>> Thursday, August 11, 2011
If you are interested in reading this, start here or, even if you're a fan, you'll get confused. Note that the disclaimer and introduction still apply.
Disclaimer: these characters and scenarios are based on the work of Nakamura Yoshiki and I'm just speculating on what might happen later in the story. Nothing more, nothing less. It is not an original work and I will never try to market or profit by it in any way. This is probably closer to "older Teen" 'cause, unlike the manga, there's actual sex.
Turns out, it had been painful, she reflected, but she had every expectation he'd recover.
"Are you alright?" he asked. He had her tucked up against his hard chest which she found inexplicably comfortable. However, from her position, she couldn't see his face. Did he sound worried?
"Hmm?" she answered. "I'm terrific. Unbelievable. I can't think straight yet. How about you?"
"Mmm," he answered cryptically. "I'm hungry. Food's ready, let's eat."
"Food?" she asked, shocked. Someone had come in during them middle of that and brought food? Ryuuji didn't even look fazed as he slid back into his slacks and left his shirt for her. He really did have ice water in his veins. As she knelt at the coffee table, wearing only Ryuuji's shirt and wishing she hadn't yanked off quite so many buttons, she remembered some of the activities the past couple hours and blushed. Not ice water. Not hardly.
The smell of food reminded her stomach that it was empty and she spent the next few minutes scarfing the tasty spread, barely sparing a thought for what she was eating. Red bean rice, what was that all about? As hunger abated, she noticed that Ryuuji was eating more slowly, his focus apparently on her. When she looked up at him, he smiled at her, but warily, and stroked a hand along her short hair. "Did I ever tell you you were beautiful?"
"Me?" she choked, inhaling some of her rice the wrong way. "You think I'm beautiful?"
"Very. I love looking at you, even when you're dressed like a guy. Though I like you dressed as a girl better, as long as everyone knows you're mine. Especially cops and long haired assholes."
Best to ignore that last part. "It's easier to fight as a boy."
"Either way, you're gorgeous."
"Yeah?" she asked, feeling her face heat. Ryuuji looked misty-eyed even. It was a little scary.
He was still stroking her hair, as if she were precious. The man was so slick. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"
"Nah," she said, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.
He didn't smile back, his face rueful. Was Ryuuji blushing? "Did you like it? I should have... I meant to... You felt so good I couldn't stop myself. I just want to make sure you enjoyed it, too." He closed his eyes, then exhaled. "I'd dreamed of it, but I wasn't prepared for it like I thought I was..."
Tsukasa put down her chopsticks. "Enjoy? Enjoy is the wrong word. It was unbelievable, like that moment when you're flying in the middle of a fight and everything is perfectly lined up, everything going as you envisioned. Only more so. I've never felt anything like it. I want to feel it again. We can, can't we?"
Ryuuji choked on his tea. "Yeah," he gasped finally. "Sure. Anytime you'd like."
"And I didn't hurt you?"
"Remind me to trim your nails. Maybe your teeth." He stroked her hair, his voice lowering into a smug purr, "But, I'm great."
"I noticed." Without meaning to, she blurted, "Is it always like that? With everyone?" She bit her lip. Idiot, she had never intended to bring up the women he'd had before.
His answer was immediate and absolute. "Never. Sex has never been like that before with anyone." A touch of smug crept back into his smile. "You're not bothered about the women in my past, are you? They'll never be a threat to you." He kissed the top of her head. "You're the one I want."
"Today." She couldn't help her response, even when he took her hand and tugged her back to her feet, leading her back to the bedroom.
He turned and wrapped himself around her. "Always," he said into her hair. "The one. If you want, I swear I'll never touch another woman. I can't let go like I can with you." His hands slid up and down her back. "I won't settle for less."
She closed her eyes and tightened her arms around him. That was more than she'd expected, an unprecedented offer from someone in his position. When he would have let her go, she yanked him back down and kissed him with all she had. His response was instantaneous. He crushed her body to his own with urgency, his mouth ravishing her own. One hand fisted in her hair while the other roamed her body, his shirt a puddle at her feet again. His hand migrated to the small of her back to keep her pressed against his heat. "I lose my mind when you kiss me," he said when he let finally her go. "I love that you want me, too."
"I do. I'm glad you offered to be faithful. I was afraid I'd have to maim you," she admitted. Truth was truth. She'd want to accept it, but she knew she never could, not after opening herself so completely to him. She couldn't let him share himself like that with someone else, not while she was alive. It meant something that he understood that without her having to tell him.
She fell back on the bed, uncertain how he'd maneuvered her back there. He slid in beside her and hooked his arm back around her waist. "And I'm glad you feel that way," he said with something in his tone that set her alarm bells ringing. "So you'll understand my own position. No one, and I mean no one, touches you like this. I've asked you before if you wanted to be a murderer. You'll be one if you let anyone touch you in any but the most platonic manner."
"You can beat the living hell out of anyone you want, hug your brothers. Maybe shake hands with a friend if you don't stand too close. But, from this moment on, no one touches you like this," he said, stroking his hand over her hair, down her back, down her butt. "No one's lips touch you except mine. And no one marks you but me." His lips brushed her temple as his fingers flicked over places on the back of her neck and her shoulder. She suspected he'd left kiss marks in various places.
"I can agree to that," she said carefully, noting his body had tensed back up. "At least, to never be touched willingly. But if—."
"Either way, he's dead. So bear that in mind." His hands had tangled in her hair and were pulling her head back so he could bury himself in her lips. "I won't kill you even if you were willing," he added after a languorous kiss. "But I will punish you and put you back in your collar."
Her protest, if she would have made one, was lost against his mouth. Probably better for him to not to know she was gratified by his jealousy rather than offended. As if she'd let another man touch her. He wasn't the only one who could take off fingers.
Once again, they were too busy to talk for some considerable time. When they finally rested, the day felt much advanced, though she could only guess in the windowless room. Her head rested on his chest as he lay on his back and stroked her hair. She could never remember feeling so content.
"You're sure I haven't hurt you?"
She snorted. "I feel fantastic though I might be a bit sore tomorrow. Right now, though, I'm so comfortable. I could stay like this forever."
She could feel him react, his body relaxing. Then he chuckled, his evil laugh. "Really? Just what I had in mind myself."
"What do you mean?"
"Stay with me. I'll have your things moved in tomorrow."
"What? Live here? In the same room? You'll rifle through my clothes! Watch me change! Grab me at odd moments!"
He shrugged. "I do that anyway. It will just be more efficient if you're already here, if you're always where I am."
She lifted her head to look at him, seeing not a calculating face or even a teasing one, but an earnest face, a tender one. "I want to hold you when I sleep," he said simply.
She dropped her head back and sighed. "You're so sly, damn it. So sly." She kissed him lightly. "No limiting the hot water. And I pick my own underwear." She fell asleep in the arms she loved most before he'd stopped laughing.