She will be loved, part 2
A/N : A big thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited, followed and PMed. You guys rock.
Warning : This chapter contains sexual situations a.k.a smut. I, personally am very fond of this genre but for those of you who aren't… Well, I did warn you.
For as long as Kisumi can remember, he's always gotten everything he ever wanted. He had learnt early on that if you smiled the right way or looked sorry enough, you could bend even the most rigid people in your direction.
He remembers his first kiss, in his school playground and a little girl, his classmate, he thinks, most probably, but he can't even remember her name. Only two sweet, caramel pigtails. It was innocent back then, just two kids wandering into territory they should've just left alone, something straight out of the movies, nothing like the pleasure he has learnt over time of course, but he remembers her eyes closed, and the sharp intake of her breath as he closed his lips over hers. It's funny, he thinks, it was his idea, he was the one who stole the kiss from her, but every shy glance from her side from that day onward only begged him to do it again.
It wasn't until middle-school when he transferred to Iwatobi that he met the first person to ever show resistance to his charm.
Nanase Haruka was sullen, stubborn and everything Kisumi wasn't. He was amused at first, because despite his tendency to manipulate, he liked making new friends and the quiet boy who sat in front of him was surely interesting.
He learnt that Haruka wasn't too fond of expressing himself or speech in general, the hard way, after being ignored thoroughly despite his constant efforts to strike up conversation. At least not unless it concerned his best friend whom Kisumi met at lunch.
"Makoto," he had said, clearly ignoring Kisumi standing behind him, "Let's go to the terrace and have lunch."
"Aren't you going to invite your new friend, Haru?" The boy said, smiling warmly at Kisumi and he wants to tell him that he doesn't need to be invited, that he would have come along anyway, but his throat turns dry, when he actually gets a good look at him.
While Kisumi can do nothing more than just gape, Haruka narrows his eyes at him. "He's not my friend," he says bluntly and heads up the stairs.
"Ahhh," the other boy says, Makoto, as Haruka had called him, "Haru-chan can be a little shy sometimes. I'm sorry."
Don't apologize, Kisumi thinks, someone as beautiful as you should never have to apologize, but he's doing the thing again where he's just thinking but not saying.
"Follow me," Makoto says, holding out not only his hand, but also the most blinding smile, "I'll take you to our special lunch spot."
"Okay," Kisumi mumbles, and he thinks he would just gladly follow Makoto forever.
..
Things had gotten to a point where even her brother had noticed something was wrong.
"Are you saying no?" he asks in disbelief. "It's ice-cream, Gou." Rin couldn't remember the last time his sister had ever resisted strawberry ice cream.
In fact, he was having a tough time believing that the girl in front of him was his sister at all. Sure, she looked the same, lounging around the house in shorts and his t-shirt, but there was no smile on her face, no sparkle in her eyes… no life, in short, and it was beginning to worry him.
"We could go to your favourite parlour by the beach," –
"I'm just not in the mood," she snaps and before the words are out of her mouth she feels guilty for taking her frustration out on a man who isn't even a part of it. She sighs. "I'm sorry, onii-chan, I just" - she yelps in surprise - "What are you doing?! Put me down!"
By the time they're out of the house, she's laughing at how ridiculous this whole thing is, her scooped upside down on her brother's shoulder – she did of course take a moment to admire how he lifted her up so easily, like she was made of nothing – being dragged out of her house, despite her complaints. "Okay, okay I'll walk," she consents, mortified when a classmate spots her in this position. "People are looking, onii-chan!"
..
Later when they're just sitting on the sand, watching the sun dip into the water and paint it red, and it's been so long since they've done this, sitting around with no one but each other, in peace. "I know I'm hardly ever around, Gou," he starts sadly. "Onii-chan," she interrupts, her voice tinged with warning because how many times had she told him that there was no reason to feel guilty about this?
He pushes on. "And I'm not going to be either. Times like this are only going to get more infrequent."
She says nothing. For the first time she wants to laugh, loud, because it really is hilarious how all the men in her life were leaving at the same damn time. "I may be a real shitty brother," he says, shushing her before she protests, "but you can talk to me, you know."
He looks at her searchingly. "Tell me what's wrong, Gou."
She laughs and it's fake to even her own ears, forced, and she pats his leg playfully. "I don't know why you think something's wrong. It's this new diet actually. I'm just trying to lose weight for the" –
"I'm not deaf," he says, angrily, "I can hear you crying at night." Well what did she expect? In housing as modest as theirs', sharing a room with her brother was more than just a little bit awkward at this age, it meant that every muffled sob and soft hiccup did not go unnoticed.
"Did someone hurt you?" His voice is dark as he asks this, threatening in a way that it hasn't been in years, not since he gave her kindergarten bullies a peace of his mind.
But she wasn't a crying little toddler who could go to her brother for every small muddle that she found herself in. So she gulps back her tears and says, voice wavering only slightly, "It's really nothing, onii-chan."
Because what would he able to do when it wasn't Kisumi who hurt her, or even Makoto, unknowingly, but she herself who dealt the most damage, the memory of each kiss and caress on that stuporous night like fresh salt on her wounds.
..
He's never done this, the fabled chase behind a woman, but he figures if there were ever someone to change for, it would be her. He didn't know what it meant, why it felt so different, why each taste of her eager, desperate mouth, hurt him in a way that only left him craving more.
The word pining was something he reserved only for Makoto, but he couldn't deny this longing either. Every time she cut his call, it would only spur him to try again.
But as with all things, he eventually ran out of time and because text message was the last way he wanted to leave things, he wrote her an email.
To : princess_kou
Subject : You're ignoring me, sweetheart.
He smiles as he writes this because he knows she will make a face at his endearment.
I've called you only a million times since last week and I know you've been receiving my text messages as well.
Apologies don't come easy to me – you know this – but I'm an asshole and this time, I will accept it. I know you wanted your first time to be special and I cannot tell you how sorry I am for ruining it. My lack of morals and self-control is no reason to spoil what should have been a very special memory for you.
What happened on Friday night was inexcusable and unforgivable and I only hope you will find it in your heart to forget this and not hate me.
Because, Gou, you were my friend and that is a relationship I treasure more than you know.
Don't be a stranger.
Love,
Kisumi
..
Reading this email was nothing short of torture for Gou because her phone beeped at 12 AM sharp and she knew before she even flipped open her phone that it was him. If she remembered correctly his flight was scheduled to depart first thing in the morning.
When she read the familiar email address – yes his username just had to be something as audacious as kiss-me – mixed feelings flooded her mind. "Who is it?" Rin asks sleepily from the bed beside hers.
"Hana-chan's going through a break up," she lies and she hopes he doesn't see the single tear glistening across her cheeks. Because even though she knows it's irrational – she's the one who's been ignoring him after all – the words forget and friend grate against her raw heart full with images of that night, rank with alcohol and loveless passion, and her first and darkest mistake.
He was right though. A biggest part of her guilt was the inability or her to accept the weight of what she had done. To others, it may just be sex, a common teenage indulgence, but Gou had yet to let go of many of her childlike notions. Small, deep confessions she had shared with him one evening on their walk back from the gym.
She had always thought her first time would be special. In her mind she would bare her body only after she had bared her soul and that, only to the one whom she would love beyond all reason, the one whom she would spend her entire life loving.
It had never occurred to her that her first time would be like this.
It was nothing like the scores of romantic movies and books she had immersed herself in.
There were no chocolates and flowers and whispered words of seduction.
There was only alcohol, sharp and strong on the taste of his tongue, mingling with her own, only broken whimpers spilling from her own mouth when he took her, and punctured rasps of her name when she raked her nails against his back in ecstasy.
There was no adorable fumbling with each other's clothes and wondering how bra clasps and stubborn button flies work, only his expertise in dispelling with women's clothing and her desperation to have him.
She had dreamt that her lover would be patient, gentle, looking at her with concern when he hurt her and that she would assure him that it was okay, and that her pain would be nothing in front of her pleasure. But that was not to be.
Because when Kisumi held her body with an urgency that resonated throughout her, bending her, slinging her leg over his shoulder to take her deeper, she suspected he knew her traitorous body much better than she did.
But most of all there was no Makoto, like she had dreamt of too many times, only a man whom she had never expected, pale strawberry locks buried with purpose between her breasts.
There was no patience, no gentleness, only a furious passion that knows no rhyme or reason, a passion that had to be sated.
But it was hard to reach that satiation when she rolled over to try again, this time when the alcohol had cleared up the daze in her mind, only to be replaced by a far more potent, lustful one.
She took him in her swiftly, consuming, the same way he had done the first time, squeezing her within him and moving in the most natural, erotic rhythm that she knew. She had earned soft groans from his mouth, formed beautifully in the shape of her name and it gave her the most thrilling high, prompting her to go faster, wilder bringing them both to a place of which they could not get enough.
They kissed for what seemed like hours after, because even though this was nowhere near enough for them, their bodies are spent, ringing with the sweet ache that can come only from consummation.
The morning came soon, too soon, and they woke up together, moving with each other, inside each other, breathing the most pleasurable "good mornings."
He lay there, with her folded perfectly in his arms, lips trailing idly on her shoulder, so comfortable that he thought even Rin wouldn't be enough to make him move.
She bit back a sigh because even though they were just kisses, and they had done far worse, she could feel him stirring against her, a sweet pressure, and his kisses getting a little more greedy.
"You need to leave," she murmured forcing out the words because if she didn't start to think, she was certain she'd just happily stay in his arms forever.
"Why?" He asked this as if he didn't know the reason, as if it hadn't occurred to him that them falling in bed together was the last thing they should have done. But he was starting to forget those reasons, especially when he could feel her breaths turning uneven, her body subconsciously arching back against his erection.
It shamed her, the way her body responded to him, strongly on a primal level, made her cheeks burn when he played her like a familiar but well-loved instrument, wringing cries from her pouting mouth.
"There is no love between us," she managed in between gasps as his fingers worked their way inside her, twisting deep. "You know that."
He knew it and he doesn't need to be reminded because it's an ache that was better left forgotten, buried somewhere in the kisses he placed on her shoulders, her hips, and the tops of her breasts.
There was no love between them except for a flaming affection for a boy, tall and chocolate haired, with arms they've dreamt would someday hold them, soft, curved lips that would bear gentle kisses upon them.
It was a maddening fantasy, a desperate one, harboured equally by them both, one that brings tears to her eyes when she thinks of him.
Makoto.
What would he think if he knew about them, together, in this sick, twisted way, with nothing but feelings for another that they shower on each other's bodies, not loving, but using because it is so freely given.
"Please leave," she had said again, weakly this time, when he lay on top of her, having emptied his fire inside her, panting large, open mouthed kisses against her lips. His mouth curved into a smile against hers, a smile that for once wasn't mocking or flirtatious, a smile that shared her sadness, understood it, like only someone who had felt it themselves would.
"You know," he said, wryly, having buttoned himself and disposed of the used condoms, looking so wonderfully just-fucked, "this is the first time for me."
She had reared her head from her comforter haven, carmine eyes wide in shock. From what he had insinuated she had assumed he had had scores of lovers, male and female alike.
He had leaned down to kiss her one last time before he left her. "This is the first time that I have stayed and someone has begged me to leave."
..
She makes it on time to the airport, only to witness a fresh round of tears, no doubt headed by the ever exuberant Nagisa. "But who's going to be captain now?" he wails tearfully, clinging onto Makoto's tshirt. They've been over this before and Makoto and Haru even made it a point to check out the new recruits of the swim team but the tiny blonde isn't so easily pleased.
"I thought we already decided on Rei," Makoto says, ever patient, calmly petting a hand through Nagisa's hair and prying him off of him in a manner which no one would ever consider rude.
"But Rei-chan's too serious," he complains, "and Gou-chan will force me to go on a diet!"
She watches the whole scene, antics that she should have gotten used to by now, but this time it makes her a little sentimental, the feeling that it wasn't just her and her invincible boys anymore, stinging tears at the corners of her eyes.
When it's finally time to check in and they've reached the very last of their last times, Gou is finally sure she won't be able to hold her emotions in any longer. It's almost like he can sense it, like he can tell when she's upset, or anyone is for that matter, because that's just how Makoto is, too kind and too compassionate to ignore anything. So he pulls her into his arms, hugging her tightly.
It's everything that Gou had always thought it would be, warm and comforting with the faintest smell of his aftershave. She feels small, so very small against his large frame and her shame only makes her shrink further. It was everything she had always hoped for and much more and she almost tells him the truth, her truth, that she cannot reconcile with the fact that he's leaving.
That every single day in school will be spent missing his well-formed torso and his soft brown hair and a voice designed to turn even the hardest of hearts into a puddle.
It's on the tip off her tongue, the words, the prayers, that someday she will find him again and at that time she will never let him go.
But they don't come out, her thoughts dissolving inside her mouth, because they feel dirty, tainted inside a mouth that has known so much pleasure from another.
It seems even her touch is soiled and if she pays attention, she can still smell him, his distinct scent sharp and musky, so very different from the man in front of her, seeping from the pores of her skin.
"Take care of yourself, Gou-chan," he says warmly, enveloping her in his arms. She doesn't correct him this time, just tries her best to concentrate on the feeling of being nestled against the solid planes of his chest. When he pulls apart, he smiles at her, eyes crinkling in the way that had always made her heart skip a beat.
She wonders if Makoto can smell it, the clandestine odour of her debauchery. Would he still look at her the same way, kind eyes overflowing with affection?
"And Nagisa and Rei too. I'd hate to think what would happen to the swim club if only those two were left in charge."
She nods, going along with whatever he's saying, but she's not really listening, she's not paying attention to Makoto-senpai at all.
It hurts her, her entire being quivering with the weight of her tears solely because she finally knows what it feels like to be in Makoto-senpai's arms, and it had never, ever felt more wrong.
And that when he speaks and the syllables of his deep voice rumble through him and resonate into her, all she can feel is the most crushing sense of loss.
It's not something she can help but it pricks her that though he is warm, and gentle, and so very beautiful, at times it's almost like she can't take it anymore, she's already been burnt and it's only flames of the palest rose that are to blame.
A/N : Oh gosh, everything's just so sad right now. I do hope they sort things out soon enough…
Okay guys, I don't know about you but the serious lack of kisugou fanart/fanfiction is seriously depressing me.. : ( If anyone has any recommendations could you please message me? Either here or you can talk to me on my tumblr, the url of which is on my profile.
Thank you for reading!