and sniffed, "As I recall, the last time we were in a place like this. I satisfied four women and you didn't manage one."
"What?!" Mugen roared.
He swung one leg out and swept Jin's feet out from underneath him. Even drunk, Jin managed to land gracefully on the other end of the futon just out of Mugen’s reach.
"I can go longer than you any day of the week," Mugen insisted.
"Care to prove it?"
Mugen looked disconcerted for a moment, then shot back with, "All the women are taken at the moment. It's just you and me."
If he had thought that would end the argument, he had sadly underestimated their long standing pissing contest as well as the will of his opponent. With an inflexible look on his face, Jin said, "You're on!"
Mugen nearly panicked at that point. His mind looped on But we're both men! while his body froze in place for a moment too long. Jin pounced on him and reached into his pants before he could do anything. Then the well worn rivalry set in and he helped himself to whatever Jin sported under his yukata.
Both men gasped as their hands closed around the other's cock. The mutual stunned looks would have been comical under different circumstances. They hardened in each others' grasp. Mugen recovered first and with a hell bent look he began to pump Jin's growing erection. Not one to allow Mugen the upper hand, Jin promptly returned the favor.
In very short order, both swordsmen were moaning and panting for breath, as hands moved seductively over heated flesh. At first, they were somewhat awkward in their movements. Before long, they discovered a rhythm that promised dark pleasures neither had experienced before.
The hot skin covering Jin's cock felt smooth as silk over steel. The shaft grew moist in Mugen's hand, the loose skin covering the head sliding with every stroke. The unmistakable scent of sex filled the air.
The friction of Jin's callused fingers on his shaft made Mugen desperate in more ways than one. His balls drew up close. He wouldn't last long at this rate. He had to cum, but if he did, he would lose. He had never found himself in this kind of quandary before and knew he had to do something. And do it fast.
Mugen settled on leaning in and kissing Jin, knocking his glasses off in the effort. The initial shock of the kiss took the edge off for both of them. Mugen could actually see the goose bumps standing up on Jin. He didn't know if he should feel gratified or disgruntled by this. No longer in danger of blowing, he could take the time to focus on what they were doing.
At first Mugen's hand just slid up and down Jin's shaft, then he began to implement some of his favorite moves. Mugen pushed Jin's foreskin down, ran his thumb over the swollen edge of the crown and into the indention on top of the head. Jin shuddered and let out a breathtaking groan as Mugen smeared Jin's precum over the head of his cock.
Jin's yukata fell open, allowing Mugen to watch in fascination as he worked Jin's rod. The cock in his hand was, if possible, even larger than his own with a deep red head and surrounded by remarkably little body hair. He stared beguiled at the drops leaking down its length as the cock pulsed in his grip. Jin began to thrust into his hand.
He must have smirked in anticipation of his victory, because suddenly Jin's hips stilled. Mugen found himself on his back under Jin. He gathered himself to throw Jin off, when something intensely hot and wet covered the head of his cock.
Mugen just lay there trying to breathe and get the strength back into his limbs. Jin sucked lightly on the head of Mugen's cock. A velvety tongue caressed him, flicking around the edge of the crown and into the slit on top. His body began to tremble. He wouldn't--couldn't--stop it this time. The mouth holding him prisoner did amazing things, the likes of which he had never experienced before. He began to think that maybe, just maybe, he had been rash in taking the prettiest girl that time and leaving all the others to Jin. The women had obviously known their trade.
Jin grimaced at the sharp taste in his mouth. Why had those women behaved as if this were something to be sought after? Mugen tasted bitter, but he had to admit not as bitter as losing to Mugen. So he gathered his resolve and tried to remember some of the tricks the courtesans had used on him.
At first, Jin just sucked on Mugen's cock, but soon Mugen was thrusting and making him gag. Jin wrapped his hand around Mugen's cock to limit his depth and let Mugen do as he wanted. It sure made things a lot easier for him and guaranteed Mugen would lose it and the bet. Once Mugen's cock no longer pressed the back of his throat with every thrust, Jin's eyes quit tearing.
Jin ran his fingers over the balls pulled up tight to the other man's body. The panting and gasping immediately took on a more urgent note. Encouraged by these developments, his fingers further explored the body under him, stroking the soft skin behind the sac. Mugen began to buck in earnest.
Mugen could feel the lust coiled in his belly slowly unraveling. He pushed up on one elbow to watch himself sliding in and out of Jin's mouth. That mouth would fill with him on his up thrust, and hollow out as Jin sucked hard on his downward motion. Saliva glinted wetly down Mugen's length. He had never seen anything that turned him on so much.
Mugen lost control and thrust raggedly several times. Mugen came in a shuddering rush as deep into Jin's mouth as he could force himself.
Jin choked, then coughed and gagged. He spit as much of Mugen’s bitter seed out of his mouth as he could.
He had won, but just what had he won? He was still hard and unsatisfied, while Mugen lay there in a boneless heap with the most ridiculous sated grin on his face that Jin had ever seen.
"I win! Now to claim my prize."
Mugen just lay there, blinking blankly as he watched without comprehension. Jin gathered as much of Mugen's seed as he could and rubbed the cooling liquid on his erection. Had Mugen been capable of coherent thought at that point, he might have tried to get his lax joints to take him out of harm’s way. But Mugen was too busy enjoying his delicious orgasm to think of anything else or notice that his pants had been pushed down around one ankle.
He did however, notice when Jin pushed his legs further apart and something wet and firm pressed against his entrance. Mugen tried to sit up and push Jin off him. He had difficulty moving even though his brain had been jolted awake. The other man pinned his hands down to either side of his face and pushed firmly in. Mugen felt himself stretched and gasped half in pain, half in... Surely not pleasure?
"You're taking that busido thing too far," he gritted through his clenched teeth.
Jin gave a breathless half laugh, "Not busido. I told you I was claiming my prize." He continued to press his way in. "I won," he panted. "Now let me..."
Mugen had no intention of allowing him to do anything. The combination of almost pleasure and the discomfort of trying to fight in this compromising position held Mugen powerless to stop Jin. Mugen sighed with relief when the shaft sinking into him stopped moving. He could feel the ronin's hips against his ass and every shudder and twitch within his walls.
The stretch was uncomfortable, but a little pain could be good. The tattoos on his wrists and ankles had hurt much more. He'd always been a bit of an endorphin junkie, so he was pretty sure the rush he'd get from this would be good. With that drunken thought in mind he decided to just go with it. Too late to do anything about it anyways.
Engulfed by Mugen's wet heat, Jin rested on the hard angular body beneath him. Tremors ran through his own body, alerting them both to his need. Jin's heart pounded in his chest and he could feel the corresponding thumping in Mugen's breast. Harsh breaths caressed the side of Jin's neck.
Mugen's body embraced him in a dark velvety vice, clenching in waves. Eyes closed, lost in the sensations, Jin lay atop his prize.
When Mugen’s body relaxed, Jin wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Was Mugen just trying to catch him off guard and turn the tables on him, or did the other guy actually like this? Jin pushed up on his hands and experimentally loosened his grip on Mugen's wrists. As Mugen continued to lie there, relaxed and somewhat expectant, Jin released him and began to move.
As the cock inside him pulled back, Mugen noticed a strange almost ticklish sensation as the pressure receded. He wriggled, staggering them both with the unexpected response. Two of the most wanton moans either of them had ever heard escaped their lips.
They stared dumbfounded at one another until Mugen’s eyes drifted shut in the sexiest expression Jin had ever seen.
He immediately thrust back in. Jin felt himself move over something inside as Mugen’s walls clamped down on him with the best grip he had ever felt. Those women had been good. They even had some amazing tricks, but nothing to rival this. Jin had found the heaven he had been looking for. Judging by Mugen’s reaction, he had too.
Jin settled down to a steady rhythm as Mugen wrapped his legs around Jin's waist. Which of the women here had he learned that from? The steady in and out seemed to have quite an effect on the man under him. Every thrust was met with a groan and an answering upward swing of Mugen's hips. Every retreat with a breathless sigh and another clenching of that wondrous heat encasing Jin. Drop after pearly drop trickled down Mugen’s straining, trembling cock to pool in the hair encircling it. The reddened tip flaring with every clench of his passage.
Jin ran one hand up under the shirt covering Mugen's chest straining beneath him, fingers gliding over one taunt nipple. The gasp and clenching grew even stronger. Enthralled at the effect on the man under him, Jin shoved the shirt up, exposing both pink buds, and rubbed, pinched and tugged on them.
"I... I can't... Oh, fuck!" Mugen reached down and began to jerk himself off. Too close to wait any longer, he had to cum. And he had to cum, NOW! He couldn't understand how Jin could stand to just keep going like that.
Watching Mugen jerk himself off was just too hot. Now even Jin felt the urgency mounting as his hips slammed into the other man. Jin's balls pulled up tight and he could feel it building, getting ready to explode out of him in a delirious rush.
Under him, Mugen came, spattering his own belly with more of his seed. "Fuck yeah!"
Mugen's hand kept moving for several more strokes as he continued to pump his essence onto himself. His passage clenched with every spurt, forcing the orgasm out of Jin. With an inarticulate cry, Jin gave several more broken thrusts before stilling.
Head hanging, Jin gasped raggedly like he would never get his breath back. Jin lowered his forehead to Mugen’s before slumping limply onto him.
Jin tried several times to roll to the side, but was unsuccessful. Mugen unwound his legs from around Jin's hips and eased them both over onto their sides. Jin slipped out of Mugen with a groan. Mugen's groan rose to meet his in the still air of Mugen's room.
They lay there, half on each other, trying to calm their breathing. They were both so relaxed that they couldn't have moved away from one another even if that had been their intent. They lay, clothing in complete disarray, on a futon that had been torn apart by the throes of their passion for one another. Finally Jin gave up trying to regain some semblance of order. He opened his yukata and spread it over them both. Mugen hardly acknowledged it in his drowsy state. And they both sank into sleep.