AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this side story for "Spirit of Fire" several years ago but never posted it at this site because I didn't want to raise the rating of the main story. However, I recently reread it and thought "SOF" fans might really enjoy it, so I decided to post it as a separate one-shot. Needless to say, you probably want to be familiar with "Spirit of Fire" before reading for the best experience, although I suppose it's not absolutely necessary as long as you know Keitaro and Takara are Rei's parents. This fic takes place a few weeks after Ch. 2 of "SOF". Hope you like it!

Consummation

It had been another late night at the office for Hino Keitaro. As he pulled out his house keys and unlocked the front door, he let out a weary sigh. He didn't mind the long hours – he usually thrived on them, in fact - but they left him very little time to spend with his new wife, who was most likely already asleep.

"I'm home," he called out to nobody in particular, not expecting anyone to answer back.

However, as he slipped off his loafers, light footsteps bounded down the staircase. He glanced up, surprised to see Takara up and about. Meeting him at the door, she threw herself into his arms and kissed him full on the lips.

"Welcome home, Keitaro!"

"Takara?" Frowning, he held her at arm's length. "What are you doing out of bed? You know you're still in recovery." Takara, who had been born with a weak heart, had suffered a heart attack the night of their elopement.

"Not anymore," she said with a bright smile. "I had an appointment with Sakamoto-sensei this morning. He told me I was well enough to start resuming normal activities, including…well…" Her pale cheeks turned a light shade of pink as Takara began unbuttoning her dress.

His eyes went wide. "Takara!" Keitaro stepped in front of her, using his jacket to shield her from anybody who might walk in on the scene. "What are you doing? What if Yukana-san sees us?"

"There's no need to worry. We're the only ones here. I gave her the night off so that we could have some privacy."

"Still, this isn't the appropriate place to do this." Keitaro took her by the hand and started leading her back toward the staircase. "Let's go upstairs."

"Wait."

He glanced back at her. "What's wrong?"

"Um… Will you carry me up the stairs?" she asked.

"Why? Are you not feeling strong enough to climb them?" Keitaro released his grasp on her hand, concerned. "If not, then maybe we shouldn't do -"

She shook her head. "I just want to pretend tonight is our wedding night, since the first one was ruined. It's tradition, isn't it? For the groom to carry his virgin bride over the threshold and to the bedroom?"

"Yes, I suppose it is," he said. Keitaro picked Takara up, bridal-style, and began carrying her up the staircase.

"I'm not too heavy, am I?" she asked, her arms wrapped securely around his neck.

He smiled. "No, not at all."

Actually, to be honest, he wished she was a little heavier. He judged that Takara had lost about ten pounds since their ill-fated wedding night, due to a loss of appetite after her heart attack. Keitaro didn't consider himself especially strong, yet he had little problem carrying her up the long flight of stairs and to the master bedroom. There, he gently set her down on the queen-sized bed and joined her.

Caressing her cheek, he asked, "Are you sure you really feel up to this? We don't have to do it tonight if you're not ready."

"No, I want to." Takara pulled off his jacket as she kissed him again. "Make love to me, Keitaro," she said in a low voice he had never heard her use before. "I want to be your wife in more than just name. I want to be yours, completely."

"Okay."

After taking off his reading glasses and placing them on the bedside table, Keitaro took her face in between his hands and began kissing her back - softly at first, but then with growing intensity. He lowered her down to the mattress, careful not to put all his weight on her fragile body as he took the dominant position, and continued kissing her until Takara slipped his hand inside her half-unbuttoned dress. Cupping her left breast, he could feel her heart pounding wildly against her heaving ribcage.

"Keitaro?" Her violet eyes stared up at him in confusion when he stopped. "Something wrong?"

"No, I…" He lifted himself off of her. "Uh, I should probably take a bath first," he said, sitting back up. "I've been at work all day."

"I don't mind."

Keitaro loosened the silk tie around his neck, which suddenly seemed much too tight. "But I do."

"Then let me draw the ba-"

Takara started to get back up, but he stopped her, squeezing her hand. "You don't have to." Keitaro stood. "Just stay right here. I'll just take a quick shower. I won't be long."

He headed to the Western-style bathroom attached to the master bedroom, where he finished undressing and stepped into the enclosed shower. As the warm water sprayed down on him, Keitaro deeply exhaled.

What was wrong with him? Dr. Sakamoto said it was okay, so there was no reason to hesitate.

But he still couldn't help but be a little nervous. As a man in his early twenties, Takara probably expected him to have at least some experience with sex, but the truth was, it was his first time as well. Girls had always been more Minoru's department; Keitaro never had much of an interest, even on the rare occasions that opportunity presented itself. Now he wished he paid more attention whenever Minoru bragged about his conquests.

He didn't want to disappoint Takara. The both of them had eagerly looked forward to the day when they would finally be able to consummate their marriage. Lying next to her at night, he had dreamed of what it would be like to make love to her, to bring her to the height of ecstasy…

A soft knock on the door, just barely audible over the sound of the running water, interrupted his thoughts.

"Keitaro, are you all right?" Takara asked from outside the door. "You've been in there for a while now."

He reluctantly shut off the faucet, realizing he couldn't hide in there forever. "I'll be out in a minute," he called out.

Keitaro stepped out of the shower stall and dried himself off with a towel, which he then used to wrap around his waist; there was little point in getting dressed again. After taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he reached for the knob and opened the door.

While he was in the shower, his wife had taken it upon herself to dim the lights in the bedroom, the only illumination coming from a few tapered candles she had lit. Takara herself was sitting on the turned-down bed. She had changed out of the dress she wore before into a short, white nightie, worn underneath a sheer robe, and her long black hair flowed free over her shoulders in soft waves.

He sucked in a sharp breath. "Takara…"

"Um, do you like it?" She fiddled with the tied belt of her robe. "I bought it today after Sakamoto-sensei gave me the good news."

Keitaro moved closer to the bed, still staring at her. "You look…"

"Beautiful" seemed too common an adjective to describe what he thought of her, yet even with his extensive vocabulary, no other words came to mind.

She giggled as she sat up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Have I rendered the mighty orator speechless?"

He smiled, feeling relaxed for the first time since he arrived home. Maybe he was putting too much pressure on himself. After all, sex was supposed to be fun, wasn't it?

"You look incredible," he said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I love you, Takara."

"I love you, too."

Keitaro kissed her, his hands moving to untie her belt. He then slid the sleeves of the robe off her shoulders and tossed it aside. Takara placed her palms against his bare chest, her touch feather-light against his skin. She bent down her head and landed a kiss on the area over his heart, which was racing a mild a minute.

Starting near her elbows, Keitaro slowly ran his hands up her arms. Her skin was soft and smooth, like the finest silk. Takara closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. He picked up the hint, trailing his kisses downward. A sigh escaped her lips.

With trembling fingers, he pulled down the spaghetti straps of her nightgown, letting them fall down her slender shoulders. The motion partially bared Takara's small, pert breasts. His mouth continued its southern journey, capturing an exposed nipple between his lips.

Takara's fingers dug into his shoulders as she moaned.

"Keitaro…"

His hands roamed down to her legs. He ran them up her thighs and under her nightgown, expecting to discover a pair of panties. However, all he found was more bare flesh, a fact that made him burn with desire.

Keitaro looked back up at Takara's face, his fingers grasping at the hem of the nightie. "May I?"

Her face flushed, she nodded her consent and raised her arms so that he could pull the nightgown over her head. Takara then lay back down on the bed. Her face was turned to the side, probably feeling self-conscious of her nudity, but she made no attempt to cover herself. She spread her knees in invitation.

Keitaro spent a long moment simply staring at her, taking in the small swell of her breasts and her lean, smooth legs. The towel he wore around his waist dropped to the floor, and he joined her on the bed, situating himself between her legs. Lowering himself over her, he entered her as gently as he could.

Takara cried out, her head whipping back to look up at him. Keitaro, alarmed by her reaction, immediately stopped what he was doing and pulled out.

"Takara, what's wrong?"

Shaking her head, she wiped away her tears with the palms of her hands. "I'm okay. It just hurt a little, that's all."

He frowned, thinking it hurt her more than "just a little". "Maybe we should stop…"

"No, don't. I was surprised, but I think the worse is over. Please, don't stop. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. Keitaro, though hesitant to continue, entered her again. It went the better the second time, although the look on her face suggested it was still uncomfortable for her. He kissed her brow. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's okay."

He averted his eyes from hers. No, it wasn't. He wanted to make her feel good, not to cause her pain. Not when she had already been through so much because of him…

Takara reached up and brushed her hand against his cheek, forcing him to look back down at her. She smiled and said, "Keitaro, I'm fine, really. Keep going."

Doing as she demanded, he pulled the blanket over their bodies and began slowly rocking against her, their eyes locked together. The discomfort on her face eventually faded away, although she still didn't seem to be enjoying herself very much, her gaze soon wandering elsewhere.

"Um… You can go faster, if you want," Takara suggested after a while, taking him by surprise.

"What?"

Her cheeks went pink. "I just thought it might feel good if you tried to go a little faster."

"B-But -"

She brought a finger to his lips, silencing his protest. "I'm not going to break," she said. "Don't feel like you need to hold back on my account. You know I hate it when people treat me with kid gloves."

He began picking up the rhythm of his thrusts. "Is this better?" he asked.

Takara nodded, letting out a soft moan. Encouraged by her response, Keitaro sped up a little more. Not only did Takara seem to finally be enjoying herself, but he liked the faster pace as well. Perhaps a little too well, for Keitaro soon found himself approaching climax. He tried to delay it, unsure if Takara had reached hers yet, but it was too late. With a grunt, he came, his body shuddering in a pleasure he had never known.

"Uh…" He struggled to catch his breath. "Did you like it?"

"Yes, it was nice," she said with a sweet smile. "Thank you."

"No, what I mea-" Keitaro sighed and lowered his head in defeat. Nice? She might as well be describing a pleasant walk on the beach. He climbed off of her and rolled over on his back, running a hand through his still-damp hair. "I'm sorry, Takara."

Takara flipped over on her side, looking down at him in confusion. "Why?"

"I don't think I did it right." He covered his eyes with his hand. "I wanted our first time to be perfect, but I couldn't even satisfy you."

"Look at me." She pulled his hand away from his face, pressing it against her cheek. "Does this look like the face of somebody who is dissatisfied?"

"No," he admitted. She looked happy and somehow even more beautiful than before, if that was possible. "No, but…"

Takara lay her head upon his chest, her ear close to his still-pounding heart. "You were so kind and gentle with me, Keitaro," she said. "I felt how much you loved me. That's all that really matters."

"Still…"

"Don't worry about it." She reached for his hand and entwined her fingers with his. "We have the rest of our lives to learn how to satisfy each other, so there's no need to rush. Let's just enjoy the experience."

"I suppose you're right," he finally agreed, bring the back of her hand to his mouth to kiss it. The ruby solitaire of her wedding ring - she refused to let him buy her a new one to replace the one her friend Miyuki had given her to use during the rushed ceremony - shimmered in the candlelight, and he frowned, remembering the events of that night. "So, you still don't regret it?"

"Regret what?" she yawned, already starting to nod off.

"Not going through with the annulment like your father wanted. Now that we've done this, there's no turning back."

Takara shook her head. "I don't want to turn back." She moved his arm so he was embracing her and smiled. "I'm exactly where I want to be, and this is where I'll stay, until death do we part."

DISCLAIMER: "Sailor Moon" is the property of Naoko Takeuchi.