kinkfest | Just a Bit (Samurai Deeper Kyo; Kyo/Yukimura; PG-13) (Reply)

Title: Just a Bit
Author: opalmatrix
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: swearing, crossdressing, lots of liquor, and mild m/m
Prompt: Samurai Deeper Kyo, Kyo/Yukimura: crossdressing - Just the two of them, sharing alcohol.
Word count: 1124
Summary: Five years after the end of the series, two old friends meet for some drinks.
A/N: Written for springkink IX. Beta by the painstakingly thorough smillaraaq (who lessoned me on Edo-era drinkables) and the fabulous avierra. Sorry this is late - it should have been posted March 13

Only one person had ever got within Kyo's guard without his notice, and so there was really no question as to who was standing before him in the inn's tiny garden - even though that person was dressed as a townswoman, in a kimono of soft olive green with a wood-brown obi looped over the belly, and a demure white bag of a hat.

"Huh. Yukimura. You make a lousy shop-woman."

The deceptively dainty figure before him pouted sweetly and then laughed. "You're sharp as ever, Kyo-san."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Jinpachi reported seeing you on the road to Kyoto. It's been a long time since we've talked."

"You crazy little bastard - you're still supposed to be in exile."

"Very true. What a life, with a price always on my head. Weren't you going to ask me to sit down?"

"Nope. But you can sit if you want." Kyo moved over to make room on the bench. Yukimura stepped forward, revealing a stoppered jug and two flasks on the ground behind him.

"So, what's all that?"

Yukimura turned to look, as though he'd never seen any of it before. "Ah ha, I believe the jug is Fushimi sake - the finest grade. The red pottery flask would seem to be shochu, and the black one is plum wine of some sort."

Kyo grinned and leaned back against the wooden slats of the wall behind him. "You'll never change, Yukimura. Give me that sake."

Yukimura hoisted the heavy jug gracefully and passed it over before seating himself beside Kyo. He looked around the little garden. "This is really quite pleasant. And the moon should be up soon. How is Yuya-san? And the children?"

"She's fine. Pregnant again. I've started Masayo on bokken drills." Kyo unstoppered the jug and took a long swig. "Hmmm. Good stuff."

"And the boys?"

"Too little to remember much yet. Kazumura tries to follow his sister, but Taisuke's still pretty useless."

"Well, he's only three, isn't he? Give him time. Don't they miss you?"

"Daddy Demon gets nasty when he's home all the time, so Mommy Dogface throws him out for a week or two."

"Oh ho. And here I thought married life was suiting you."

Kyo passed him the jug. "It does. Yuya knows when I need to take a hike, and I know when to come back."

Yukimura sipped meditatively from the jug and swallowed. "Ah. Balance is everything, isn't it?"

"You're married - you should know."

"It's not the same. Akihime is a good woman, but she knows I married her because she was Otani Yoshitsugu's foster-daughter. You're lucky." He took another drink from the jug and passed it back. His hand was shaking - only very slightly, but Kyo saw it. He looked away and raised the jug to his lips again. From the corner of his eye, he saw Yukimura smiling at him, his cheeks flushed with the liquor - almost shockingly pretty, still, after all these years.

"How old are you now, Yukimura?"

"So rude, to ask a lady her age," murmured Yukimura.

Kyo thrust the near-empty jug at him abruptly. "One Akari is enough."

Yukimura took the jug and leaned forward so that Kyo saw his face clearly. The crows' feet at the corners of his eyes were distinct creases, and the jawline was no longer quite as firm as Kyo remembered. But his skin was still smooth, otherwise, and his eyes were shining. "I've lived 47 years, Kyo-san. And you have 38. Of course, you still look as young as ever." He leaned back and drank the remaining sake. "Ahh, empty. Nothing lasts, does it?"

Kyo snorted. "Philosophy? You need another drink."

"Yes, I think I do." Yukimura leaned forward and snagged the shochu flask. For a moment, poised on the very edge of the bench, he looked as though he was going to pitch forward onto his face. Kyo grabbed him by his obi and hauled him back. Yukimura settled onto the seat, leaning against Kyo's arm a little more than he needed to. He pulled the bottle's stopper and offered the flask to Kyo, who extracted his arm from between Yukimura's warm back and the wall and took it.

"Do you remember our third fight, Kyo-san? I think of it often."

Kyo closed his eyes and drank. The fiery liquor warmed the cold spot that was trying to form in his gut. That third duel with Yukimura, when Yukimura had fought him to a standstill. No one had done that since, although Akira tried and tried. The wrenching, inglorious fights before the Crimson Throne, when he had been already exhausted and gravely injured, didn't count.

Yukimura would never be able to do that for him again.

"Me, too." He opened his eyes and passed his old comrade the flask. Yukimura tipped his head back and took a long drink. With the smaller bottle, his arm was steady and his motions smooth. He's not really old, thought Kyo. He could live for tens of years yet.

If someone doesn't kill him first.

Abruptly, Kyo leaned over and pulled the white silk from Yukimura's head. Beneath, Yukimura's inky hair was pulled and tied into a tail. The rising moon picked out a few threads of silver in the darkness. Kyo dropped the hat onto the ground and pulled at the ribbon until Yukimura's hair tumbled to his shoulders. "Better," said Kyo.

Yukimura smiled, his eyes half-lidded, and handed him the flask once more. When Kyo passed it back, it was almost empty. "Ah, Kyo-san, these flasks just aren't as large as they used to be, are they? It's fortunate that we still have the plum wine." Yukimura drained the last drops.

"Don't know that I want any of that girl stuff."

"Well, when I said plum wine, I guess I should have been more specific. This isn't the sake-based stuff - it starts with some top-quality, powerful shochu. Potent. I think you'll like it." Yukimura, moving ever so carefully, picked up the black flask.

"Well. I was gonna start early tomorrow. Go home."

"Kyo-san, surely you haven't had enough to have a hangover in the morning? Your capacity used to be remarkable."

"Hell. It still is. Damn. Just gimme that thing."

Yukimura extracted the stopper and handed the flask to him. "You know what they say, Kyo-san: a little bit of what you fancy does you good."

Kyo looked at the flask in his hand, then looped his other arm around Yukimura's waist and pulled him close. He let his hand slide down to Yukimura's hip and then lower, long fingers squeezing muscle that was still firm. Yukimura made a soft, gruff musical sound, deep in his throat. Kyo tipped his head to rest on Yukimura's, his wild hair mingling with the older man's sleek locks.

"I guess just a little bit won't hurt," he said.

Yukimura's outfit is shown here, at the Costume Museum in Kyoto.