Mixed Dish

Title: Mixed Dish
Author: ClarySage
Disclaimer: I don't own Samurai Warriors, I just write porn about the characters instead.
Rating: Nc-17
Warnings: This pairing became a favorite of a friend and I, after we discussed SW at length...we decided Mitsuhide liked to spy on Hanzo and giggle...a Lot. Sorry for the complete sillyness...and porniness of it all.

There was something in his room, Hanzo Hattori was sure. For the past few days now, whenever he entered his bedroom and began to disrobe for the night, he’d heard strange sounds, almost like breathy little giggles. He was almost positive no one would dare enter his room uninvited, let alone spy on him undressing. Then again, Oda’s Castle was weird that way. Just the other day he’d been walking down the corridor near Oda’s rooms, when he’d heard a strange, eerie moaning. Maybe the castle was haunted?

“Tee hee!”

Okay, that time he’d most definitely heard it. There was someone in his room. Hanzo quietly edged around his rather small bedroom. He would have peered under the bed, only it was a futon, and was as close to the floor as nature would allow, so no one could possibly be under it. There were no windows in his room, so no one would be hiding behind the non-existent cloth of the non-existent curtains. This left just one place, the small closet in one corner, a thin length of fabric covering the opening. Hanzo crept quietly over to it, and ripped back the curtain. He hadn’t really expected anyone to be in it. After all, ninja are prone to paranoia.

A pair of large, liquid gray eyes stared back at Hanzo, and then blinked. There was an uneasy giggle and then Hanzo grabbed the man and yanked him out of the closet. “Who are…” he rolled to a stop, recognizing the peeper, “Akechi? What are you doing in my closet?”

“Uh,” Mitsuhide Akechi glanced around and shrugged, as if to say, he’d somehow wound up there completely by accident. He stared at Hanzo’s chest, and then his eyes slid down and seemed to get stuck at Hanzo’s barely covered crotch.

It was at this point; Hanzo realized he was half undressed, having been distracted by the strange giggling noises while he’d been getting ready for bed. Quickly he slapped one hand over his chest and cupped the other over his genitals. A blush began working it’s way from his ears down. He wasn’t used to people openly eyeing his naked body. Or even his clothed one, for that matter - though, really, that was most likely because he was invisible most of the time, sinking into the shadows and becoming one with them.

Mitsuhide still hadn’t answered, looking keenly uncomfortable as Hanzo stared back at him, alternately Hanzo noticed for the first time that Mitsuhide’s clothes were half-undone. He was about to ask again why Mitsuhide had been hiding in his closet, but became distracted by a patch of bare skin flashing at him. So, that the question he was tempted to ask became: why was Mitsuhide hiding in his closet and half-naked?

Hanzo wasn’t usually quite so slow on the uptake, but he also wasn’t used to being surprised by half-naked warriors spying on him in his own bedroom. Half-naked and apparently half-hard warriors, he noted as his eyes slid a little lower. For a very confused moment Hanzo wondered what he should do, there was no previous protocol outline for this, no training or weapon specified. It didn’t help that as a solitary, lonely ninja, Hanzo hadn’t had sex in years, and Mitsuhide’s flashes of bare flesh were beyond tempting, the skin looking smooth, pale, and enticing.

The long, flowing hair, which was normally loose, had been neatly tied back. Hanzo wasn’t even aware of when he’d reached out to grab a hold of Mitsuhide, he only knew he was suddenly doing so, their faces a few inches apart. Mitsuhide’s breath smelled of sake and the sweet tang of sticky rice, and Hanzo’s stomach lurched at the scent, a strange roll not unlike hunger, but different. He tried to ignore the sudden uprising in his pants, the peasants taking arms and rioting towards to gates…as it were.

Mitsuhide on the other hand, seemed to be mesmerized. His eyes were glued to Hanzo’s pants. Occasionally they would slide upward to try and meet Hanzo’s eyes, only to chicken out and slide downward, again riveted to the slow tenting of the black cloth. Mitsuhide heard a panting sound, and once more tried to meet Hanzo’s eyes, failed, and then realized he was the one panting. “I, uh, I…” he stammered out, wishing his hair were down so he could hide behind its dark veil. A blush -which had been there from the beginning- became fiery as it filled his face and slithered down his neck. He coughed uncomfortably and tried to inch back into the closet.

Before Mitsuhide could draw another breath he was yanked completely away from the closet and thrust toward the futon on the floor. He tripped over the edge of it and landed sprawled on top, still unable to look Hanzo in the eye. He waited for the inevitable “Why were you spying on me?” or some other question involving the interrogative “why”, but it never came.

Mitsuhide finally managed to meet Hanzo’s eyes and immediately became entranced, now unable to look away from them, which was slightly better than where his gaze had been previously trapped. They were a vivid golden-green, and currently bore a contemplative look that made Mitsuhide shiver and want to look away again. The ninja stepped closer, seemingly taking up all the room as he looked down at the longhaired warrior.

After what seemed an eternity of staring, Hanzo’s quiet voice filtered down to Mitsuhide’s bright red ears, it whispered in a hushed way, “suck my cock.”

Mitsuhide gasped and then covered his mouth, an absolute thrill of lust rushing through him before he managed to control himself and looked shyly down at Hattori’s feet, which he noticed were bare. Above him there was the soft sound of cloth being shifted. When Mitsuhide looked back up, he came instantly to attention at the sight that greeted him.

Strangely, though Hanzo had removed his toe-socks, and his armor, he still wore his mask. So that above his now naked erection, all Mitsuhide could see were his eyes, none of his expression visible behind the concealing black cloth. He swayed, leaning forward and reaching out to steady himself on one of Hanzo’s legs, the loosened pants slid beneath his grip, revealing the top of a pale, well-muscled thigh. His eyes grew large at the sight and he trembled again, before leaning in and tentatively putting his mouth just to one side of Hanzo’s cock. Well, this was what he’d wanted, for the most part. He hadn’t exactly expected romance from the reclusive ninja, but…somehow he hadn’t exactly pictured this either. In some ways, this was better, and ever so much more Hattori.

Abruptly Mitsuhide was jerked forward, his face pressing hotly against Hanzo’s length, he could feel it throbbing against his cheek, could smell the tang of sweat and come. Without a second thought he turned his head and wrapped his lips around Hattori, moaning as the taste and heat hit his tongue.

Hattori was struck with the idea that Mitsuhide should be doing such a thing for a living. He was sloppy to be sure, but there was no sign of teeth, just the constant brush of tongue, and a beautifully wet suction. The liquid gray eyes, which had closed after the first few seconds, opened again, looking up and meeting Hanzo’s gaze. Around the mouthful of cock he let out another low moan, increasing the suction and pressure. Hanzo’s fingers buried themselves in the wealth of silken hair, jerking the little hair-tie out and tossing it to one side, tugging Mitsuhide’s head closer by the loose strands.

Hanzo wanted to think about the things that were happening in a cool and collected manner, to apply his mind to it and mull it over for a few days. Unfortunately, Mitsuhide’s mouth kept him from thinking anything other than what else he’d like to do to the sexy warrior currently servicing him. Mitsuhide began moaning constantly around his mouthful, for all the world acting like a seasoned whore. Only better, as Hanzo hadn’t had to pay anything, and he was getting the cock sucking of a lifetime.

Just as he felt himself about to release, Hanzo yanked Mitsuhide away, holding him by the hair. He almost lost himself as he looked down. The warrior’s mouth was wet, and a lush pink, and he was still staring at Hanzo’s cock as if he’d like to spend the rest of his life sucking on it. Hanzo spent a long moment merely looking down, watching him. He’d noticed before that Mitsuhide was attractive, you couldn’t help but notice, but seeing him like this was different, knowing he wanted nothing more in the world than what he was currently doing. Hanzo thought he could grow to like this treatment.

With a smirk that went unseen behind his mask, Hanzo tumbled Mitsuhide backwards; ordering in his hushed voice, “strip.”

Mitsuhide only froze for a second before complying, rapidly removing his clothes, and tossing them to either side of the futon. The word ‘ravish’ popped unbidden in to Hanzo’s mind as his eyes traveled over the pale, sleek form. Everything about Mitsuhide Akechi was perfect, from the top of his shiny ebony head of hair to the bottom of his slightly pinked feet. Hanzo wanted to devastate it and possess it all at once, that perfection.

An idea came upon him as to what to do next with the man his room, and he glanced around before his eyes came to rest on the two candles sitting near his bed. Pulling up his pants and retying them, he walked over, carefully snuffing one candle out and eyeing it. It was about the right length and width, and was still a bit warm from having been burning for the past hour. Hanzo smiled and tossed it on the bed next to Mitsuhide, walking around the futon until they faced once more. Again his quiet voice filtered through the air, “use it.”

Mitsuhide was trembling, his eyes wide and shining in the dim light, slowly he reached out and slid his fingers around the candle, tentatively bringing it in front of himself. He looked up then, meeting the gaze that burned into him and wondered if Hanzo really wanted him to do what he thought he wanted him to do with the candle. He had a feeling Hanzo didn’t want him to light it and read poetry by its ambience. What had he gotten himself into?

He’d been obsessed with the quiet ninja from the moment he’d laid on eyes on him; the spying had begun barely a week after he’d moved into the castle. There was just something about Hanzo Hattori, the dark secretive clothes, the intense eyes, the tendency to seek out shadows and slink around in them. It all conspired to make Mitsuhide positively rigid with lust. So he’d begun spying and hadn’t been able to stop.

Mitsuhide had faced armies, but Hanzo’s eyes were suddenly making him quake like never before. He took a deep breath, realizing the only way to do as Hanzo had asked was to pretend it was Hanzo doing it to him. Slowly he began moving the candle, feeling embarrassed, turned on, and just a little crazed. He realized after a few seconds that he’d have to change position, and shyly spread his legs, lifting his hips towards Hanzo as he nudged the candle towards his most secretive of places.

He tried to put it inside himself, honestly he did, but it wouldn’t fit. Mitsuhide hadn’t realized he’d be too dry and the candle too big. He pushed and strained against it, frustrated now as well as horny and embarrassed. He was just about to give up when Hanzo suddenly lunged closer, flipping him over, and taking the candle from his hand. The candle nudged the inside of his thighs and Mitsuhide got the hint, lifting himself to hands and knees, and spreading his legs wide. He was thrilled he could now hide his flaming face against the futon, his hands fisting in the soft blankets as he felt Hanzo behind him.

At first he wondered how Hanzo was going to be able to get it in, and then he heard the sound of a cork, and felt the slide of oil dribbling down his back and slipping between his cheeks. He waited for Hanzo to begin, but instead the candle was pressed back into his hand. “Now,” the soft voice said.

Mitsuhide didn’t bother turning over again, awkwardly pressing and prodding the candle against himself until there was a slight give and it slid in a surprising inch. Instantly he stiffened and began to pull it out, and then remembered that he was pretending it was Hanzo doing this to him, and Hanzo wouldn’t back off like that. With a sharp intake of breath he pushed it deeper, and then slowly drew it out before trying to gain even deeper access.

After a few moments, he forgot that it was his own hand, and fell into the fantasy that it was Hanzo sliding deeper, Hanzo roughly fucking him into the futon. It was easier than being aware of what he was doing to himself in front of Hanzo, because if he thought about that too long, he’d surely die of shame. Mitsuhide also ignored the pleading, muffled moans he was screaming into the futon, because he didn’t want to hear himself beg so obscenely to be taken and used.

It was just on the cusp of a mind-blowing orgasm that Hanzo stopped him, pulling the candle out of his hand and his ass in one sharp movement. Mitsuhide wailed, wriggling on the futon and desperately seeking contact once more. He was beyond thought now, his body having taken over, shutting off his brain and usurping all control. Mitsuhide didn’t care what sort of sight he made, naked, oily, humping the bed. His body merely knew it wanted more, then more, and then more again. “Hanzooo,” he moaned against the pillows and blanket. Apparently the speech center of his brain was still up and running.

Hanzo watched the warrior writhing and moaning for all of a minute before he pounced. He flattened Mitsuhide’s hands to the bed and molded himself to the bouncing, impatient backside. With rough, barely controlled movements, Hanzo managed to guide himself into Mitsuhide, and then thrust hard. A whimper escaped Mitsuhide, sounding somewhat like “Hanzz-” but getting cut off as Hanzo began moving.

Midnight hair was scattered all around, waves of it spread over Mitsuhide’s back and neck, covering his face and spilling off onto the floor. Hanzo grasped at it, pulling it all together, and then tugging until Mitsuhide leaned back against him. He used the hair like reins, guiding the warrior into riding him, before wrapping it around Mitsuhide’s wrists as if it were rope. His hands slipped down, molding around Mitsuhide’s hips, and forcing the warrior to bounce high and hard.

With each thrust Mitsuhide let out a high pitched squeal, tears of ecstasy streaming from his eyes as he rode Hanzo’s cock. It was almost too much, the heat, the slipperiness, the soft, guttural grunts in his ear. He screamed long and loud as Hanzo pulled out, the screams abruptly cutting off as Hanzo flipped him over and entered again. He found himself staring up into golden green eyes, tears blurring his own so that he didn’t even see the mask being removed or the mouth that descended to find his own.

On the first thrust of Hanzo’s tongue into his mouth, Mitsuhide exploded into orgasm, drenching his stomach, Hanzo’s stomach, the bed, part of a pillow, and a good bit of his own hair. Then he collapsed bonelessly, letting Hanzo take him as hard as he wanted. Hanzo growled, lifting one relaxed thigh and spreading it at an almost uncomfortable angle, pumping hard and ruthlessly. A few more thrusts and he came, not registering the name that floated away from him as he did, lost in the haze of release that clouded his mind.

Eventually, Hanzo became aware again, slowly noticing how hot and sticky they were, and that at some point the other candle had burned out and the room was lit only by a gloomy blackness leeching in under the door. Mitsuhide murmured sleepily as Hanzo slid out of his body with a wet sound. The warrior seemed absolutely dazed, barely moving as Hanzo stood. A few minutes went by, only the sound of footsteps pattering around the room audible.

The futon sagged slightly near Mitsuhide’s knee and a soft, dry cloth began carefully wiping him clean. It seemed everything about the ninja was slightly unexpected. At last he was dry and reasonably clean, falling asleep on the sex soaked bed. Just before he drifted off completely, he felt Hanzo slide next to him, his arms possessively gliding around Mitsuhide and pulling him close. Mitsuhide sighed happily, and passed out.

Hanzo lay awake for some time, idly caressing the skin near his hands, kissing Mitsuhide’s neck, and hair, and the bit of mouth that wasn’t completely turned away. Eventually he curled around the warrior and held him tightly, whispering so softly he could barely hear himself, “You’re mine now, Mitsuhide.”


The End?
Mwhahaa…or not ^_^’