A/N: First no update in weeks and now two in one day! I'm on a roll today people! I finally sat down to write the third chapter but I couldn't stop typing, so I wrote the fourth as well! All hail coffee overdoses. Please Review people, review!
Peace out.
Biology
Chapter Four: Dreamscapes
Kyouraku Shunsui drifted into consciousness with two ideas clearly formed in his sleep-hazed head.
One, that he was naked under his sheets, a normal state of being for him.
And the second…
There was light in his eyes.
Shunsui flinched, waiting for the explosion of pain that always hit him in varying levels of intensity. It never came. Since the lack of blinding agony meant that he didn't drink himself into a stupor last night, it had to be that he was either horribly maimed or incarcerated. He cracked one eye open gingerly, cautiously surveying his surroundings before whooshing out a breath in relief. He wasn't in a jail cell or the infirmary.
The memories of last night came to him in one dazzling rush. His lips curling into a lazy smile, he turned over to find the space beside him empty. He hadn't expected her to stay, it was late and God forbid his Nanao Chan should sleep in…
He wasn't sure what last night had been. Lapse of judgment on her part, lapse of reality on his? Whatever it was, it had been the most confusing night of his life, and the most enlightening. Time had blurred the edges of when his playful teasing had grown into actual love for her. But it had happened.
He ran his hand through his hair in wonder, staring at the ceiling like he had never seen it before. He had spent last night making love to Ise Nanao. Making love, not sex, because she told him that she loved him. It had been too long since he had felt this way; too long since he had been in love with his lover.
Gods, just the remembrance of the ways in which she had reacted to his touch made him want her again. She used to make his bones ache with desire. Now his very soul cried out for her.
The fact that she wanted last night to be their only night together didn't bother him. He knew her enough to predict her actions. She would have woken up happy, sated, smiling. Then there would be regret, anger and perhaps a bit of shame at what she had done. She would have gotten dressed quickly, efficiently; her elegant hands trained enough to not need a mirror to lay pleats and folds neatly in place. She would have tied up her hair, remembering last night when she had started everything by letting in down and swearing that she wouldn't let it slip a millimeter ever again. Then she would have paused at the door, glanced over her shoulder with eyes so sad and left with the sound of rustling fabric and the swish of the shoji.
She would probably be working herself into a frenzy, trying to kill the growing dread and nervousness inside her. Perhaps her hands would be shaking, and her brush would form spidery, unstable characters on forms and memos instead of her usual precise letters.
He knew that she would try her hardest to run, to make it so it never happened. Her pride and her sense of wrong would eat at her until she "fixed" everything. He'd be damned to the lowest depths of hell if he let her.
He knew every path she ran, every plan in her organized mind, and her knew every way to turn her sensible world inside out. He wouldn't let her get away, not without a fight. After last night, the chase he had been in for decades took a turn in his favor. He would make her love him so much that she will come to him herself.
"Nanao Chan, let the games begin."
