Secret Missions and Not so Secret Rendezvous

Written for @scruffymctee based on an idea she had - a spicy Keiji in a secret rendezvous.. Hes on a mission destination unknown but naughty MC knew where he was and decided to appear ‘indiscreetly’ teasing him out of his hiding, 'punishing’ him by being away from her for so long.. Approx. 2300 words. SMUT!

Keiji grinned. The expression felt as fake to him as a courtesan’s blush, but the men at his table didn’t seem to notice. One slapped his back and slurred a compliment. At least, Keiji thought is was a compliment. Hard to tell, as drunk as the man was. He pretended he understood and clapped the man on his shoulder with jovial camaraderie.

Today marked nearly two months of infiltration into this band of ronin. They called themselves The Reaping Moon. Keiji suppressed a shiver as he recalled his initiation into the band. But the intel he’d gathered would make a difference. The merchant raids these men made their living from would stop. The townsfolk they harassed would get some peace. And Keiji could finally go home back to -

“Looks like ya have some deep thoughts.” The ronin’s leader Kizuato eyed him. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as his fellows. He led with a sharp wit, a careful eye, and a damn fast draw.

Keiji laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, yeah. Can’t get this girl out of my head. You know how it is.”

“One that got away? Or a lover?” Kizuato smacked the rear of the girl serving their sake.

“Little of both.” 

“Huh. Well if we head back toward your home town one of these days, we might run across her. What do you say to that, Aka?”

Aka. Keiji hadn’t chosen his nickname with this bandit crew. The ronin chose it for him, because of his hair and clothes. He nodded. “Be great. If I get hold of her this time, I won’t let go.”

Kizuato laughed. The scar that bisected his lips and ruined his nose shone in the low light, drawn taut by his expression. 

“Be right back.” Keiji stood and wandered toward the outdoor toilet. He didn’t want to talk about the chatelaine, even a pretend version of her. He missed her so much that it hurt. A physical ache in his chest that throbbed in time to his heartbeat. Her face haunted him every time he shut his eyes. Her voice followed him in dreams.

This mission had to end soon. Otherwise, he felt he would go crazy with missing her. He kept himself going with promises of what he’d do when he saw her again. Lift her off her feet. Kiss her a thousand times. Taste every bit of her skin. Hold her to him so he could feel her breath, her heartbeat. Make love all day. All week. 

He sighed. She might as well be as distant as the heavy moon that hung full in the sky above him. When he came back inside, there was a group of traveling players filing in from the front entrance. Three men and two women, all dressed in colors more bright and chaotic than his own clothing. The women hid their faces behind fans, laughing and making eyes at the guests as they made their way to a screened area to sit. The men called out to advertise their show on the morrow and did cartwheels and handstands until they were out of sight.

Kizuato watched them with a speculative eye. “How much do you think a group like that brings in?”

“Enough to eat. Maybe enough for an inn sometimes,” Keiji replied with a grimace.

“Huh.” The scarred bandit leader downed his sake and kept staring. 

Keiji nudged him. “You thinking about a career change, boss?”

Kizuato laughed. “Nah. You’d make a pretty dancing made though eh?” He grinned widely. 

“Me? I could try but I don’t have the hips for it.”

The rest of the band guffawed, rude gestures and comments all around. Keiji laughed too. 

“Those girls had nice hips though. A good sway to ‘em.” Kizuato eyed Keiji. “Why don’t you go ask ‘em to dance for us. You say it with that smile and they can’t say no.” His expression left no doubt about his reaction if they did say no. The bandits took what they wanted. Asking was only a bare courtesy.

Keiji stood reluctantly. He didn’t want to involve the players, but refusing could blow his cover. Get him beaten or killed, even if he wasn’t revealed. “Well, a man can ask, right?” He kept the bitter twist from his tone. 

He went up to the edge of the screen and tapped it lightly. One of the men peeked past. “Oh! A fan, are you! Don’t worry little boy, I’ll be signing autographs tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Autographs. Tomorrow.” The man made his mark in the air. “So run along. Tonight is for grown-ups to celebrate.”

“Real funny. Look, my boss over there wants you to come dance for him. He’s not real patient and he doesn’t take rejection well. So how ‘bout you do a little performance rehearsal.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Huh. Let me think about it.” His head disappeared behind the screen and there was a muted whisper of conversation. Keiji tried to eavesdrop but there were too many noisy drunks to hear anything. 

After a moment, the man poked his head out. “We have a condition.”

Keiji felt his brows rise. “Yeah?”

“You have to watch.”

For a moment, Keiji just stared at the man’s face. Was this for real? Where was the catch? What kind of condition was that?! Finally, he shrugged. “Sure.”

“Then we’ll be right over.”

Keiji returned to his table with a nod to the boss. He’d barely sat back down when two of the men came out, slapping a rhythm on their thighs. The women followed, fans still held in front of their faces. They walked to the rhythm, steps as light as petals in the wind. 

The bandits howled their approval, and the other drunks as well. 

The two dancers winked flirtatiously, pretending as if they might show their faces, but as they moved, they kept themselves covered. Their sleeves fluttered and their fans fluttered as they spun and stepped in an unusual dance. It was like nothing Keiji ever saw before. 

There was no harvest dance, no festival, with motions like this. None he ever saw. The movements were raw and sensual, but with a delicacy to them. Kizuato and his men beat their hands in time against the table or clapped or stomped. There was no eye not on the girls.

The two of them began to weave in and out of the audience, grazing touches, dodging grabbing hands with a laugh and a slap of their fans. One of them danced close to Keiji. Close enough that he could smell her light scent, sweet and familiar. 

His eyes went wide.

For a heartbeat, her fan flickered to the side, exposing a face he knew well. A face he loved. 

She giggled before snapping her fan back into place and spinning away from him again. 

“You like that one, eh Aka?” Kizuato noted his expression.

“Yeah I do. That’s the kinda girl you marry.” 

His boss laughed. “You ready to settle down after one saucy wink?”

Keiji grinned. “You didn’t see the look she gave me. That one’s worth all the treasure in the world.” 

Kizuato looked like he had a ready reply, but he never had the chance to say it. The doors at the front and back of the establishment were thrown open. Oda guards burst in, knocking heads as they came on. The bandit leader turned to flee, but he wasn’t fast enough.

The third performer, disguised as a drunk patron, knocked him out cold. Golden eyes winked at Keiji, obscured by a low-brimmed cap.

It took a little while to wrangle everyone, but soon enough the drunks were cleared out and the bandits arrested. When everything was mostly settled, Keiji went looking for the dancing girl. His dancing girl. He found her on an upstairs balcony, sitting on the narrow wooden rail.

“I was wondering if you would make it up here.” She tilted her head, her smile enigmatic, her eyes shadowed pools in the moonlight.

Keiji grinned. “I couldn’t keep my lady waiting.” He swept a ridiculously formal, low bow and then reached for her. He couldn’t wait to bury his face in her hair and feel her skin against him.

She smacked his hand with the hard edge of her fan. 

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“Taking liberties. You can’t just go reaching for a lady like that.” She shook her head.

Keiji pouted. “Liberties? Come on! We’ve slept together. I’ve seen you naked!”

“Months ago. By now, we’re practically strangers.” 

“Strangers?” He raised his eyebrows, a hint of sharpness to his tone.

She nodded. “Oh yes. Months with not a word from you. I had to convince Mitsuhide to tell me what was going on. And then getting Nobunaga’s permission for this … without so much as a letter!” 

Keiji ran a hand through his hair. “Aww come on! I was on a mission. A secret mission! I can’t just -”

“You’re telling me there was no point where you could have dropped a letter to me? Not even when you were sending back reports?”

Well. She had him there. He could have. It’s just … “I didn’t know what to write. That I miss you? Of course I miss you. That I love you? Saying it didn’t seem like enough. I just wanted to keep you here,” he touched his chest, “until I could have you in my arms again.”

Her breath was sharp, as if what he said surprised her. Then a smile slowly turned her lips up at the edges. She slid the fan along his jaw lightly, teasing. “I suppose we could renew our acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance?” Keiji snorted. 

She smacked his cheek lightly. “Liberties again. That mouth will get you in trouble.”

“Lady, this mouth has gotten me in trouble. More than once.” He smirked. “Gotten me out of trouble too.”

His words brought a slight blush to her cheeks but she hid it well. “Then let’s see how well it works this time. Getting you out of instead of into … trouble.” 

Keiji raised an eyebrow. 

She extended her fingers to brush against his lips, like petals, soft as sin. 

He kissed the tips of them one at a time, gently nipping and suckling at her skin. Keiji did not miss the breathy gasp nor the slight tremor that ran through her. He knew she’d missed him too. 

His hungry kisses trailed across her palm and she dropped the fan. He pushed her sleeve up, out of his way. His lips caressed her wrist, the tender skin of her inner arm. Up - until he needed to push the sleeve down to reach the gentle slope of her shoulders. 

There was no hiding her desire now. Each breath was punctuated with a soft, eager moan. Sounds that grew louder as he he reached her collarbone. Her throat. Keiji captured her lips and pulled her to him. 

She tasted like wine, sharp and sweet. Intoxicating. Her sharp little teeth tugged at his lower lip. Her tongue slid along his, a battle to dominate the kiss, a playful back and forth. Her hands pushed aside his clothes. Nails drew little lines down his sides and back. 

Keiji lifted her. She settled against him, legs wrapping around his hips. Her kimono had fallen open, though he couldn’t remember untying the artful knots. Her skin was hot against his. Her soft breasts crushed against his chest. Desire, sharp as a blade, pierced him. 

This room had no futon, no reed mat. He didn’t care. All he needed was her. All he could see, feel, taste … and he wanted more. Keiji pressed her back against a wall, one hand fumbling at the tie on his pants. 

She rolled her hips against him, taunting. 

His pants fell to pool on the floor at his feet. He forgot them the moment they were out of his way. He wanted to be in her so badly it hurt. A fire in his heart, in his head, and his loins. Keiji’s hips rocked forward and up, intent on that one goal.

Laughing, panting, breathily, she arched just out of reach. Letting him graze the silken heat between her legs, no more than that.

Keiji groaned, a shudder running up his spine at even just this light touch. 

She gave a triumphant smile, denying the slight strain of her own desire. A small price to pay to leave him in this desperate straight. Then with a serpentine motion, graceful as a dance, her hips met his, a sinuous, slow joining. 

Agonizing pleasure shot through Keiji as he let her control the moment. Filling herself with him. Trembling in his arms. Then he could take no more of this teasing. 

The thin walls of the inn afforded the lovers no privacy. The sounds of their pleasure brought a knowing smirk to the faces of the captured bandits and the guards that held them. 

Not that Keiji cared. There would be time later for stained cheeks and dirty jokes. For now, he was lost in her. Months of pent up desire drove him to claim her with rough desperation. And she was no delicate flower. Her nails raked his back and her teeth left little bruises on his shoulders and neck. She reached her peak once, twice, again. Keiji wanted more. He wanted to bring her to that crest of bliss at least once for every day apart, he wanted … but his own pleasure was building. Shaking in his thighs, pulsing through his low belly. A rush like the incoming tide. A wave he could not hold back. 

Keiji bit his lip to try to muffle the sound as he found release. Almost a sob, as intense euphoria tore through him. He slid to the floor, pulling her down atop him. 

She laid her head on his chest, idly toying with his nipples as they both trembled from the aftershocks of their love. “Never leave me for so long again,” she whispered. “I can’t take it.”

“Me either,” he managed in reply. This beautiful, fiery, mad woman that was his own. She was part of him and it felt good and right to be here with her. He felt whole again. His arms tightened around her in a silent promise.