Cherry Stem
Summary: Sakura Mikan is sure that there is nothing Hyuuga Natsume can't do.
Author's note: Explicit material. Read at your own risk, people. Don't say I didn't warn you.
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Natsume scoffed the moment Mikan traipsed into his room, banged his door shut and plopped herself on his favorite spot on the couch.
Uninvited.
It was a Saturday afternoon he intended for himself and some of the mangas he just purchased when she knocked on his door loudly (which he chose to ignore for a good three minutes), followed by shouts of "Natsume, open up!" "Natsume I know you're in there, no need to pretend!" "Natsume I'll wreck this door if I have to!" and "Natsume if you don't open this I'll tell Ruka you took the porn stashed under his—"
And of course that was good enough for him to scramble towards the door and answer to her, but not enough for her to barge in and ruin his planned peaceful Saturday afternoon.
Rolling his eyes upwards and praying to God that he would not lose his patience or composure for the day, he pinched the bridge of his nose and walked towards her with his hands in his pockets. Oblivious of the annoyance etched on his face or the downward turn of his lips, she pulled out a small box from her bag, shoved the mangas on top off his coffee table until they were perched by the edge of it (Natsume's eye twitched) and opened the box.
As much as he didn't want to involve himself in a conversation with her or any other interaction that would make her ramble non-stop, he asked her still, eyes narrowing at the content of the box. "Cherries?" He never took her as the cherry type of person. He noticed that she always carried a strawberry-flavored lip gloss in her bag ever since she turned twelve and doubted that she ever bought another flavor.
"Sumire and Anna decided to go to that mini-farm in Central Town. You know the—"
"I know." He cut off rudely, slouching on the left side of the couch with a frown. The seat was too stiff and the arm rest was too hard for his neck. He glanced at her and hissed as she put her shoe-cladded feet up, and laid down on one of his throw pillows.
"Take your shoes off, you idiot." He snapped, slapping her right foot none-too-gently. She made a noise of protest and put her feet down with a grumble.
He reached for one of the mangas by the edge of the table and moved them to the center before he made himself comfortable in his seat and leisurely read its contents. He frowned at the announcement of Naruto's latest release, which was still three weeks from now and mentally told himself to call the Central Town's only manga store to reserve one copy—or five just to spite everyone else waiting for it. Especially Koko who does not believe in reservation, thus resorting to lining up at the bookstore only to be trampled by other Otakus and not being able to get into the cut-off. Noticing that he felt a smirk on his lips as he planned diabolically, he glanced at his companion and wiped the smirk off when she glanced at him. He stuck his tongue out at her and flipped to the next page, ignoring her whines about him being childish and that she didn't do anything wrong for him to stick out his tongue at her, in which he promptly replied that he had every right because, "You are not supposed to be here and you are unwelcome. Now, if you don't want me sticking my tongue out at you, leave. I really could use some privacy and be rid of your displeasing presence."
"So that what," She argued with a sniff, "you can wank off toyour hentai manga?"
Not getting fazed, he met her accusation dead-on and sneered, "What I do is none of your business, if you don't want me to start wanking off I suggest that you leave."
"I know you won't wank off in front off me."
"Why don't you try me?"
"Why don't you just ignore me then?!"
"Why aren't you in your own room? Or bothering Imai?"
"My room is a mess, and Hotaru—well, you know Hotaru." She frowned to herself and started prodding the cherries in the box. She sighed and bit her lip, "I'm sorry, okay? I thought that you wouldn't get angry." She finished with a small voice. He rolled his eyes and groaned, always pulling that card when everyone else is getting angry at her.
"It's fine. Just don't talk, or disturb me." Regretting what he said after the words poured out of his mouth, she stated bouncing up and down on the couch, giggling like a maniac. "Stop. That." She stilled and grinned at him.
"You're the best, Natsume! Here, have some. My peace offering. And don't worry, they're freshly picked!" She offered him the box full of fat, blood-red cherries.
"No."
"Come on, Ruka told me you like them." She nudged his arm using the box and batted her eyelashes.
Natsume eyed the ripe cherry dangling in front of him wearily and scanned the page of his manga again "That's not even true." He snorted, annoyed at whatever information Ruka had been feeding the idiot. Not minding or pretending not to mind what he said, she waved the cherry in front of him like a dog treat. Finally getting on his nerves, he growled, threw her a glower good enough to send a first year scrambling away, and smirked when she stopped with a pout. Moments later, however, through the corner of his eyes he saw a cherry wiggling. Persistent as always, she continued waving the treat in front of him like a dog and urged him on. Giving her one of his deadly stares, and knowing that she won't stop pestering him until he took one, he slammed his manga down on the space between them and opened his mouth reluctantly, taking the cherry in with a pop as the stem snapped free.
"Happy now?" He asked her, munching on the juicy treat inside his mouth. Mikan seemed to be pleased. She smiled and settled back on the couch, he rolled his eyes. He knew that she was thinking smugly about making him decide otherwise. He was about to continue reading when she did the weirdest thing:
Popped the stem into her mouth.
He almost spat out the remnants of the so-called cherry in his mouth. "What the hell, Polka?"
She turned towards him with a bewildered look on her face, her pink lips were shut tight and her jaw was moving from time to time. "Hmmm?"
"Last time I checked, it's the fruit you're supposed to eat not the stem. But of course, what am I supposed to expect from you."
Mikan cast a glare towards him, and after grueling moments of watching her jaw slacken, her cheeks hollowing, and her eye twitching, she addressed him, "Haha, very funny." She shut her mouth again and worked on the stem. Frustrated, she hissed and spat the bent and slightly chewed cherry stem out (his eye twitched in annoyance and disgust). "Damn. It just wouldn't."
What wouldn't? Instead he drawled "Give up already" and opened his manga to read the next page, curious of what she is doing—or what she is trying to do.
"Open up!"
He pulled his head back when another cherry bobbed up and down in his line of vision and narrowed his eyes at her. "You eat—" He was cut off when the cherry made its way to his mouth forcibly, Mikan's fingernails clinking on his front teeth without care. Annoyed, he popped the whole thing into his mouth stem included.
"Don't eat the stem you nitwit!" She exclaimed, not minding the annoyed expression on his face and his gritted teeth.
"That's rich coming from you," He snarled, face twisting in disgust as the stem touched his tongue. What he didn't expect was her finger's diving into his mouth, almost choking him. "Wha—Fu—Pol—Stop!" She proudly held the stem in the air, popped the stem in her own mouth and grinned as he massaged his jaw and tested his teeth. She almost knocked his front teeth off with vigor. "What the hell is wrong with you, woman?"
"Just shut up. I'm trying to concentrate here." She grumbled, the stem poking out of her lips.
"Is that the new trend for stupid—ouch! Really!" He stared at her with rounded eyes, so uncharacteristically like him, and hit her shoulder none-too-gently which she ignored.
A few more deflated sighs and screams of almost triumphs from the baka, Natsume finally chucked his manga aside to observe. Only seven cherries were left and Mikan sat there, hands clenched at her sides, eyes scrunched up in fierce concentration, and lips in a thin line of annoyance.
"GAH!" She finally shouted, hands in her hair and another stem found its way to is spotless carpet. "It just wouldn't! It only bends! Why does it have to be so difficult?!"
"What the hell are you doing? Besides messing up my carpet and making me your personal cherry-eating machine."
"Knotting a cherry stem, of course!" She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Urgently she reached for the box and plucked a cherry again.
"And why would you do such thing?" He asked, snatching her wrist to prevent her from shoving another one down his throat.
At this point Mikan swallowed, his eyes fixed on her slender throat, and laughed nervously. "Well?" He prompted.
Mikan bit her lip and he saw a faint blush dust across her cheeks, "I—Uh—you know—"
"Actually I don't, so speak up."
"You know—" She said again, now turning as red as the cherries. "How can you not know?" she asked with disbelief.
He snorted, "Because I've never done such stupid thing."
Mikan stopped picking through the luscious cherries, turned her head sharply towards him with wide eyes and gasped. "W-What?"
He met her gaze imploringly and cocked an eyebrow at her surprised expression. "What?"
"Don't tell me you can't."
Can't what?
"Can't what?" He growled, ego-bruised and anger simmering. "I never said I can't. I said I've never done such stupid thing."
"Which means you haven't tried. Meaning you can't."
"There's a big difference in haven't and can't!"
"But you can't do it when you haven't done it!"
"Fine! What is the blasted thing I have to do before you can say I can't do it? And what makes you think I can't do it?"
"That's also what Sumire said," She muttered to herself. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Nothing. All you have to do is knot the cherry stem. Simple as that."
"Only that? Tsk. No wonder I didn't engage myself in such degrading acts."
"And why is that?"
"Obviously." He snapped. "Because it's stupid. What else am I to gain if I manage to knot that blasted stem?"
"Bragging rights."
"Of?"
"Being able to kiss expertly!"
"Are there even facts supporting that theory?" He demanded.
"Well, if you can work your tongue and make a knot I guess that's enough." She said knowingly, nodding her head in support.
A lascivious smirk made its way on his lips before she finally realized what she had just told him. He was chuckling even before she could open her mouth to take back whatever she said, and huffed. "I'm just telling you what they told me. So if you have nothing to do but—cut that smirk off your face! You look like some perverted—Natsume! Look, I'll just go back knotting and you reading whatever shit that is." She waved her hand dismissively and shoved his manga to his chest.
Two more unsuccessful tries, a wild girl snarling at the cherries sitting in the box, and a loud whine enough to make Natsume chuck a pillow at her (which hit her squarely on the face), she succeeded. Finally, he mused thankfully. Now that she was done, she could leave him alone in the safe and silent confines of his room.
"Ha! Finally!" She squealed, holding the knotted stem in front of her with beaming pride and a wide smile. "Wait 'til I show this to Sumire!"
"Woooh, hooray! Polka is the best! She can knot a goddamned stem," He cheered blandly, "Now, can you please leave me alone. I guess you've finally reached your goal and you no longer need to be in my presence, don't bother cleaning up I'd do it myself, all I want you to do is leave. And lock my door."
"But I still need to finish them—" She gestured towards the remaining cherries (five plump ones).
"Then do so. I don't give a damn about them."
"Are you sure you don't want to try?" She asked him in a tone that he was not liking.
"It's for idiots. I am not going to let that gnarled stem be the one to judge my skills in that category."
"Are you really, really sure? I mean it's pretty easy."
"Right, and it involved how many handfuls just for you to accomplish it."
"But you're Natsume! Of course you can do it better than I do!"
She was goading him into using praises, and he couldn't help but feel annoyed at the same time proud. It was a sure ego boost—but it could also be his downfall if he would be unsuccessful. But what the heck? Polka told him that of course he could do better, after all he is the Hyuuga Natsume. How difficult is it to push the other end of a stem into a loop and thereby knotting it? It would be a piece of cake.
"Fine."
Squealing in victory, Mikan fished one out of the box, popped the cherry into her mouth, broke off the stem and handed it to him. Immediately he worked on the stem, catching it in between his upper and lower teeth he started moving the stem around. Okay, he managed to bend it. Now, just push it in—Okay—now just. Pop!
What the fuck?
He pushed his tongue against it again, why on earth wouldn't it get in?
"Uh, Natsume?"
He shot her a glare, effectively silencing her. He could feel his jaw beginning to ache and himself getting frustrated. Why wouldn't it—SNAP! He spat it out.
She frowned at the stem. "Why is it snapped in half?"
"I don't fucking know."
"So you're giving up?"
"Who said I was giving up? Hand me another." Again, it ended with the stem in half and a very dangerous looking Hyuuga Natsume.
"Maybe we should stop so that you could calm down and—"
"Give me that!" He snarled, taking the stem off her palm with a sharp whoosh in the air.
"You almost swiped my hand with that action."
He ignored her and popped the dreadful thing in his mouth. How could it be so difficult? He knew the theory and the actions needed to be successful, how can he just miss—the—fucking—loop. It broke again.
"Are these stems really brittle?"
"Well, they weren't when I was the one doing the job, but then maybe you're just making exc—"
"Just hand me another."He wasn't going to admit that it was difficult and he was giving up on a blasted thing smaller than him.
Annoyed by her expectant stare and mischievous smile he shut his eyes to concentrate, worked his tongue on the stem and growled every time he missed. What the bloody hell is wrong with these stems, why wouldn't they bend to his will, and enter that goddamned—Oh, oh, almost—his eyes snapped open, and Mikan was looking at him expectantly. Just a little bit—Pop! The end snapped free. Clenching his fists, he spat it out and set it to flames. Mikan let out an outraged gasp and stared at him murderously. "Tied it, didn't want to show you."
"Cheater! You burnt it because you can't do it!"
"Of course I can, I just didn't want to show you!"
"Cheater! Why don't you just accept it? You can't—"
"Give me that."
"What? But—"
"I said, give me that! Now, Polka!"
"Natsume that's the last one—"
"I know."
He broke the cherry off the stem, tossed the fruit into the box and proceeded knotting damned plant part. He knew it was the last one, and he knew that he had to succeed in order to wipe the gloating look off her face. Shutting his eye in concentration, he caught the end of the stem in between his teeth and worked on bending it using his tongue. One, fuck. Damn, close enough. Again. Come on, yes, loop, damn, loop again, push it in, into the hole—almost there—a little bit more—FUCK! It sprang free and he felt a growl vibrating in his throat, his aura turning darker by the second as he felt heat escaping his pores.
"This is bullshit." He finally shouted, spitting the stem out of his mouth to the carpet in disgust and annoyance. Mikan blinked at the discarded stem and looked at him with a gaping mouth before grinning. "It isn't even a big deal." He rationalized, watching her grin spreading into one rivaling a psychopath in televisions after a kill. "Wipe that smile off your face!"
"I never thought a day would come that I can do something that you can't! This feels so great! I can tie a cherry stem and Natsume can't! Oh, you wait until I tell them." She giggled uncontrollably much to his chagrin.
"Shut up."
"Oh don't be a loser, Natsume. It's just a stem." Her grin faltered however when she stared at his mouth, "Does that mean—"
He growled at her, "Watch it. I'll have you know that—"
"That what?" She asked teasingly.
"That that stupid stem cannot determine one's kissing abilities."
"Oh really?" Smug.
He smirked at her and leaned back against the couch, throwing his arm and reaching for a tendril of her auburn hair. "Really."
"Are you sure of that?"
"Are you sure of what you believe in?" He countered back.
"Of course. Like I said, when you are able to knot it, you can kiss exceptionally well."
"Why don't you prove to me your theory then? Scared?" He added once she visibly shifted beside him, her eyes wide and surprised as the tables turned. Slowly, like a predator closing on its prey, Natsume leaned closer to her, placing his hand next to her right leg, and the other finally reaching her nape. He flicked his eyes towards her cherry-juice stained lips, back to her widened eyes, and repeated the action as he closed the distance, slowly, slowly—Mikan turned her head and one of her hands caught his jaw in panic. He laughed breathlessly at the sight of her wide-eyed and oblivious to what was happening. She was almost on her back now, her left elbow keeping her upper body up, while his presence and weight digging on the right side of her body. "Scared, little Mikan?"
"I'm not scared! It's just impro—wait." Her palm made contact with his lips, and he smirked against it. He was almost an inch off her face, a little bit closer to her juice stained lips if her hand didn't interfere. "Really, I'll scream."
"And did that threat of yours ever stop me?" He murmured against her palm, his breath hot and moist. "You can scream all you want, you can even begin now." He darted his tongue out and made contact with her palm, eliciting a combination of squeal and gasp as she withdrew, and lunged.
She was surprised at first and he felt her hands flail wildly before grasping his shoulders as she tumbled on her back with a groan. He caught her upper lip in between his and sucked on it. Never mind chaste kisses, those can wait. All he wants to do is to prove to her that he is a damned good kisser and he does not need that cherry to decide that for himself. He repeated the same motion to her lower lip until her felt her melt against him and respond. He nipped at her lower lip and she responded by nipping his upper ones. She matched him for every stroke, every rub and every suck, not minding if his hand was already cupping her arse and his body grinding against her.
He poured his everything into this kiss. Six years of pent up sexual frustration was poured into this little—well, not so little kiss—no more, no less. She had been a star of his dreams ever since he turned twelve, and had been the object of his obsession and fantasies. Never mind if Ruka and the others considered him whipped when it comes to her, never mind getting shouted at for burning males getting three feet near her or four. Never mind blatantly denying his feelings in front of Imai though he knew that she knew the answer. He was keeping himself on the line, it was improper of him to be too forward and practically lunge at her like some wild animal. He respected her and wanted to treat her right but that was before. And now all he wanted was to claim her. Parting his lips open as an invitation, he encircled her waist with his arm while the other kept its place at her nape pulling her closer. Later on he felt her mouth part slightly. Just slightly, but it was enough invitation for him to trespass her sweet tasting mouth and delve deep.
Her fingers grabbing into his hair for dear life tightened as he cradled her nape to bring her closer, he pushed his tongue past the seam of her lips and felt her shudder beneath him. He slanted his head, and she did the opposite, accommodating his onslaught and finally, her tongue touched his. He groaned at the contact, hers shy and timid, withdrawing every time he tried to rub his against her, while he, on the other hand, aggressive and demanding. In time, hers mated with his in a blatant act of domination, her tongue swiping at him and curling with his every move, her small fists balling at his neck and hair, her lower body rubbing against him in wild abandon. God, he wanted this for so long and now that she was beneath him willing and wanton, all he wanted to do is—
She tore her mouth away from his as she gasped for breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him, her soft breasts pressing against his chest rhythmically. He groaned disappointingly at the lost contact and buried his head in her neck. Shutting his eyes for a brief moment to regain his breath, he thought of Jinno wearing a ballet dress and Narumi tied up begging him to stop burning his shoe collection. He needed to get his wanting feelings at bay and he didn't want to scare her. His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of her hands ghosting on his chest to settle on his sides instead, he watched her flushed cheeks and her fast blinking eyes focus on the box of cherries they have forgotten earlier. Now, what did she think of that theory of hers anyways? He just proved her wrong this time based on her flushed cheeks and breathlessness. He swallowed thickly, tore his eyes from her face and down to her outstretched neck before dipping down to place a soft kiss followed by a little lick on a hollow spot just above her collarbone. She gasped, arched her back, making her abdomen connect with his excited self, thus eliciting a loud and strangled groan from him.
He continued his slow exploration, making sure to mark some of the places where she purred excitedly or rubbed against him. He was running his tongue on the shell of her ear when her arms encircled his waist and pulled him towards her. "Hmmm?" He breathed out against her cheek, making his way closer to her lips every time he lowered his mouth. She wriggled underneath him and pushed herself up using her elbows. He cocked his head to the side, silently musing how beautiful she was with her swollen lips and disheveled hair. And he knew that only he could unhinge her like this, only him. He brushed his lips against hers and pulled away.
She blinked at him and her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. He swallowed a groan and felt a stirring in his crotch. Choosing to be a good guy for the day, he settled his hands on either sides of her hips and settled her into a more comfortable position. One that doesn't involve him brushing against her before leaning in to say, "Well?"
Mikan grinned at him and closed the gap between them, her lips brushing against his as she spoke, "Cherry stem theory be damned. Sumire was right, you really kiss great." She pulled at his nape and brought his mouth on hers with a renewed fervor. Groaning, he matched her every suck, nip, and bite. Later when her tongue was tracing his lips, and exploring every crevice of his mouth leisurely, like mapping him out, and her hands explored his now exposed skin, Natsume smiled.
Maybe he should hand her a lollipop one day and test out one of his.
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END
Author's note: This story was inspired by a theory that if someone could knot a cherry stem, he or she is an exceptional kisser. Of course, curiosity gets better on everyone who wants to know how skilled he or she is in kissing that my friends and I (whenever cherries or cherry-apples are available) tried knotting them using our tongues. Only two of my friends could do it! I hope that this doesn't measure one's ability in the art of kissing because I will seriously, seriously feel bad for myself and the rest of my friends. To make matters worse, one of my friends disclosed in class that she can knot the cherry stem thrice in succession. THRICE. Good lord, that's an amazing talent I would love to have!
So anyone here who could knot a cherry stem? If you can, you're one of the lucky ones.
P.S. I had no time to proofread this so I am so sorry for the grammar mistakes or punctuation mistakes.
Thanks again!
