Ok. This is my first TMM fanfic. No flames, please! Zakuro's P.O.V.
Ichigo spins it.
But why do I care? I'm only playing cause there's nothing to do. No photo shoots, no commercials, no nothing. And no one else had anything, so they wanted to play. Why they wanted to play spin the bottle, I don't really know.
The bottle spins faster. It better not land on me. Land on Ichigo, or something. Please, just not me. Kish, Pai, Tart, Shirogane. Even Asakasa. Anyone else. Lettuce, Pudding, Minto-
No, scratch that. Not Minto. Please not Minto either.
Wait. Why do I care? Sure, she's my biggest fan, but I don't give a damn about her personal life. She can kiss anyone she wants to kiss, for all I care. But, for some reason...
For some reason...It would really piss me off if she did.
"It's slowing na no da!!" Pudding jams those thoughts out of my head. I focus on the bottle now, hoping destiny would listen to my prayers, and land on someone else.
But destiny never listens, does it?
From the smell of strawberries, I can tell Ichigo is the one blindfolding me. Pudding has to be the one yelling and cheering, and Lettuce is probably the one whimpering. The others stay silent for a while. Then, I feel a gentle push towards the closet. Minto. How can I tell? Anyone but her would just shove me in.
After I walk into it, I hear the door shut. I kneel on the floor, slightly leaning towards the door. I can here Minto, along with everyone else outside is arguing about who they should send in there. Please, be a guy. Listen to me, desti-
No wait, you didn't listen. Okay...God. Please, PLEASE let it be a guy. Any guy. Even the Tart kid. Just not a girl.
The door opens. I straighten myself up as soon as I hear breathing. And, oh God...whimpers. Girlish whimpers.
Come on, think something happy. Happy...Oh. Thank God it doesn't sound like Lettuce.
"We should just get this over with. It's bad enough that you're a girl." I hope that didn't sound too demanding. But, then again, everything I say sounds demanding.
I feel hands on my shoulders now. The breathing gets heavier, and I can actually feel it. I smell something strange. We're probably inches apart now.
Nope, not anymore.
Her lips are pressed against mine. For some reason, I'm tolerating this. Even more, I think...I think...I enjoy it.
Her arms wrap around my neck. She must be enjoying it, too.
This is boring. I have to deepen it. And I guess she wants it as well. Her lips part a little, allowing me to slip my tongue in there. I go swishing about, tasting every sweet spot. She moans a little in my mouth, and that turns me on.
Oh, what's this? She has a flavor? It tastes spicy, but at the same time sweet. So familiar, yet it doesn't register in my head. It should. This is officially my new favorite flavor. It's like the scent I smelled earlier.
I run my fingers through her hair. It seems long. I wonder who it could be.
My hands travel to her shirt. Why am I doing this?! I'm not lesbian!
Wait. Then why am I kissing her?
Oh well, I've gone this far anyway. I started placing small kisses on her lower neck, and my hand slips down to gently her breast, gently squeezing it through the fabric of her shirt. It was enough to make her moan. Oh, how that turned me on! I squeeze her more, and the moans sound like music to my ears until...
"Enough grown-up stuff na no da! Your turn's over!!" How did I not hear the door open?!
She hurries out. I can tell she's embarrassed. Maybe, if she was blushing, I could find out who she was. I remove the blindfold.
Great. Everyone's blushing. How could I tell now?