Fruits Basket, Akito/Shigure, always the villian in this play.
Shigure tries to visit Akito on a regular basis. They were close once-- in many ways, they still are. Shigure knows because despite the various hurts that have come between them, it's still his shoulder Akito cries on, and it's still him that ends up comforting her.
---
This time she was lonely. She didn't say it, and she didn't ask, but the way she grabbed him and gave him a look both pleading and demanding said enough. He wasn't forgiven, far from it, but he was going to make up for some of the pain-- so said her eyes. And he knew equally well that there was no place here for protests, or for words at all. So he kissed her, deeply, and felt her body tense against him and relax, and move to pull him down on top of her.
It was only a moment before clothes were discarded in favor of skin, and he was remembering the feeling of her skin and the way she sighed when he touched the breasts she kept so carefully hidden from everyone else. It was almost funny, he thought-- only around him did she not seem to mind being a woman.
His hands ventured lower, parting her legs, reaching between them. She was already wet; she still felt for him, or she was starved for physical attention, or both. Most likely the latter, though he wasn't sure which of the former was the stronger factor. He would contemplate it later, sometime when he didn't have the privilege of touching her and had only his thoughts to keep him company. As for now, what mattered was the fact that he was stroking her gently, and it was making her writhe with pleasure.
He pressed one finger inside her, eliciting a soft moan. She was quiet-- of course, she wouldn't want anyone to hear, and the walls were thin. He could smile at the fact that he'd gotten that much out of her. He ventured to add another finger, and this time she just looked at him in silence.
Her eyes no longer held anger. For this moment, all the drama had been put aside and there was nothing there but them and the moment and pleasure, and were the look on her face to be given words, it would say nothing more than "please." And it was an unspoken request Shigure was all too happy to obey. He removed his fingers, taking a moment to lick them clean and enjoy her taste before replacing them with his length. His ears picked up another quiet moan, and he smiled.
From there it was a flurry, gentle and loving, but fast and intense. Thought gave way to motion, their bodies moving up and down, pressing together and pulling apart, feeling one another as deeply as possible. She came around him, and that in turn pushed him over the edge. Afterward, they laid there for a long time, just wrapped in each other's arms, and savored the rare moment of everything feeling right.
---
But, in the end, there always comes a time when he has to go home. And as he walks away, Akito's voice follows him, screaming that he doesn't love her, he only visits to humor her, he's horrible, he never wants to stay. And he goes home and writes stories about happy romances and endings that always wind up working out, because in the story of his own life, he seems doomed to always be the villain.