Disclaimer: The usual. I do not nor will I ever own Rurouni Kenshin or any of its characters.

Notes: If you read Sano's Room, then you'll easily recognize this as a companion piece. It is not necessary to read that fic to understand this one, but if you like this, then I recommend going to read it as well. It's shorter, actually, and (I think) better.

Warnings: SHOUNEN-AI! Got it? If you can't tolerate the idea of two men kissing etc, don't read this. Other than that, it's rather mild. Mention of domestic abuse, sexual relations, and underage alcohol consumption.

If that's all, then feel free to continue onward!

To Err and Forgive

            I remember the first time I saw him. It was not that long ago, really. It was my first day at the University--I had transferred in from the local community college--and I was already overwhelmed. I'm not much of a 'student,' if you catch my drift. The place was a little big for me, and I couldn't figure out for the life of me how I was supposed to understand my Math prof. when she had a heavy Russian accent.

            He was in my Spanish class. I walked in, ready to quit for the day, and I saw him. My first thought was: That hair has got to be dyed. Nobody had hair that red and claimed it was natural. Not only that, but it was clear down to his waist. He had it pulled back, which made the length all that much more impressive. I did not know any other guy who could wear his hair like that and make it look good. He could have been one of those supermodels from the magazines that all the girls giggle and blush over. Except he was too short. The top of his head barely came up to my shoulder.

            I would have ignored him after that. I made it a habit not to hang out with guys who did wild stuff with their appearance. It was an attention-grabber, and I hated being the center of attention.

            As luck would have it, we wound up being in the same study group. He had this... charisma, for lack of a more practical word. He was in-your-face cheerful and majorly laid back all at once. I smirked while he laughingly let some girl try to teach him to roll his 'r's. He couldn't do it to save his life.

            "Why don't you try, Sanosuke," he had said after awhile. "I'm no good at this."

            'Sanosuke,' he'd called me. Most people jumped straight to 'Sano' when I gave them the option. He waited until we knew each other a little better.

            I called him 'Red' when he let me. He didn't like it much. Got this irritated look on his face, his nose all crinkled up. I'd call him 'Red' just to see that look.

            Even though he couldn't roll his 'r's worth shit, the guy's memory was better than mine, by far. Photographic, he said. He looked at things and remembered them, no matter what the time passed. He also said it was equal parts gift and curse, whatever that meant. I figured it out later, but when he told me I just laughed and shrugged it off.

            I asked him for help on a paper--all in Spanish, of course--and he agreed. Then I asked him out. He was surprised, but he just smiled at me and said he'd 'love to.' It was kind of surprising to me because I never thought I went for that, but hey... I guess things like that happen.

            It was the hardest damned relationship I'd ever gotten myself into. He wasn't a girl. I slipped up the first couple months, treating him like one. I did the usual, holding open doors, the light touch of my hand against his cheek, some stuttered flowery junk about his beauty. He laughed it off, shaking his head and calling me silly. He didn't like it. I didn't get it. It near broke us apart.

            We went out. I took him to this place I'd just discovered. Ferns or something like that. Fancy and not cheap. He'd been in a bad mood that night to begin with. Finals were coming up, he had to write a report for a class later that week, and he had just discovered that his cat had died while he was away at school. Talk about a shitty week. My intention had been to get his mind off all that. It didn't work out that way.

            Even as tired as he looked, he was the best looking thing I'd ever laid eyes on. This guy, I'm telling you, could make a muumuu look good. In light pants and a sweater, he turned heads.

            But his attitude sucked. He shook his head at all my attempts to cheer him up, and I eventually snapped at him. I believe the exact words were:

            "Geez, Red. I know you've had a rough week, but you're really being a bitch tonight."

            If looks could kill... He walked out on me. I had to grab the waiter to get some estimate of what the meal had cost, spent too much on the tip, and went running after him. But he was gone. He'd hopped into his little BMW--did I mention his family had some serious cash?--and drove away.

            It was the usual lovers' spat, only he didn't go all teary-eyed on me when I finally confronted him. He can be one cold son-of-a-bitch when he wants to be. He just glared at me, that scary look-of-death, and said he was sick of being treated like some trash picked up on the corner.

            And there you have it. I was officially lowered to the rank of 'asshole boyfriend.'

            There was a lot of bootlicking and groveling involved in getting myself back in his good graces. He finally agreed to start seeing me again, but on the condition that he got to do some leading. What was I to say? Was I willing? Hell yeah!

            He took me clubbing. The little twerp was two years younger than me, but he got into those bars, no problem. We went dancing and quickly found that he was a god and I was a peon. He taught me, and I'd invite him to my place just to dance with him.

            First time he came over, we didn't do much. He thought my room was the funniest thing he'd seen. So what if I had stuffed animals on my bed? I hit him with a shirt that had been sitting on my desk. He laughed and flung it back at me. We went to war, our ammo: whatever soft objects we could find on the floor. There were a lot.

            He kissed me for the first time that day.

            It wasn't like we'd never kissed before. It was just that I'd always started it. He wasn't totally comfortable with it, and he usually got all tense and just smiled at me when I pulled away. He never kissed back. Not really. But this time... whoooooo, boy. That was something else. I had been missing out.

            We spent a lot of time in my room. He liked it, and our wallets could not handle us going out all the time. So I'd throw on a couple CDs and we'd do homework, talk, dance, make out... whatever.

            The bed, he liked. I couldn't imagine why, although I liked it. We danced there, too.

            We got into a fight one night, I don't even remember what about. It was stupid. I was tired and pissed off about something, and we shouted at each other. I remember I had been drinking. Not a lot, but enough to loosen the tongue. I shouted until my throat hurt, and when I couldn't do that, I punched him.

            God, that had been one of the most thrilling, terrifying things ever to happen. He's a lot smaller than me, so he just went flying. He hit the wall with a sickening thud and didn't get up for awhile. I almost called the hospital, but he woke up, and my name was the first thing he said. He wasn't mad. I apologized as much as I could, but he had forgiven me before I did that.

            The next time it happened, though... I never expected him to come back and hit me. It hurt like hell, and I couldn't open my left eye for two days. He kissed me again after that fight and told me he was leaving. What's more, he said he wasn't coming back.

            I'll admit it. I cried. I sobbed and whimpered like a little baby, trying to get him to stay.

            It was hell on earth, those two months we separated. He ignored me completely, dating some girl named Yukishiro. I wanted to hurt someone every time I saw those two walking around, hand-in-hand all sweetheart like. I hated him for awhile. After awhile, I figured it out, that I didn't hate him... I was frickin' jealous. Me. Of some wimpy girl. But it just burned me when we'd run into each other. He'd smile and say 'hi' and walk on by like I was nobody. The bastard.

            Then, I heard he broke up with the girl. I took a chance and called him. He accepted my invitation and came over, just to talk.

            She wasn't strong enough for him. Well, that was what I'd got out of it. He just said she couldn't handle how he did things, how his preferences ran. She found another guy and was going out with him now. Akira something. He had never slept with another guy. Kenshin seemed bitter about that.

            I asked him to dance again, and we did. We danced through my messy room, then danced on the bed. He said he'd never leave, and I cried again. I swore to myself I'd never give him a reason to go back on that.

            We're moving into his place next week. I think about that as we lay together on the bed. I don't want to leave the room completely. There's so much here. But the most important thing is sprawled over my chest, humming something I don't recognize. If it makes him happy, then I don't care. No matter what he put me through, I never regretted asking him out.

            He's looking around, studying the pictures on my wall. I wonder what he's thinking.

            "Kenshin, what're you thinking about?"

            He smiles and looks at me.

            "About you."

            Uh oh. I smirk.

            "Nothing bad, I hope."

            "Not too bad."

            Ouch. He's a sly one.

            "That doesn't bode well."

            "The bed's coming to my apartment," He leaned down and met my lips. Oh, he's good at that. I smiled, content as can be. It's nice to have this. He's mine. Mine mine mine. And he knows it. "But we've got to do something about your cleaning habits."

            Shit.

Notes: A rushed and somewhat incomplete version of what promises to be an extraordinarily complex relationship. I could almost make this an outline to a complete story. But I feel that would take away from the companion piece to this story, so I likely will not do that. Anyhoo, tell me if you liked it, hated it... whatever.

~Fitz