Katy (leviathanmirror) wrote in forsakengardens, @ 2009-06-15 22:51:00 |
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Current mood: | tired |
Fiction Post #7
More springkink prompts. The bonus crackfic comes from my first thought upon reading the Peace in the Aftermath prompt was, "Wow, I bet that would be awkward with Kusanagi's powers. What would the squirrels think?"
Title: Peace in the Aftermath
Author/Artist: leviathanmirror
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sex with a minor, depending.
Prompt: X/1999, Yuzuriha/Kusanagi: sex outdoors - Yuzuriha and Kusanagi go for a hike in the mountains; hijinks ensue
Word count: 970
A/N: This takes place post series and assumes nothing else is horribly destroyed. Taking place after the story, the reader is free to choose how long after the story and thus whether Yuzuriha is a minor or not. Also, borrows a location from the anime.
Mount Mitsumine was not Kusanagi's first choice when he'd ask Yuzuriha if she'd like to go hiking but she'd been so excited at the idea that he hadn't had it in him to suggest anything else.
Now she was walking backwards along the trail, speaking cheerfully with himself or Inuki and whenever he'd tell her to be careful, she'd look up at him smiling and say some variation of "I'm okay."
It still made him uneasy.
"Please, missy, I don't want you getting hurt," he says finally, as they reach a steeper part of the trail.
She looks at him consideringly for a moment, then gives him a sheepish look and turns around, "I'm sorry, Kusanagi-san, I didn't mean to worry you."
"That's right, it's very worrying, if you'd hurt yourself, I would have had to carry you the rest of the way," his tone is light and teasing and she laughs in response.
"You're strong, you would be fine," she returns, "Besides, it would be nice to be carried all of the way up!"
She squeaks in surprise when he grabs her waist and swings her up in his arms.
She cries, "Kusanagi-san! Put me down!" but the words are broken by laughter.
"I thought you wanted to be carried the rest of the way?" he teases.
She hugs herself to him and nuzzles against his shoulder; he's beginning to enjoy the idea of holding her just for the sake of holding her, and not just as a means of teasing, when she says, "But what if you get hurt? If I shouldn't walk backwards then you shouldn't carry me!"
He's very briefly tempted to keep her in his arms anyway but he sets her down with a soft kiss on her forehead and an affectionate, "fair enough."
She's still blushing when she takes his hand and he laces their fingers together, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. He wonders idly, as she leads him along the trail, if she'll always blush whenever they touch. It's an endearing trait, one he's finding himself more and more fond of as their relationship progresses.
**
Three quarters of the way to the shrine and she's tugging him away from the trail, eyes alight with laughter.
"It's this way," she says brightly.
"It?"
She laughs, "that's right. I want to show you something special!"
"Ah, you've been here before?"
"I told you, didn't I?" she says, stopping and smiling up at him in that way she does sometimes; the way that makes his heart ache with longing for her.
"I was born and raised at the Mitsumine Shrine. I've played in these mountains since I was a little girl."
"I don't think you mentioned it," he says, and if he's bothered, he only sounds teasing.
"I'm sorry, I thought I told you!" she's pulling him after her again, deeper into the mountains, "I asked you to come out here thinking I'd told you…"
"It's really not a problem, is it, missy?" She doesn't really like secrets in their relationship, he can't her blame considering how they started out.
"I…well, no. I just thought I'd told you about it," she says, blushing again.
"So what's this something special of yours?" he asks after a few moments of walking in quiet.
"It's a surprise!" she stops, smiling in that way again, "But if you really want to know, I'll tell you."
"No, it's fine." He knows he's smiling but he doesn't know what she sees in his expression that makes her get up on her tiptoes, blushing furiously, to press a kiss to his lips. Maybe it's the same thing he sees in her when she smiles like she does for him.
Fingers brushing over one of her flushed cheeks, he pulls her into another kiss.
She's still up on tiptoe, fingers in his hair, blush burning bright on her cheeks, "Do you think…I mean…there's time, if we stay at the shrine. We could…get sidetracked."
He laughs, a soft, warm sound as he leans down to kiss her again, "Yeah, we could."
He drapes his thick jacket over her, protecting her from dirt and grime and from scratches and cuts from the verdure; she twines her body with his, embracing him with arms and with legs.
He is insistently gentle; she leaves unintentional bruises in her passion.
He whispers her name, prayer-like in it's repetition; she cries out, high and wordless.
When it's over he holds her steady while she lays tender kisses on all the places she held too hard or scraped teeth against too sharply.
They finally notice that Inuki is nowhere to be found.
**
Hands clasped tight again, she leads him carefully through the mountains. The teasing and light conversation replaced with a tired, pleased quiet. He can hear water rushing in its place.
Inuki, having returned when his mistress called to him, pads across the air between them, restless.
There is still a light flush to her skin, every time she looks at him it's with that same sweet smile, there's something shy and something gentle in her demeanor tempering her usual energy. He's never actually used the term glowing to describe someone before, but he can't think of a better word for her now.
He'd already guessed that her special place would be a waterfall from the sound of the water. He couldn't have guessed at how beautiful it would be or how little of it he would remember as she led him to the shrine some time later.
He would remember her, damp with the spray of the water, still surrounded by that air of gentleness, flushed and smiling. He would remember that for a long, long time.
**
The next time he asks her if she'd like to go hiking, he's the one who suggests Mount Mitsumine.
BONUS CRACKFIC
The first sign Kusanagi gets that this little excursion isn't going to go as planned are the trees. There is a murmuring of confusion, of them asking him and each other what that noise is.
Yuzuriha makes another mewling sound as he presses into through their clothes and he can almost ignore the whispers of confused plants around him.
Except maybe the one he's got her pressed up against, that one isn't whispering. It's weeping at being defiled. Kusanagi thinks this is very dramatic of it, considering they haven't even started removing clothing yet.
Still, Yuzuriha is loud and makes sounds he actually likes hearing so he does his best to lose himself in that and not listen to the confusion or weeping.
A squirrel somewhere above them says, "Look Yuzuriha's finally brought home a mate!"
There's a rustling above that tells him there are more squirrels coming to watch. He starts a desperate mantra of "ignore it" in his head knowing it won't save him. Squirrels never shut up.
At least he's used to voyeuristic animals between his abilities and Inuki being around all the damn time.
"Ha! It only took fourteen years! Oldest unmated squirrel in the universe."
He tries to ignore the disturbing idea of sleeping with a squirrel by focusing on Yuzuriha's nimble little fingers. It's a delightful distraction until they start again.
"That bear is her mate? Didn't anyone ever teach her that squirrels don't mate with bears?"
Yuzuriha moaning his name recaptures his attention. He kisses her desperately, trying to shut out the sound.
"A bear? Is that why it looks like he's trying to eat her?"
He flinches and Yuzuriha looks up at him concerned. He tells her it's nothing, determined to ignore the chattering coming from the branches above them, and resumes their kiss.
"You're doing it wrong, Mister Bear."
Kusanagi growls at that. He is not doing it wrong, they haven't even gotten to that part. Not even Yuzuriha's mewling sounds can distract him from the blow to his pride though.
A squirrel just told him he was inadequate.
"Squirrels mate from behind, Mister Bear. I thought bears did, too."
The mental image of Yuzuriha that accompanies that bit of obnoxiousness helps, some. He tries to hold onto it. Her fingers sliding under his shirt help, too.
"They do. Trust Yuzuriha to come home with a mate that doesn't know how to mate."
Kusanagi's fingers go still on Yuzuriha's hips. She asks if he's all right, apparently noticing the unusual twitching of his left eye.
"I'm sorry, missy. This just isn't going to happen."
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No. It's," he feels like a moron saying this even to someone who knows about his abilities, "it's the squirrels."
"The squirrels?" She asks, somewhere between confusion and laughter.
"They're watching. They won't stop…commenting."
She laughs at him. Then she leads him back to the shrine, still laughing, and tells him she'll pick somewhere indoors next time.
He hopes she doesn't mean the shrine. He thinks having her grandmother walk in would be worse than squirrels.
Title: Steps and Measures
Author/Artist: leviathanmirror
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex with a minor.
Prompt: X/1999, Kusanagi/Yuzuriha: First time sex - "It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine"
Word count: 4,941
A/N: This totally got away from me.
Thanks to my beloved tainted4life for the title and betaing.
One thing he's learned since meeting her, is that waiting for Yuzuriha is sort of like waiting for the sun to come up. The dark isn't bad but the sun just makes you feel happier and the more you anticipate its arrival, the longer it seems to take. At the moment, he's waiting to take her to get ice cream. He'd called her and invited her out three days after he last saw her. He's been conflicted since she was hurt, more so since she confessed her feelings to him; he still wants to see her.
This is the first time he'll have seen her after she told him she liked (loved?) him, there's a tension in his muscles and a faint tingling sensation in his gut that he never used to get before seeing her. He likes the feeling even if he isn't sure he likes what it means.
He's surprised when he does see her coming around the corner, rushing to him and waving spiritedly. He waves back more sedately, taking in her appearance and walking towards her at a less impatient pace.
He recognizes Inuki immediately. A puppy, true, but there is no mistaking the inugami hovering around her shoulders and wagging its tail. He's happy for her and happy to see the inugami again. He doesn't linger on the thought that the puppy was probably born to fight, whatever happened, happened; he's more than content just to see them both alive and cheerful.
They're close enough to each other now that she can call out to him without raising her voice too much and she does, her voice carries a faint note of exhaustion under the layers of inherent excitement and joy. He feels the first twinges of concern since hearing her voice over the phone.
She's also close enough for him to see her clearly.
She looks like she's been in a fight recently. There are healing bruises on her face and arms, a bit of slipping gauze and a plain white bandage are wrapped around her right ankle. She's favoring the leg, just a little but it's enough to worry him.
He notices, too, that she's wearing the pale pink and white outfit he gave her when she left the hospital. He's contemplating how ridiculous it is that he can't stop feeling a little thrilled that she's wearing something he gave her as she runs up to him.
When she looks up at him it's with a soft blush spreading over her cheeks and down her neck, lips curving into a shy, sweet smile, her eyes half lidded so that her long, dark lashes nearly brush her coloring cheeks.
She's apparently run most of the distance and she greets him a little breathlessly; her "Good evening, Kusanagi-san," hardly more than an exhalation.
The sight of her makes him uncomfortable. Or maybe too comfortable. They're equally dangerous, in their own ways.
She's fourteen. She's a Dragon of Heaven. He shouldn't be in love with her.
But every time he sees her, it gets a little harder to pretend he isn't and a lot harder not to be.
"Good evening," he says, smiling because the only other option is to walk away and he already knows he can't, "You look a little banged up, missy. Are you okay?"
She brings one of her small hands to her bruised cheek, as if she's surprised to find herself still injured. Her blush darkening, she says,"O-oh. Yes, I'm fine."
"More importantly," she starts excitedly, and he holds his hand out to Inuki in greeting, the little inugami's tail wags so hard its whole body wiggles with it.
"His name is Inuki." Her voice is soft, her eyes bright.
Expression tender, he introduces himself to the puppy. He is genuinely happy to see Inuki again and not just for Yuzuriha's sake. He had considered Inuki friend, too.
Yuzuriha watches, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. There is a wonderful ache in her chest as Kusanagi speaks to Inuki. This is all she has ever wanted in life, the joy that she could experience it before the end is nearly breathtaking.
It hasn't been a full week since she last saw him but she can't think of a time when she missed him more.
She was afraid at first that things would be different between them; that he would be less friendly or she wouldn't be able to be herself around him but actually seeing him again still smiling so easily at her, hearing his voice still so full warmth and affection, all the fear she felt dissolved.
There's a small part of her, rebellious and in love, that wants to kiss him.
Instead she asks him, "Where are we going?"
"There's a family run ice cream shop not far from here. The truth is, I had a hard time finding somewhere you hadn't tried yet," he tells her, laughing.
"Really? I thought I'd found all the ones in this area," He knows she always tries to go somewhere new, it warms her that he'd go out of his way to find a place she hadn't tried.
He gives her an affectionately amused look and gestures for her to follow. She follows after him, excited, and thinks she might have done something silly like skip if it wouldn't have hurt.
Kusanagi is one of those people who knows a little bit about just about everything. Yuzuriha finds herself grasping for a topic of conversation that she can hold her own in. Not that she doesn't love listening to and learning from him but she wants today to be more significant than that.
More than anything she wants to tell him about Inuki. She knows she can't and she's glad he hasn't asked because she doesn't know how to explain without telling him about the end of the world.
She wants him to know more about her but she can't tell him anything important.
They end up walking the entire distance without saying a word. She wonders if it could be consider significant that the silence between them is the comfortable kind she finds herself sharing with the other Dragons of Heaven on occasion, when there is really nothing to be said but they still want to be near each other.
"Wait here for a bit, missy," he tells her outside the shop. She happily obliges, knowing even if he didn't ask what she wants that he'd get her something she would like. He likes to tease her that her favorite flavor of ice cream is the second thing he learned about her.
"What do you think, Inuki?" Inuki wags his tail happily in response, there are people on the street looking at her oddly but she opens her arms for Inuki anyway.
"I think he's wonderful, too," she hugs him tightly to her, her Inuki. The people around her begin to whisper but this is nothing new to her, she stopped worrying about it a long time ago.
"Missy," and he sounds a little hesitant, like he feels bad about taking her attention from Inuki, "here."
She accepts the ice cream with a cheerful thank you and the quiet is broken. She doesn't want him to ever feel hesitant with her, she doesn't see him as an outsider where Inuki is concerned. So she tells him all she can, she skirts around the issue of Inuki's return but she tells him everything else, from Inuki's new propensity for chewing to his developing rivalry with Sorata (who she doesn't name) to his love for walking several feet above the ground.
Some time during the litany, as she walked along side Kusanagi sort of following wherever he was sort of leading, Inuki perched himself on Kusanagi's shoulder. She lets herself become distracted with the scene, trying to memorize every little detail.
Inuki whines, darts from Kusanagi's shoulder towards Yuzuriha but he doesn't make it in time. Someone steps heavily on her wounded ankle, pain sweeps up her entire leg, her breath hisses out through her teeth and she bites down on her lip to avoid crying out.
"I'm so, so sorry," someone is saying but she's sort of looking through them, so she can't really tell what kind of person it is.
"It's fine, really. It's my fault, too, for being careless," she tells them, even though it hurts and she can feel blood flowing from the wound again.
This conversation repeats itself three more times before the woman, she can tell now because she's adjusted and the sharpest part of the pain has faded, continues on her way.
She picks up the dirty bandage and gauze with a sigh and looks around for somewhere to throw it away. Kusanagi-san is going to worry about this, she thinks, and she feels like she ruined what little time they'd have had together.
Kusanagi takes it from her to dispose of. "Stay here, missy, you're bleeding."
It's worse than he initially suspected it was and bleeding a lot for what it is, "We should get that cleaned up. I don't suppose you have any friends near here? The base and your school are a long ways off."
"My old apartment is nearer than either of those. I still have the key. It's this way."
For some time they walk in a silence utterly unlike the comfortable one of the walk to the ice cream shop. He knows they're both thinking the same thing. Being related to the end of the world, either of them could cover the distance quickly enough but neither of them can say anything.
The secrets they're keeping make it hard to speak at all. It's harder, he thinks, to be dishonest when you care so much about the person you're lying to.
"It's a little unusual to be able to keep an apartment you don't use," it's said with as much lightheartedness he can manage.
"I didn't know I'd be moving, so I paid for several months in advance. When I left, Imonoyama-san talked to the landlord about my keeping the apartment. He said I should keep it in case of emergency."
"Were you only planning on being in Tokyo a few months?" The conversion isn't as light as he was hoping it would be. He knows very well that plans past the end of the year would be meaningless to either of them. To anyone, really, but worse for those who knew.
She doesn't answer right away, she's focused on unlocking the door she stopped in front of.
"I didn't know how long I'd be here," she says finally, voice unusually thin sounding, and opens the door, waiting for him to go through.
It's a typically tiny apartment, surprisingly clean in spite of its disuse. The only piece of furniture is a western style bed covered in plain white sheets. The lights work but they hardly make the room brighter.
"I still don't know how long I'll be here," she says, and her voice sounds small and tired. He knows she is talking about the Final Battle, about her own very likely death and it hurts to her hear voice weary with knowledge.
Apparently, she sees him glancing around the room as he's wondering if there is anything to patch up her ankle with. He wishes he could find some way to patch up her heart.
"There's a first aid kit in the kitchen," she tells him, wringing her hands.
He has her sit on the corner of the small bed while he goes to get it. She obeys, still looking down at her feet.
He finds the kit on the counter next to the sink; he opens it, making sure there is still antiseptic, gauze, and bandages in it. A brief search of the kitchen finds him a terrycloth towel that he wets with cold water; he's grateful that there is still running water. He heads back to the bedroom, she looks up when he comes in and her eyes follow him as he kneels at her feet to clean the cut.
She flinches, tensing at his touch.
"Kusanagi-san?" Her voice is still just a whisper lined sharply with hurt, but there's something else in it now, something warm and worried.
He looks up from applying the antiseptic, face concerned and questioning, "I'm sorry, missy. Does this hurt?"
"No. Well, it stings a little but… I. I was going to ask… is there anything you regret?" She's blushing, still wringing her hands but there's more of the familiar liveliness in her eyes.
"Everyone has some regrets," he says softly, then amused, "I regret not getting any wagashi the last time I was in Kyoto."
She laughs softly with him and he's glad to hear the sound but she's still worryingly tense.
"Mm. But what I mean is… has there ever been anything you'd wish you'd done and realized, even as you didn't, that you would never have another chance?"
He ties off the gauze around her ankle, firm but not painfully tight. He does have those regrets and he knows that right now, sitting here alone with her in the dark little apartment, that he could very well add another to his list.
She laughs a little, sheepishly, and he can hear the tears in her voice, "I'm sorry, Kusanagi-san. That was a weird thing to say, wasn't it?"
"No, not at all," he murmurs, and leans up to kiss her.
She smiles faintly against his lips, fingers curling in his hair. He can feel the warmth from her cheeks when he pushes her knees apart so he can kneel between them and she slides forward on the bed to press up against him.
He laughs when she pulls away, saying, "I was just thinking I should have gotten you a longer skirt but I think I like the short one."
"Kusanagi-san!" She's blushing furiously as she says it but her eyes are laughing and she isn't deterred from kissing the corner of his mouth.
"I'm going to kiss you again, is that all right?" He's sure of her answer but he still wants to be certain she knows she has the option to back out at any time.
She nods, blushing, and says, "You don't need to ask permission. Not for anything."
He understands what she's trying to say. If he lets this continue it won't end with harmless flirting or kissing. He hopes that she genuinely wants more, admitting to himself that he doesn't want to stop at harmless.
"Kamui" visited him after Yuzuriha left and asked him how she was doing. His parting words were, "She's more than she gets credit for." Two things had occurred to him then, one was that "Kamui" had been near her. He'd spent the time between seeing "Kamui" and hearing Yuzuriha's voice feeling like he couldn't breathe. The other was that "Kamui" had acknowledged her and "Kamui" didn't lie, there was no need. The truth was always so much harder to know.
The truth is that he didn't say the words 'I see you as a child' himself when she'd confessed to him because he doesn't.
"Fair enough, but you have to tell me if you don't like something," he responds, and waits for her agreement before he pulls her down to kiss her again; she parts her lips for him, immediately inviting.
Her fingers wander curiously over his shoulders as he kisses her. Her hands explore anything easily within reach, softly brushing over the back of his neck, his collar bones; delicately tracing his throat, his jaw, his cheek and returning to his shoulders to slide down his back. She tugs insistently at his over shirt, pulling and pushing until he helps her remove it.
"The other one, too," she tells him breathlessly when they part.
He does as she asks, pulling the undershirt over his head and tossing it aside. She doesn't blush this time. She's looking at him intently, dark eyes full of desire, lips slightly parted.
She slides off the bed into his lap, making a mewling noise as she presses against him, hips rocking back and forth in an instinctive need to increase the friction between them. He gasps, involuntarily rocking into her as he hardens.
"Shh," he whispers near her ear, hands holding her steady. He wants to let her continue in the worst way but more than that, he doesn't want this to be just getting off on the floor beside the bed.
So softly he barely feels it, she kisses his neck, "I'm sorry, was that wrong?"
"It wasn't wrong," he says, as she kisses across the path she'd followed with her hands before. Shoulders, collar bone, and then down over his chest, tongue flicking experimentally over one of his nipples. He exhales hard, "Not wrong but it will be better if we wait."
Her hands are exploring his back, tracing meaningless designs on his skin. "Mm, I've heard that but it feels so good…"
He laughs warmly, his own hands sliding under her shirt, "It does, doesn't it?"
She makes a sound that could be agreement or encouragement, mouth once again tasting his skin.
"No bra, missy?" he half moans, fingers brushing over her nipples, teasing them into hardness.
She gasps, leaning into his touch, fingers digging into his back. Her hips are moving softly against his again but he doesn't stop her this time, one hand still occupied with her small, pert breasts.
The other is pulling the pink shirt he gave her up, she raises her arms over her head so he can take it off, lips curving up into an embarrassed smile, "I don't really need one."
She hugs herself to him once her shirt is off, nuzzling against his neck. He strokes her back, soothingly sweeping big, warm hands over her skin.
"Do you want to stop?"
"No," her fingers slip gently down his back to his hips, "It's just a little embarrassing…"
"It can be that way the first time," she can hear the smile in his voice, "but you have nothing to be embarrassed about."
She sits up, resting her weight on her legs, delicate flush spreading over her cheeks and down her neck. If the weight on her ankle hurts, she doesn't show it.
He leans into her, kisses the dip at the base of her throat, "Absolutely nothing," he whispers against her skin.
And then he's standing up, arms wrapped firmly around her, her legs automatically wrapping around him to support herself, "I didn't really expect to spend so much time on the floor," he says, laughing.
She laughs with him as he kneels on the bed, her legs still around his waist. He lays her down on the ivory sheets and she smiles up at him, a tender look in her eyes.
He kneels over her, leaning down press a soft kiss to her lips, fingers of the hand he isn't supporting himself with hooking in the waistbands of both her skirt and panties. She raises her hips, then her legs, lets him pull the garments off her, careful of the bandage still managing to cling to her ankle. He'll need to fix that later.
Her pale skin is flushed, damp enough with sweat to make it gleam where the light touches it; her body long and lean, the curves of her breasts and hips slight but perfectly suited to her slender form. Her lips are kiss swollen, her brown eyes gentle with love and trust, made just a bit sharp with want.
"Nothing to be embarrassed about," he says softly, lips trailing down from her jaw to one pink nipple, he licks at the skin around it, presses another kiss there, then to her stomach, her hip; he follows gentle contours and covers expanses of skin with his lips, eliciting the occasional quiet sigh or gasp.
His fingers ghost over her hips and abdomen and thighs. He slides one into her slowly, thumb circling her clit. She gasps sharply, arching into his hand.
"You can tell me to stop at any time," he tells her, "anything you don't like, anything that hurts. Just tell me to stop."
She's vocal, making desperate sounding mewling noises or moaning low in her throat. He slips a second finger into her and she partially gasps his name, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the whiteness of the sheets.
She winces when he adds a third finger; he slows down, nearly stops moving until she begins rocking into his hand again. He resumes, pressing his fingers upwards every time he pulls them back, thumb still rubbing against her.
It isn't long until she's calling his name, little fingers grasping hard at the bed, muscles fluttering around his fingers. He kisses her temple lightly, whispering soothingly as she calms down.
She sits up, kisses him softly again on the corner of his mouth, asks, "Aren't you going to undress?"
"Eager for that, huh?" He teases, and she blushes furiously, protesting half heartedly, but he does stand and remove the rest of his clothing.
Her blush deepens as she looks him over, fingers reaching out to touch him. "Kusanagi-san is very beautiful," she says quietly.
He's been called plenty of things in regards to his appearance, some complimentary, some not. Beautiful was never one of those things. He'd never found it fitting either. The quiet reverence in her voice tells him that it is, that she sees him in a way no one else ever has. He wishes he could have more time with her, to learn the world from her perspective.
Her touch is light; she is curious and unafraid. He leans into her small hands, sighing at the careful way her fingers curl around him.
"Yuzuriha," he whispers breathlessly.
Her grips tightens, firmer but not quite past the point of being tentative, his hips jerk involuntarily.
"You've never called me by my name before," she is still touching him as she marvels at this. He struggles against the desire to close his eyes, breath quickening.
There is wonder in her eyes, simple joy in the way she smiles. He doesn't want to look away from her.
"I like how it sounds. Not just because of this but," she pauses, hands leaving his body, "because it's you."
Shyly, she continues, "I love your voice. It's always so warm. It makes me feel warm."
"Yuzuriha," he doesn't know what else to say.
She takes his hand, pulling just enough to make him close the distance between them, "It's okay, you don't have to say anything," he doesn't like the quiet way she says it or the way she kisses him afterward. It sounds like "is that an inconvenience?" and feels like her hands pulling his away from her.
He's a little hurt and a little angry and a little guilty and he isn't going through with this until they understand one another. "Missy," not Yuzuriha, not right now, "tell me why you're doing this."
He's expecting hesitation but there is none, "Because I want to be with you. It's not…I'm not trying to make you like me better or anything cruel like that. I just," she touches his face, lightly cupping her fingers against his cheek, "want to be near Kusanagi-san. As much as I can, as close as I can, as long as I can."
"O-or if you meant this, it's not just because I'll regret it if I don't. I…sometimes you make me feel…" she pauses, blushing furiously, "aroused," she nearly squeaks the word in embarrassment, "and I want you to touch me really badly but…" She doesn't seem to know where to go from there, which is fine with him. He doesn't need her to finish.
"I already love you, missy, how much more would I be able to like you?" he teases, situating himself on the bed, back to the wall, pulling her carefully into his lap, "And sometimes, you do the same to me."
"You said…" Her voice quavers.
"I didn't say anything one way or the other. I wasn't sure it was a good idea then. I'm not sure it's a good idea now but if it will make us both happy, it's good enough."
When she kisses him this time, he can taste the salt of her tears on her lips.
"I'm sorry about needing to stop," she knows she must have let some threads of mischief creep into her voice from the way he looks at her.
She curls her fingers around him, steady and firm, and watches his eyes close. He tenses up and does not rise to meet her; she kisses him, plying at his lips until he parts them and lets her slip her tongue into his mouth, the kiss is awkward and wet. He doesn't seem to be put off by it, hardening further in her hand and moaning into her mouth.
"It's enough," he says, pulling back just enough to speak, "Will your ankle be all right like this?"
"Yes, it should be," it will probably hurt but she's excited at the prospect of being with him and doesn't mind if it does.
And then he's lifting her a little, steadying her and guiding her. It hurts, not as badly as she'd been led to believe it would but enough that she doesn't want to move right away. He rests his head on her shoulder, breathing much harder than he just was.
"Is it okay to move now?" It's still painful but it isn't as bad and she's eager to move, eager to experience, eager to please.
He leans his head back against the wall, hands still on her hips to support her, "Whenever you want, missy."
Slowly, gently, she begins to move, becoming more sure of herself with every movement of her hips, every sigh and moan she coaxes from him. She still takes her time adjusting. He's remarkably patient with her and her experimenting, his hands remain on her hips, touch light and undemanding.
His hands on her hips, thumbs pressing against her belly, guide her until she's leaning away from him; he rolls his hips upwards as she slides down and she cries out at the way it feels. Biting down on her lip, she rides him harder, eyes clenching shut and breathing in short, sharp gasps.
She whimpers when he slides a hand between her legs, she worries that she's hurting him with her grip, then her body begins to feel warm and tingly and tense and she isn't worrying about anything. She rests her head just under his when it's over, leaning into him, feeling comfortable and sleepy.
He pets her hair, kisses her on the forehead, and keeps painfully still as she catches her breath.
She takes his hands, puts them back on her hips and sits up, gripping at his wrists.
"Yuzuriha…"
"Please don't say I don't have to," she raises herself up on shaky legs and slides back down, just as shakily. Again and again she does this, she thinks it isn't really good enough and tries to push herself to go faster even if her legs feel weak.
"Yuzuriha," he says again and this time it's breathy and needy; he takes control, lifting her, bearing her weight more than she does and raising his hips to meet her.
His arms are shaking when he calls her name, arching hard into her. Hers are too, when she leans over to kiss his forehead, the same way he did to her.
She's starting to fall asleep against him when he tells her, voice ever so soft, that they need to move. Blinking sleepily, she slips out of his lap, tempted to curl up and sleep where she is.
"I know you're tired, missy, but I need to look at your ankle," she notices the blood after he says this and realizes belatedly that the cut on her ankle stings awfully.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to do that." He's gotten up and has taken the towel back into the kitchen to wet it again.
"I'm the one who said it would be okay," she responds, getting up to dig spare sheets out of the small closet, "so it's my fault, really."
"I'll accept," and she can hear amusement in his voice as he comes back into the room, "that we are equally to blame."
She smiles as him, that warm feeling she always gets when he does something she really loves, "Yes, we're definitely both at fault."
Equally, she thinks, a decision they both made, together.
He has her sit again as he cleans and re-bandages her ankle. She doesn't flinch or tense up when he touches her this time, his hands on her still makes her skin tingle but it's okay for that to happen now.
He asks her to stand once he's tied off the gauze, wishing there was a chair in the apartment, or somewhere else for her to sit. She protests but he has no intention of letting her change the sheets, and does it himself, unwilling to ask her to sleep on the bloodstained set.
He curls around her, once they're both in bed, holds her close and listens to her breathing even out. They'll need to talk in the morning, about what he is and whether she can forgive him for starting this without being honest with her. But that's hours from now. For the moment, he lets himself enjoy the feel of her in his arms and dream about a future where he can continue to hold her.