Chapter two has arrived! Thank you for the many favorites, alerts and reviews on this tiny little one shot. (Or maybe a two shot this time)

Hope you enjoy!!

Sexless

Between now and then, I had picked myself off of the floor (mumbling that, no, I did not hold grudges but I held promises and we would continue the abstinence unless she planned on raping me or something cruel like that. Kouya, of course, muted her reply to nothing and gave me a hard stare) and stumbling on into the kitchen only wearing a soft, loose cami that came down to just above my bellybutton—along with my black boy-short underwear. It was still so dark out, so I managed to enter both the bathroom and hall closet thinking that one or the other was the kitchen. Confused and grouchy from stumbling into two doors already, I entered the kitchen on my gloomy cloud of unhappiness.

There I turned on the stove halfheartedly and poured water into a small, yellow teakettle for my breakfast. Green tea and half of a grapefruit. But since I was feeling so mellow, I grabbed both halves of the grapefruit out of the stuffed fridge in hopes that that would make me feel better.

So for the next ten minutes while the water was coming to a whistle, I waddled around he kitchen in my underwear. The comfiest underwear I owned. One of Kouya's favorite pair too . . .She loved playing with the bits of red lace that ran up around my thighs or just below my hipbones. She loved taking them off even more, though. . .slipping the silk down my thighs until they would dangle on a few toes and I could successfully kick them off to the far side of the room.

All of these usually lovely visions made my face hot as I half heartedly poured the water into a cracked mug (one that I had no doubt dropped into the sink or something—me being so clumsy.)

I watched the clear liquid turn first a grayish colour before swirling to form a sea foam then green, while contemplating how the hell I was going to survive no sex for however long my stubbornness would last. Maybe I would crack before then? NO!! Kouya would never let me live that down—

And speak of the devil, just behind me; I heard footsteps padding down the hall. I stared at the tea, mixing it with my fingers and wearing a smirk as the steps slowed halfway down the hall. She's staring at my ass. . .Kouya had a habit of doing that but would never admit it. Especially if I was only wearing tight underwear. And her favorite too! I must really be killing her, in fact.

And her expression, when she came up beside me, only clarified my though.

"Do you have to wear those?" She glowered, eyeing me up and down as if I were poisonous.

"What? You want me to take them off?" I suggested.

She narrowed her eyes, "I'd be happy to help you—but since you insist on. . .i don't know, killing us both—no, keep them on."

Kouya leaned against the counter beside me, stealing half my grapefruit and sprinkling a lot of sugar over the pink surface. Her sour expression studied the grapefruit indecisively. I had no idea what she was doing; she hated grapefruit. And only a second later, she pushed the plate away and nearly collapsed on the counter—head balanced in her hands.

"Dammit, Yamato—this feels like high school all over again. . ." She mumbled, not necessarily angrily but she sounded so tired of it all, "And it's mixing me up. I . . .I don't mean to take it so seriously but I can't help it. . .I didn't meant to blow up last night."

I watched her, my fingers long since resting from stirring the tea. "Kouya. . ." I didn't know quite what to say.

"I'm sorry. . .I'm trying to go along with you, here. But you know how crazy high school made me. . ."

"And I don't mean to bring that back. You know I would never want to do that."

"Yeah, I do." She sighed, taking her head partly out o her hands to peer up at me. Kouya's hair, bed tousled but utterly adorable, flipped little tresses of dark raven down her nose and into her eyes. I smiled down at her, running one of my hands through my own messy golden locks and pushing them over one shoulder. She managed a smile back, after unsuccessfully trying to hold it in.

Something then, right then, clicked inside of me and I blinked. Why did I feel such a need to figure out what I already knew? Why was I looking to a book to tell me that my relationship was prefect? And since when did I fallow directions?! Sex wasn't everything to us, I already knew that, but it was a level of our love that had been denied for so long. . .too long when we were younger. Why the hell should I be denying us now? That was just stirring old currents back to life. . .

"Yamato. . .you ok?" Kouya's perplexed expression shook me out of my little daze. She was standing up now, only leaning on the counter with her hips. I nodded, watching her for a minute in complete silence. . .

Then, at random I said rather determinedly, "Screw it. Screw everything I said."

Kouya did a bit of a double take, letting my expression and words sink in for a moment before squinting her eyes at me, "Wait, what. . .?"

"Everything I said about not screwing—screw it!" Our completely serious expressions suddenly broke with laughter when I had registered exactly what I had just said. It only proved I had a true gift for wording.

After the laughter had died down and we were still all smiles, I stepped forward and leaned up to hold her face between my hands, stroking the soft, flushed skin with my fingers. Kouya softened—even crumbled under this feather soft touch and opened her arms, pushing herself close to me. I breathed in that comforting smell, my favorite scent in the whole world, as strong arms laced themselves around my bare waist. She always did this special thing with her fingers whenever I had skin exposed there, softly running her fingertips over me like she was trying to memorize the feeling, or crack a secret code.

"Now," Kouya leaned her face down to press warm lips against my ear, "Did you mean that literally. . .or am I just thinking wishful thoughts?" I couldn't help but blush, pushing my body closer to hers as I let out a small laugh.

"You can do all the thinking you want, Kouya. . ." I mumbled, pressing my forehead against hers and smiling deviously, "But that's not going to get me out of these clothes, you know. . .?"

And at those words, I was suddenly backed up against the edge of the counter with two firm hands pressing into the gaps where my hipbones were—steering me where they wanted me to go. I looked up, a bit confused at what she was thinking, and when I did I saw everything in her scheming eyes.

I opened my mouth, "Oh, no—Kouya, we're not going to—?"

And just as I said this, she cut me off—grabbing my hips even more firmly and lifting me up the few inches it took for me to sit on the edge of the counter. "You know what we've done in nearly every room of this house except for this one?" My eyes were wide as she filled in the space between my parted legs.

"here!?" Surprise and disbelief dripped in my voice, "Kouya, you can't be serious—"

"I can't be?" She moved her fingers over the tops of my thighs in that 'I'm dead serious' sort of way. I shivered. And suddenly, very suddenly, there were her warm lips on mine and I was kissing her back half consciously and I was half consciously pulling her onto the counter along with me—very consciously moving the tea cup farther along the counter than either of us would end up being. (hopefully)

And it was all a gigantic blur of soft fabric being pulled over hair and then that soft navy blue night shirt she sometimes wears to bed—it's on the floor but neither of us is missing it as my cami floats down with it.

I smile, watching Kouya watch my bare stomach, trailing her eyes down to my hips. Where the lace begins. She's straddling my hips lightly and pushing my back against the hard counter. It's a very sexy feeling—much different from a mattress or even the floor. Kind of rough, and very raw.

"Kouya. . ." I whisper her name breathlessly when she kisses where the lace begins—deciding to torture me as she kisses up my stomach and chest; leaving those light jungle cat bites behind that we both love. I'm resisting the urge to moan but as she reaches my neck, I give in anyway. Pressing my hands to her shoulder blades, I can feel her shudder deeply.

"God, you have no idea how. . .how it affects me, " she paused, catching a strained and breathless gulp of air, "When you do that. . ."

I watch her eyes, hazy with this unknown light, before I move from underneath her until we're both on our sides. Kouya has no idea what I'm doing, of course—all she knows is that I'm kissing her, pressing my tongue to hers as I shift both of our bodies till she's under me.

Breaking apart just far enough to see that "whoa, how'd I get down here?" look in her eyes, I run my hands up the strong muscles of her stomach, over her soft breasts. She smiles, letting out a breathy laugh, "Oh, I see. . .you want to be the boy?" She says it like the phrase is some inside secret between us. I smirk, the corners of my mouth turning up till we're both smiling.

In that stubborn, my way or no way tone of voice I sometimes use; I declare in a whisper, "yes. . .I want to be the boy."

If you liked it, please review!! And I'll pop another one out soon. ;)