Faithfully
WC: 1,770
Notes: Set seven years in the future. Inspired by the song "Faithfully" By Journey.
"What a night," Ikuto said, watching his breath fog in the cold. He was standing outside his hotel, enjoying the stinging breathes he took in and the look of the brilliant stars, magnified by the still, wintry air.
It was only moments like these when he truly felt alive.
Or rather, it was only moments like these that he would have felt alive if she had been standing beside him.
Amu, his own savior, stayed too far away to touch. Though she still managed to touch his heart, even over something as electronic as the phone.
He wanted to call her now, tell her that he loved her, but it was too late now, and she would be sleeping.
Ikuto sighed, starting to finally feel the cold seeping through his coat. Some of the orchestra members had dragged him to a local bar. Ikuto had been expecting that he would just sneak away when no one was paying attention, but then the typical fight had to break out and Ikuto had to save his band mate from being wounded.
Ikuto had come out with a couple of scratches on his hands, but nothing vital. He had herded them all out of the bar and laid the threats down if they planned on another bar tomorrow night. Ikuto was sure that they wouldn't listen – they never did – but he wasn't going to be pulled in again.
When the band members all chose to sleep in the buses (just because it was cheaper) but Ikuto enjoyed the simple luxury of a bed, and paid extra expenses to get that luxury.
They were in this town for a couple nights now, and would probably stay a couple more, so the people at the hotel had become acquainted with Ikuto, and they all claimed – or, at least, the girls did – how much they would miss him when he was gone.
He'd smile and say thanks for the affection. Then he would go to bed. Alone.
The woman working the counter tonight smiled at him in a flirtatious way, flipping her hair and arching her back to make her boobs at bit more pronounced.
Ikuto gave her his typical smile - the one that he gave everybody – and then headed up the stairs without another glance back at her. He was sure that he could picture her shocked face, though.
He moved his violin case to his other shoulder so he could get the key card out of his pocket.
"Are you going to invite me in?" A voice behind him asked.
A very familiar voice.
Ikuto spun around to see Amu standing by the top of the stairs. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a white top, which had a low V neckline, and a dark blue jacket. He had given her that jacket a couple years back. Her hair was done up in a luscious mess, kept up by only a couple barrettes. She had miracle hair.
He grinned. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, you said where you were yesterday, and that you would be here for a couple more days, so I thought maybe I should visit." She put her hand by her ear, playing with a stray piece of hair.
She dropped her hand and gripped her purse tighter. "Besides, I had to make sure you weren't bringing home any groupies." She winked.
He left the card in the slot on the door and walked up to her, not taking his eyes off of hers.
His best friend of seven years, his girlfriend of only two, so faithfully devoted to a man of music. He had been counting the days until he would see her again (which would have been her twentieth birthday), and his heart was aflutter with an adrenaline rush of having her so near to him, so suddenly.
He stood close enough to her that he could feel her breath on his skin. She smiled and titled her head down shyly.
"Hi," he said.
She snorted and giggled. "I'm sorry, was I not being proper? Hello to you, too." She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers toying with the long strands of his hair.
"How long have you been waiting here?" He asked.
"I was in the lounge, but you didn't notice me when you walked by." Her fingers ran over his ears.
He leaned in and kissed her ear. "Would you like your birthday present now?" He breathed.
She shuddered under the touch. "Hm? I only want it if it's a ring."
The damn girl was physic, since that truly was her real birthday present.
He took her earlobe between his teeth, trying to make her mind wander away from the ring.
Amu's arms tightened around his neck and she made him move his head so that she could kiss him.
He gently pressed her into the wall. The dark quiet of the halls pulsed around them.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and made her follow him back to his room's door, their kiss not breaking. He clicked the card in and opened the door with the hand that had been around her waist. His violin was becoming a nuisance on his shoulder.
He shut the door behind him, and Amu lifted her head away from his mouth so that she could take in a breath. Her face was flushed and she was breathing heavily.
He set his violin on the floor and pulled his jacket off. Amu sat on the bed and started to pull her dark blue jacket off as well.
"Wait –" he said, touching his hand to hers, which was ready to tear the jacket off. "Let me."
He slowly slipped the jacket off of her, and then he kissed the exposed, but still clothed, shoulder. He moved slowly to her neck, leaving an open-mouth kiss at the base of her throat.
Amu swallowed hard and her hands gripped the sheets of the bed.
He slipped his hands under her shirt and leisurely ran the material up with his hands. He moved them further underneath the material so his fingers could brush against her breasts; they had certainly swelled over the years. He still told her that it wasn't from drinking milk, though.
He let his head fall to the dip of her V neckline, and he ran his tongue down the cutout.
She couldn't stand it anymore, and her hands reached up and grabbed his hair instead of the sheets. He smiled to himself.
He grabbed the hem of her blouse again and pulled up until she was out of the shirt. She was wearing a lacy, black bra, which only made him harder than he already was. Her hands immediately started to work on the buttons of his shirt, pushing it off of his shoulders. He pulled off the undershirt he had on, since layers were the sensible thing in the winter months.
She put her hands against his stomach, moving them against the unyielding flesh.
He pushed her down on the bed and started kissing her again, running his tongue against her lower lip, brushing her teeth and the tip of her tongue.
He reached his hand around her back and unclipped her bra, which was difficult with the clip being between her and the bed. She moved her hands away from his back so that she could shimmy the lacy thing from her arms. He brushed his teeth against the sensitive pink nipple, which was hard under his tongue.
She gripped her hands into his hair again, and pushed his head closer to her chest.
Amu wrapped her legs around his hips, arching until their pelvises touched. He groaned against her breast and lifted his head back to her face, blindly searching for her mouth. Her hands roamed down to his back again as they kissed, her fingertips gently touching spots that she knew made him shudder. She released his mouth so that she could kiss his cheek, then his jaw line, then throat. She kept moving downward, unwrapping her legs from him while doing so.
She kissed his chest, then ran her tongue in a small circle on the spot.
He grabbed her sides and then reversed their positions so that she straddled him; he made her emit a small scream while doing so. Or a high-pitched giggle, he still wasn't sure.
She started kissing his neck when her hands ran against the waistband of his jeans, popping the button.
"Did you perform in this?" She mumbled, noticing the very casual wear for a concert.
He shook his head. "I changed at the bus."
She liked feeling the vibration of his throat against her lips.
He ran his hands over her hips and gripped the back of her thighs. She rolled herself off of him so that she could remove her jeans. Underneath the denim was a pair of matching black lace panties. She started to pull those off, too, but he put his hand on hers, stalling her movements.
He smirked at her as she rolled her eyes.
He bent down and bit the edge of the lacy material between his teeth, ever so slowly dragging them down her legs, then off of her elegant ankles. He dropped them onto the floor.
She was now completely bare in front of him. And was his. All his.
He pulled off his jeans and underwear, and they went to join the other discarded clothes on the floor.
He slowly ran his hands up her smooth belly, and then kissed the nape of her neck.
"I love you," he told her.
Squirming met his remark. "Tell me after," she moaned.
He smiled and resumed kissing her as he positioned himself above her. He slid in slowly, keeping the pace gradual and teasing.
She bit down on his lower lip for him to get the hint.
Even though he still wanted to go slow to keep her in suspense, he was finding he couldn't quite hold on much longer. He picked up to a faster motion, her little moans between their kisses driving him.
She came first, and him soon after.
He dropped to the side of her, so that he didn't crush her petite form under him. She moved to face him, and kissed him on the cheek. "Now you can tell me."
He was momentarily confused, since he still wasn't quite thinking straight.
Then he remembered, "I love you."
She giggled, "I love you, too."
She snuggled up closer against his chest, "Do I get my real birthday present now?"
"No," he said, kissing her scrunched up nose of disappointment. "You'll have to wait."