The standalone M fic I promised to readers of my series And You Don't Seem to Understand.

You can read this with or without the 14th chapter of that story (entitled Findings). It might help clarify and complement this story since the two cover the same scene from two different perspectives. And when I say DIFFERENT, I mean different.

Beware, descriptions of non-sex ahead (it makes sense in the context of the story, I swear!) as well as mentions of porn (LE GASP) and things of that nature.


Things you try to find


Minamoto Kouji did not believe in coincidences. If things happened, they happened for a reason - a stupid reason, maybe, but still a reason. He wasn't the type to ponder his fate for hours on end, but he firmly believed that he had one.

That, he told himself firmly, was the only reason he was curious about the strange blonde girl who had saved his best friend from alcohol poisoning. The fact that he had seen her again not even a week afterwards, at the kendo team tryouts of all places...well, it cemented the idea that she was probably meant to be in his life in some fashion or another.

He just had to figure out the "some fashion or another" part.

Unfortunately, this instinct-driven conviction had driven him to ask the eternally-drunk Matsuda for help. And as everyone knows, this is always a bad idea.

To Matsuda's credit, though, he had Kouji's best interests in mind. After cheerfully informing Kouji that "her name's Orimoto Izumi!" something clicked in Matsuda's crazy head and he started to put two and two together. Then he peered at Kouji suspiciously and asked, "Why do you wanna know?"

"No reason," he replied, shrugging. Obviously, this was the wrong thing to say.

The other student had given him a long, skeptical stare before shaking his head exasperatedly. "Okay, lemme give you a piece of advice - don't even try it."

"...excuse me?"

"Don't even try it, man. She's like - cute and all, but it's like flirting with a tiger. She'd sooner rip your balls off than put out."

He winced at Matsuda's choice of words. "...Oh," he said.

"So don't try it!" The upperclassman shook his finger emphatically. "I mean it!"

"I wasn't planning on...flirting with her," he said, which was only a half-lie. He hadn't been planning on anything at all, actually. That did not mean he was blind to the fact that she was pretty and sharp-witted and quite frankly brilliant with a shinai. He just didn't like pushing his luck.

Matsuda had given him a doubtful grin. "Suuuuure."

"I wasn't," he protested.

Matsuda just snorted and handed him a cup of This-Is-Just-Iced-Tea-I-Swear-It-On-My-Grandpa's-Grave. The last Kouji saw of him, he had his arm around a pretty, blushing brunette girl and they were sneaking off to who knows where.

Minamoto Kouji did not believe in coincidences.

That's why he was not surprised when Orimoto Izumi herself came by only fifteen minutes later, yelling for Matsuda.

Now, he wasn't surprised, but he was convinced that fate had a terrible sense of humor.

The girl in question was paying absolutely no attention to anything but the crowd, so Kouji leaned against the wall and looked at her intently. She was the same as always, blonde and loud and magnetic. It was like his gaze was drawn to her without his consent.

It was the way she moved. She was casually, effortlessly elegant. She always was, especially when she was doing kendo, striking her opponents like a recoiling whip. The image was burned into his memory. It practically haunted him.

Her hair was loose and it fluttered about as she whipped her head from side to side, scanning the crowd. His fingers twitched at the imaginary notion of feeling the blonde strands between them. Quietly, before his thoughts got away from him, he said, "You're not going to find him."

She jumped slightly and her eyes darted to him before lighting up in recognition. She pressed her hair down with her hands and smiled at him, "Er, hi. We meet again?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed evenly. "Orimoto, right?" he lifted his glass in a toasting motion, making sure to keep a proper distance between them.

"I'm sorry," she winced slightly, "I don't actually know your name."

He felt an unreasonable tug of disappointment at that, but his rational mind pushed the feeling away. He hadn't known her name before today, either. "Minamoto Kouji," he told her.

She nodded politely. "Nice to meet you properly, Minamoto."

"Likewise," he said, just as politely. "Also, Matsuda left with some girl a while ago."

She scowled. "Oh. Seriously?"

The thought that she might actually be upset hadn't crossed his mind until now. He mused that it was a sure sign of the apocalypse that he was feeling jealous of Matsuda. "...what did you want him for?"

"Something to drink," she said blankly. "What else does anybody want Matsuda for?"

He couldn't deny that her response filled him with relief. He honestly didn't know what he would have done if she had responded any differently. "Want this?" he offered the cup he was holding. The others in the room had told him it was 'delicious,' and he figured that they would know. The whole container had run out within fifteen minutes, even without Matsuda's help.

She stared at him.

Oh. Right. She was a pretty girl and he was just some random guy she had met twice. Accepting an open drink from him was the crux of bad ideas. "Nobody has touched it," he added, in explanation. "They handed this to me but I don't drink."

"Oh." She shrugged. "Uh, I'll get my own, thanks though."

He wasn't really surprised. She had a good head on her shoulders, and he...kind of liked that. A lot. "Mmm. Heard you made it to the team."

She blinked. "So I DID see you at tryouts!" she cried, pointing at him.

He stared. "...yes, you did," he said, bizarrely glad that at least she noticed. They had been in completely different blocks. He had been looking forward to facing her in the final round but...well, it turned out they didn't have matches between blocks. He remembered the sharp disappointment in his gut when he learned that he wouldn't get to have an official match with her because of the way the stupid tryout system was set up. True, he would probably get to spar with her on a daily basis since they were on the same team now, but a real match was completely different - and in his opinion, much better.

"I'm sorry, I'm just...I thought I saw you but I didn't know it was you, so I..." she rubbed her neck. "It would have been really awkward if I was wrong, so I thought better safe than sorry."

He choked out a soft laugh because the reasoning was just so honest and blunt and her.

"Don't laugh at me," she said, with an actual pout on her face. "I don't like people laughing at me."

"You've laughed at me," he pointed out. "I forgot why. But you HAVE laughed at me. So it's only fair that I get to laugh at you too."

She glared at him.

He swallowed hard - did she even realize that she was indignantly fidgeting with the hem of her shirt and pulling it taut until he could see the curve of her body? He averted his eyes, trying to keep the unaffected smirk on his face. "Well, anyways. I'm not surprised you made the team."

"Really?" Her voice sounded very young and happy and confident. The gentle longing that settled in his gut had absolutely nothing to do with physical desire. He just wanted to keep that smile on her face...he felt oddly possessive of it, actually. She was smiling that way because of something he said and he liked it that way. Not for the first time, he realized that he was dangerously in over his head. He had never...wanted someone like this. Ever. Part of him wanted to hide from the feeling, the other part was drunk on it.

"I saw your first match," he told her, shrugging a bit, "You destroyed your opponent. It was very nicely done." And it WAS. He didn't give compliments like that without being completely sincere. Her fighting style had been elegant and cut-throat in all the best ways.

Strangely, her smile went away, replaced by a soft sigh. "Yeah. I ended up with three losses, though."

He blinked, genuinely surprised. "...you did?"

"Somebody put salt in my water. A LOT of salt."

His eyes narrowed. "Seriously?"

"Mmm." She shrugged tiredly.

He tilted his head, trying to piece together her story. "...and you didn't ask for another water bottle from the staff?" She was quick and logical enough that he was fully expecting an insulted yes, but he had to ask.

"I did. That one was salted too. After that, I ran to the bathroom between matches for tap water." She sighed. "It didn't even help. I kind of choked when I spat out the saltwater. My lungs were burning the rest of the afternoon."

"...ah," he murmured, glancing off into the distance. He remembered his own tryout matches, remembered feeling the shinai give way under the weight of his strikes. His gut had told him something was wrong, but...what was he supposed to DO about it? He had done plenty to spite the cheater by winning all of his matches anyway. Honestly, he was more upset about what had happened to her. She had scraped by with her three losses, but he knew the bitterness of losing when you weren't supposed to.

She stared at him. "...you're not surprised."

Ah. She was perceptive, and he had nothing but respect for people like that. He shook his head slightly. "No, unfortunately, I'm not. The shinai broke in two of my matches. I suspected tampering, but...it's hard to prove. I already have a history of breaking them."

"Right," she gave him a hopeless little grin. "That's what the sports committee said to me, too. That it was too hard to prove."

He scoffed slightly. "Yeah, they're basically useless."

"I just got back from meeting with them, that's why I needed that damn drink." She blinked. "Oh, right. That's what I came for. A drink."

He gave her a deadpan look. "Right."

She flushed. "Shut up. You were distracting me."

Well, good. At least the distraction was mutual, then. Feeling vindicated, he gestured to the crowd. "Go ahead and brave it if you want."

"...'brave' it? It's not a wild animal."

"Hmm. Bet that you'll be knocked down at least...seven times."

She glared at him. "...you're making fun of me for being short, aren't you?"

"Oh, you're not short," he said simply, smirking. "Just small." And it was true. She was light and petite...but oddly enough, she didn't look delicate at all. He liked that.

She huffed. "Okay, fine. You go get me a drink, then. And none of that mixed drink nonsense."

"Yes ma'am," He said mockingly, slipping into the crowd. He couldn't have gotten her any 'mixed drink nonsense' even if he wanted to. The spiked ice tea had all run out - with the exception of what was left in his cup.

"Thanks," she said quietly, when he brought her one of the last cans of beer.

"Mmm." He swirled around the contents of his cup absently, but didn't even sip from it.

She eyed him curiously as she popped the can open. "...so you really don't drink?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I don't. Never got into the habit of it." The absent-minded excuse rattled off his tongue like a bad habit. He shrugged. It was a really long story, and one that was definitely not suited for small talk.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh. Okay." They stood in silence as she took a few long gulps. He was watching her as much as he could without actually watching her. She licked her lips with her small pink tongue after every sip and he would be a damn liar to say that he didn't enjoy the sight. "...why are you in Matsuda's room if you don't drink?" she asked finally.

"Kanbura dragged me."

"Who's...? Wait. Mr. Starchy-Orange-with-Yellow-and-Red?"

He nodded and they shared a knowing, wry look. He told her, "I'm supposed to keep him from doing anything stupid tonight."

"Wow. Good luck?"

He smirked slightly. "I'll need it."

"Heh." Izumi sipped from her beer absently. "Hmmm, why weren't you keeping him from being stupid last time?"

Oh, goddammit. He had been hoping that she wouldn't ask. "Last time? When we met, you mean?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"I...we weren't on good terms at the time."

She raised an eyebrow.

He stared at her and tried not to fidget. "...what?"

"DETAILS," she said, grinning.

"It's nothing you'd want to hear," he muttered, feeling more than a little horrified that she was actually asking.

"Oohh? That's for me to decide. Lay it on me, what happened?"

He glared at her.

Her wide grin didn't even falter. "We-eeell?"

"...okay, first," he looked warily at her, "I'm going to say that it all happened without my consent, okay?"

Her eyebrow went high. "...okay. I am burning with curiosity. What happened?"

"So," he cleared his throat, "Kanbura's brother is kind of gay..."

"Kind of?"

"Okay. He's gay. Very gay. And he has a crush on yours truly."

"Oh my god." She cracked up, gasping for breath in between bouts of laughter. "Oh my GOD, that's - hilarious. And kind of cute. But mostly hilarious."

"It is not funny," he protested. "He French-kissed me. And Kanbura was walking into the room and saw the whole damn thing."

She collapsed against the wall, laughing too hard to support herself.

He scowled.

"Well," she giggled, "was it a good kiss at least?"

He was appropriately horrified by the question. "Okay, first of all, the kid's too young for me. And secondly, I was way too worried about Kanbura's reaction to pay attention. And thirdly...no. Just no."

She blinked. "He's...too young for you? That's your only hang-up? Wait, Minamoto, are you gay?"

Oh, god, he had stepped into a real minefield, hadn't he? "...not exactly."

"What's that supposed to mean? How can you be not exactly gay?"

"...I guess the proper word is bisexual? Or pansexual?"

"Really? So you don't care about the gender at all?" She looked...fascinated, was that the right word? Curious? Surprised? Inquisitive?

"No, not really," he said, wondering why he was even having this conversation with her, of all people.

She tilted her head. "...so how are you supposed to pick your, uh, future partner? Are you just going to - I have no idea how to say this. Are you just going to settle down with one orientation?"

...wait, settle down with - what? What the hell? He stared at her. "I don't think it works the way you think it works," he said.

"Oh." She frowned. "Well, either way, I wouldn't have pegged you for a bisexual, Minamoto."

"Honestly, I think flexible is a better word than bisexual," he muttered, wishing that he had never touched this subject.

"Huh." She tilted her head. "So...what kind of guy are you attracted to?"

He stared at her and wondered why the world was torturing him so much today. "Are you seriously asking me this?"

"Yep!"

"You're...odd."

"Well," Izumi shrugged, "better than boring."

Fuck, she didn't even know the half of it. "...better than boring," he agreed.

"So?" She bounced on her heels.

"I'm attracted to guys with...with a nice chest, I guess? I like - " he gestured with his hand, "I like it when they're pretty well-built." He thought about Ryo for the briefest of moments, but it was surprisingly easy to dismiss the image. This girl was seriously doing something to him.

"Okay, what about girls...?"

Kouji was far too tempted to say Girls like you...but it wasn't actually true. She didn't fit the mold of his usual likes at all. Fuck it, he might as well be honest. "Again, a nice chest," he said, coughing a little. "And hips. That's what I like."

"...Everybody has hips."

He ducked his head and groaned out loud. "Okay, yes, but I'm talking about...hips-hips. You understand?"

She stared at him blankly.

He turned around to face the bar again. "...fuck, how do I say this without being crude?"

She actually laughed at that. "Oh, for crying out loud, you're MINAMOTO KOUJI," she said, giggling. "How crude can you be?"

"Very." And it's all your fault, dammit.

"Oh, I gotta hear this."

"Don't hit me," he said warily, glaring at the people who were still in the room. They got the hint and started filtering out.

"Do your worst, Minamoto."

"No, I'm serious."

"Well, so am I." She leaned forward, grinning.

He made a faint disapproving sound. "You just want to see me squirm, basically."

"Yeah. Basically."

"...you're a sneaky one, Orimoto." He felt the weirdest mixture of annoyance and admiration for her.

"Oh, I know," she said flippantly, still grinning like a cat.

He rocked his cup of iced-tea-that-wasn't-just-tea. "Tits and ass. I like tits and ass. Okay? Soft and round on the bottom, perky on top. That's my ideal girl." His voice was flat but steady, and his eyes were trained on the rim of his glass.

She twisted her chair right and left, flushing slightly. "...Okay, I take that back. You can be pretty crude. But I've heard way, way worse."

"Well, yeah, so have I," he muttered, relieved that the moment was over. "Mostly from my own brother."

"You have a brother?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. She looked upwards, thinking furiously...and then laughed.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What's so funny?"

"I think," she snickered softly, "that one of you is enough for the world, honestly. We don't need that many closet keys running around."

Okay, she had lost him. He had no clue what that was supposed to mean. "What's a closet key?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," she replied cheekily. At his blank look, her grin widened to childish proportions. "You've never heard of the closet?"

He blinked. "I know what a closet is."

"Well I would hope so," she said, without missing a beat. "Since you've probably spent a good portion of your life in one."

"...hasn't everybody? Excluding nudists."

"I meant a closet of the gay variety," she said, with mock patience.

He gaped at her like a fish. "Oh. Oh."

"Hooray, you finally got it! Only took you what, five minutes?"

"First of all...it was only two, max. Second of all...shut up, Orimoto."

She laughed, clutching her sides.

"Why were we even talking about closets?" he asked, a little despairingly.

"Because I called you a closet key," she replied, smiling.

"Ah. Ah." That...actually made some sense now.

"Of the gay variety." She added, grinning widely. "Because you're pretty enough to drag people out of the closet."

He thought about Ryo, and Jenrya, and Yamato, and it was like a lightbulb had been turned on.

She blinked. "No sarcastic quip, Minamoto?" She waved her hand in front of his eyes. "Are you okay?"

He waved her off with cursory annoyance. "No, I just realized...that explains a lot about my previous relationships."

It was her turn to revert to a one-word response. "Oh." She fiddled with her cup slightly.

...he definitely had it bad. Even the way she blushed caught his eye. He leaned forward and pinched her cheek. "Aha. Who's the awkward one now?" He couldn't resist the urge to smirk at her.

Oh.

Holy fuck.

She was kissing him, and her lips were soft and warm just like he thought they would be, and she smelled like something sweet and fruity under the hoppy flavor of beer. Then she backed off before he could react. He stared at her, not even moving a muscle.

"Sorry," she said weakly.

He had no idea why she was apologizing. All he could think about was the softness of her skin and the warm redness of her cheeks, and oh god the door was still open and they were still holding their drinks and he needed to put them down somewhere, and I want you so bad, Orimoto Izumi. Her grip on her half-empty beer can was so limp that he didn't meet any resistance at all when he tugged it out of her hand. It was like she didn't even notice.

He glanced at the can critically, wondering if - well, she was so tiny compared to him, he had no way to gauge if this much beer was enough to do anything to her. The last thing he needed was for her to wake up in the morning with regrets. Dammit, this was why he hated alcohol!

"Orimoto," he said, as he put the drinks aside and closed the door firmly, "Are you drunk? Or tipsy? Even the slightest bit?"

"I had one beer," she snapped, glaring at him, "I am not drunk. I am not tipsy. What I am is sorry, but I'm definitely not - we've been talking for at least half an hour, all the alcohol's probably out of my system now - "

"Are you sure?" he pressed, laying a solid hand on her shoulder.

She stared back at him, defiantly. Her eyes were dilated so much that he could only see a thin ring of turquoise iris. "Yes," she whispered hoarsely.

"Okay," he murmured, hoping that he wasn't going to regret what he was about to do. In one smooth movement, he pulled her forward by the waist and kissed her roughly. She whimpered softly, but she didn't pull away, and he took that as a good sign. Her long blonde hair was soft and lovely and he couldn't resist the urge to run his hands through it, tilting his head ever so slightly to deepen the kiss.

"Mi - " she gasped, pulling away from him for the briefest of moments. "Minamoto, what - on earth are you - ?"

"I," he breathed against the edge of her mouth, "am kissing you. You got a problem with that?"

"Oh, god no," she murmured, and those were dangerous words to say to him in this state. He pressed her against the wall with his body, kissing her slowly as he moved his hands to cradle her slim hips. She moaned when he lifted her up to hold her body completely flush against his.

He kissed the hollow of her throat next, murmuring, "Do you mind if I keep going?"

"No," she whimpered.

"No as in stop, or no as in you don't mind?" he breathed in and out sharply, gritting his teeth with the effort of restraining himself. He was so fucking hard, and he knew that she could feel it through the thin barrier of their clothes. If she wanted him to back off she needed to tell him NOW.

"No as in I'm gonna kill you if you stop now," she said, pronouncing each word clearly.

He smirked against her soft skin. "Understood."

"Oh, god," she moaned, as he ran his hand down the length of her body, brushing lightly against her upper thighs. "Has to be a dream. Has to."

He glanced at her sharply, aching with desire. "You have dreams like this?"

"Your fucking eyes," she half-sobbed as he sucked gently on the juncture of her neck and collarbone. "That's why."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say," he told her, straightening up so that he could press their foreheads together.

"Yes," she said, and her voice was so breathy and beautiful that he wanted to hear her say his name like that. "Yes, I dream about you. It's partially your eyes...you have amazing eyes... but it's everything else too."

"Are they good dreams?" he murmured, staring at her with half-lidded eyes.

"So good," she whispered, reaching forward to run her thumb over his temple and around his eyes.

Orimoto Izumi was going to be the death of him. He was fully convinced of it. "Fucking hell, why didn't you tell me," he muttered, sliding his fingers under her shirt and stroking upward to her breasts. "We could have been doing this for the past hour - "

"Because - " she gasped, kissing his neck between words, "You were - saying all these things - about hips and - and - "

Oh, for fuck's sake, he shouldn't have said anything. "Look, Orimoto, I know you're not - you really aren't my type, but it's like everything you do turns me on, and I have no freaking clue why - "

"How was I supposed to know that?" she cried, glaring at him. It was largely an ineffective glare, though, considering that she was pressed to him from breast to thigh. She moved her hips forward to meet his and straddled him.

He groaned and ground his body into hers. It took effort to remember that he was supposed to carry half of the conversation. "Because, I don't know, I've been staring at you for the past hour?" he retorted finally.

"Okay, fine, but you could have made a move - "

"Well, yes, but we met three weeks ago - "

"But you do have dreams," she said, half as a question, half as a statement. "Like mine."

"God, yes. After I saw you at tryouts - holy fuck, your tsuki," he groaned. "You had this really amazing - "

"Are you fucking serious," she half-whimpered as he nibbled on her collarbone, "You're attracted to me because of kendo - "

"Because you look sexy as hell doing it, yeah," he murmured, making quick work of her buttons. The fabric dropped from her shoulders and he pulled back slightly to stare. "You're not even wearing a bra today. God."

She arched against the wall. Her chest was heaving slightly.

"Orimoto," he said, leaning forward to press his mouth against her collarbone, before moving down.

"I can't believe you," she shuddered. "Oh. Oh."

His tone was wry and piercing beneath the huskiness of his desire. "I know, I can't believe me either."

"I'm not going to have sex with you in Matsuda's room," she told him, shuddering. He grimaced at the thought. "But we can - we can do everything else."

"Everything?" he couldn't help but smirk slightly. Did she really know what she was saying?

"You pick. I don't care," she breathed.

"You are such a goddamned tease," he whispered huskily.

"I'm a tease? ME?" she shuddered and moved her hands to his back, pressing hard with her fingertips, arching whenever his mouth found a particularly sensitive spot. "How am I the tease?"

"Because I'm definitely not one," he replied. "And there's way too much teasing going on right now, and it has to come from somewhere." Or, in this case, someone.

She laughed and he could feel her body shaking from it. "You...you're so ridiculous."

"Mmm. But it's true. You're the worst tease, telling me I can have anything but sex."

"Still better than a dream," she murmured, eyes shut and fingers clenched around his back.

"God, yes. Much better."

"And - and next time, no alcohol."

"Fair enough," he muttered. "Let's...I don't know...get dinner tomorrow or something." His tongue flicked out over her breast gently. "Okay?" he breathed. "Sound good?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, yes yes."

"Okay," he let out the breath that he didn't even know he was holding.

She shivered and rested her hands on his chest. "...now touch me," she murmured.

"I am," he murmured, almost delirious with lust and pleasure and a whole wealth of sensations that he couldn't even name.

"No," she whispered, arching up until he could literally feel the wetness between her thighs. Her skirt was hitched up to her waist. "Touch me."

Oh. Oh, fuck, she was...

"God, you have no idea what you're doing to me," he said hoarsely.

"Tell me," she breathed.

He kissed her long and slow and deep before pulling away to respond. "You," he breathed, hooking a finger on her panties and gliding them down her thighs, "are like a fucking drug. Addictive." He kissed her again. "I want you...and I want you under me. I want you everywhere, anywhere, as long as it's you and me." He lowered his mouth to shell of her ear. "I want you to moan my name until you lose your voice."

She had closed her eyes, giving him a little smirk of her own, but her body trembled slightly under him. "...oh?" she breathed.

"So," he slid his fingers between her thighs, but not quite inside of her, "tell me. What about you, Orimoto Izumi?"

She swallowed and reached up to run her fingers over his throat. Her touch was feather-light but completely and utterly captivating.

"Well?" he prompted.

"I...want you to make me feel like I can't live without you."

He stared at her and shuddered. God damn it. What the hell could you say to something like that?

...nothing. That's what.

He kissed her hard, sliding his tongue against her lower lip. She arched upwards, clenching her thighs around his hand, practically whimpering when he brushed his thumb against the spot of pleasure above her entrance. She grasped his wrist and tried to push his fingers deeper into her, but he tugged his hand away instead. Her little wordless sob of protest had him clenching his jaw with the strain of holding back. "Patience," he breathed.

"Tease," she managed. Her eyes were so pleading that he almost gave in.

"No, I'm not," he said, pressing a kiss to the valley of her breasts. "Lie down, it's easier," he murmured, spreading his left hand flat over her belly. "And feels better."

She flexed instinctively, raising shallow ridges of solid muscle in her abdomen. He made a soft noise of appreciation, but then she held herself perfectly still in his arms and he almost groaned with frustration.

"Orimoto," he said, piercingly, with a hint of impatience, "lie down." Then, as if to make sure that she was paying attention to him, he lowered himself to press open-mouthed kisses all along the bottom of her rib cage.

She obliged, sliding down the wall until she was almost level with the ground. Her knees practically buckled under her. "Wait," she shuddered, "Gimme a minute..."

"You think I can wait that long?" he scoffed, only half-teasing.

She swallowed hard. "Oh god," she whispered. "You weren't kidding."

"...you're going to have to be a little more specific than that, Orimoto. I have no idea what you're - "

"About me," she interrupted, speaking in a rush. "I mean, about - about - wanting...me."

"Oh, you think?" He moved his knee from between her legs and started kissing a warm, tingling trail down her belly.

"Are you actually going to be okay with stopping?" she practically gasped out, spreading her legs instinctively.

His lips curled. "I seem to recall a pretty girl telling me earlier this evening that she would kill me if I stopped...?"

"Minamoto..."

"Kouji," he corrected. "Say my name properly."

"Kouji." She said it like a prayer and he stifled a moan. "I'm serious. Are you going to be okay with stopping? Because - I - "

He shuddered. "I know. But you're right, we're in Matsuda's room, and - "

"Oh god, we are," she said, covering her furious blush with her hands.

"Do you want to...maybe go somewhere else..."

"...I can't move," she whispered. "My legs, I..."

He bit his lip. Dammit, she was not making this easy for him. "Just tell me when you don't want to go any further," he murmured against the skin of her belly. "Okay?"

"Oh, god, if you're relying on me to stop you, we're so screwed."

He rested his hand on the curve of her left breast and kissed the other gently. "Do you want to stop now, then?" Every inch of his body was tense and aching for her, but...

"...I'll kill you," she breathed.

He smirked gently. "Well, then. "

She shivered. The anticipation in her eyes was the worst kind of temptation possible. "...yes."

He kissed her everywhere, soft and gentle, but with the hard edge of desire. "Have you ever...?"

"Yes," she murmured, closing her eyes. "Um, with my last boyfriend."

A sharp spike of jealousy ran through him and his next kiss was not quite so gentle. "Hmmm."

Her lips curled and she looked at him slyly. "You don't like that, huh?"

"No. I don't," he said, stunned at his own audacity.

She looked just as surprised as he did and the flush that covered her cheeks was...incredibly appealing. "We weren't - don't worry about him. He was terrible in bed."

He gave a sharp bark of laughter and kissed her again. "Hmmm. No, I still don't like it."

"No?" she breathed, with a brilliant little smile and a dark look in her eyes. "Okay, then. Go on. Make me forget all about him."

"...Is that a challenge, I-zu-mi?" he pronounced the syllables of her name slowly, intently.

"Oh, yes."

"Hmm, but you've handicapped me..." he tilted his head thoughtfully, stroking a gentle circle around her breast, closer and closer to the tip. "No sex, remember?"

She shuddered and arched into his touch. "I don't know...You're...doing a good job," she said, in short gasps.

He kissed the other breast gently and traced the very tip of his tongue over the delicate nipple. "...Hmmm," he murmured, closing his eyes and grinding his hard arousal against her. Fuck. They were going way too slow...but he didn't know if he even wanted to go faster. He just wanted this to last.

She gave a soft cry. "Kou...ah." She bit her lip so hard a tiny drop of blood appeared under her teeth.

He frowned and pressed his lips against hers, kissed the broken skin of her bottom lip. "Hey. Don't."

"...feels so good...that it hurts," she whimpered.

He stared at her. "So you bite your lip and actually hurt yourself?" he asked skeptically.

She shoved him weakly, glaring. "It works."

He grinned slightly. "If you say so," he murmured, taking her hand and resting it just below his stomach. She smiled a smile that was sly and dreamy at the same time, and he was quick to kiss it off of her. "Don't even think about it," he said darkly.

"Think about what?"

"Teasing me."

Izumi pouted. "But you - "

"Well, you're the one who challenged me to make you forget your..." he stopped, realizing that he shouldn't be reminding her about the guy at all.

She grinned. "Doesn't mean I have to lie back and take it." Her hand moved down to stroke him with light, light touches and he groaned. "Kouji," she breathed. "Have you ever heard of sumata?"

Oh. Fuck. He was so damn close as it was, and now she had to go and mention - "You are not doing that," he practically moaned.

"Why not?"

"Because - " he tensed up when she began to touch him more confidently, " - because - dammit, where did you learn this - "

She giggled and kissed him on the shoulder. "From you," she said. "I'm just making it up as I go."

He grabbed her wrists and looked at her intently. Her eyes went a little wide and she tried to tug her arms back, to no avail. She was strong, yes, but he was certainly stronger - and he had the advantage of size and position. "Izumi," he said softly, sensing that she didn't much enjoy being dominated like this. "I don't do sumata because it goes way too fast, understand?"

"Oh," she said, with a slow but almost shy smile, "really?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "...what's that supposed to mean?"

"So...you've actually done it before?"

He just kept staring at her. "If I say yes, what are you going to do?" he asked.

"Mmmm." Her smile widened. "Can I try something?"

"...I don't know about that."

"Please?"

"Fine," he said, slowly.

"Okay," she murmured, "But you have to promise not to move an inch."

His eyebrow went high.

"Promise!" she said, indignantly.

"...okay. I promise."

She looked so bright and mischievous and alluring that it was almost painful to stay still while she stripped him of his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans.

It was a little...nerve-wracking, actually. "Izumi, do you mind at least TELLING me what you're trying to do?"

"That would ruin the surprise," she said. "Lie down?"

"I don't think I care too much for your surprises," he replied, but he followed her instruction. She stuck her tongue at him and he couldn't resist a soft chuckle.

She gently slid her hand into what was left of his clothing, and he gritted his teeth slightly as the hard length in her hand was uncovered. "Kouji," she said, her voice very soft and shy, "I've...never done this, so...tell me what feels good, okay?"

"Yeah," he breathed hoarsely. "Okay."

In a flash, she went from kneeling next to him to actually straddling him, and he sucked in a sharp breath. It was...almost like she was riding him, but instead of sliding onto him, she closed her thighs around his length. The tip of his arousal touched her lower belly. "...okay?" she whispered.

He hissed in pleasure when her soft thighs moved around him. "...Yeah. I did tell you sumata is too fast, though..."

"We can slow it down," she said, lifting her knees and slowly stroking him between her legs as she leaned forward.

His breath was knocked out of him. "Fuck - " he breathed.

She whimpered at the same time, closing her eyes and pausing after the first few strokes. "I...Kouji, I - " She started moving again, hesitantly, but she was trembling.

He moved up in a flash, pulling himself from between her thighs. The lack of skin contact made him groan softly, but it wasn't like it could be helped. "Stop that," he said, sitting up a little gingerly and pulling her to the side. "If you do it that way it's going to feel sore."

She bit her lip. "...why?"

"Because you're rubbing me on your clit," he said, a little exasperated. "Friction."

She flushed red. "O-oh. But...I mean...I've seen..."

He snorted. "You've seen?" he prompted.

"Never mind," she murmured, blushing brightly.

"...porn?" he offered, smirking when she blushed brightly and nodded quickly. "No. Although it's hilarious that you watch that kind of thing."

"I was curious!"

"Why, because your last boyfriend didn't know shit about what he was doing?"

"...nail on the head," she mumbled.

He snorted.

She looked at him. "How much experience do you have?" she asked uncertainly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Enough."

"...I'm not going to get a straight answer on this one, am I?"

"No." He reached over and kissed her again, running his hands down her back.

She shivered. "Kouji," she murmured. "How should I do it, then?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You still want to try?"

"No!" she blushed again. "I mean, what else can we...?"

"Ever used your mouth?"

"I have a gag reflex."

"Ah." He looked thoughtful. "Hands."

"Okay," she whispered, squeaking when he grabbed just below her waist and tipped her back. His other hand braced the small of her back, keeping her from falling all the way. "Kouji - !"

"I meant my hands," he breathed, "not yours."

"Why can't it be both?" she complained.

He blinked at her. "...why...can't it?" He leaned back. "Huh."

She grinned at him. "Yes?"

"Why not." He kissed her before covering her body with his. Her legs went around his waist.

She gave a little pleased sigh and her hands squeezed into the small space between them. Her fingers ran over his chest before moving lower.

He hissed softly and stroked her soft breasts with his hands. She was going slow, good. He honestly didn't think he was going to last long, not after what amounted to half an hour of almost-sex.

She whimpered. "Kouji, feels good."

"Not so good it hurts, though?" he murmured wryly.

She smiled slightly. "That's...only when you touch me here." She arched upward, pressing her delicate sex against his groin. They both shuddered.

"No more of that," he muttered into her ear. "You said no sex, and I'm trying to actually follow that."

"Okay," she said, nodding with her eyes squeezed tightly closed. Her hands finally reached his cock and she stroked it slowly, applying just enough pressure to keep him tense and gasping, but not enough to actually bring him to climax.

His hands hit the ground and he braced himself on them, groaning softly.

"...that's good?" she asked softly.

"Goddammit, yes." He let himself fall a little lower onto her, until the tip of his member was stroking the skin between her legs, right where she was most sensitive.

In response, she let go with her hands, only to replace them with her thighs.

He hissed, "I thought you were done with that."

"But I'm not doing sumata wrong this time," she murmured, with false innocence. "Am I?"

"God - " He gritted his teeth as she moved her body up and down, rubbing the taut skin of his cock right against her entrance. "No. You're not - fuck - "

She whimpered and pulled him in for a kiss. It was like they were drowning in each other.

His entire body suddenly clenched tight, ready -

Then she whispered, "Okay, stop," and he jerked back with shock. "Kouji, stop."

Blankly, he stared at her, but she just stared back with complete seriousness. Equal parts confused and aroused, he lifted himself up with a soft curse.

It was...absolute torture to stop like that, but not in the way he was expecting. He was only half hard now, and slick, but still painfully aroused. She had stopped just short of letting him go over the edge, and now he was left in a smoldering mess of heat and desire and pleasure and pain. "Fuck," he swore. His head was spinning from the haze of euphoria. "...Fuck, sorry," he offered, even though he had no earthly idea what he was apologizing for, or why she stopped him.

"Kouji," she said, shuddering. Her chest rose and fell with her quickened breaths. "How was that?" she murmured, and she was grinning and - dammit, she had done that on purpose. Growling, he grabbed her by the waist. She looked at him a little nervously but let him pull her up. "...Kouji?"

"...Tease," he managed, squeezing his eyes shut. The high was slow to leave, and the painfully tight feeling in his abdomen even slower. There was a tormenting tingle shooting up and down his body. He didn't think that even a cold shower was going to help now. A weak chuckle escaped him. He should have been more careful when he wished for this to last.

She smiled and pressed her face into his chest. "But did you like it?"

Hell, he didn't even know. "...You are a horrible tease."

"You didn't answer the question."

He snorted. "No."

Her face fell a little bit.

He gently ran his thumb under her chin. "But it's definitely something to be explored."

A smile slowly blossomed on her face. "You did like it," she said.

"Mmm. It's...different. I don't think I've ever had anybody deny me an orgasm and expect me to like it." He raised an eyebrow at her. "...was that something you learned from porn, too?"

This time, she blushed but didn't hesitate to fire back, "Better porn than my ex-boyfriend, no?"

He laid his head back and laughed. "...Agreed."


Okay! That's the M part done. Hope you enjoyed!

And if that left you confused, well...I guess you have to read the actual series, huh? :P