Chapter 4 - End Game
Akane feels drunk and out of control and, for once in her life, doesn't care. Nobu's arm is around her waist, the terry fabric of the robe she still wears soft yet rough against her skin where he applies pressure. His other hand is hot upon her breast where it flexes, or she's hot beneath it. Either way, sensations are fluxing through her she's never gotten from her own touch; her limited experience with men insufficient to provide a cache of worthwhile data.
She pushes herself upwards into his embrace with her knee, seeking leverage of any kind to regain some semblance of control. Her hands want to touch him too; every inch of him, places where daylight conceals. So much skin between them and she's heady with the realization. This is really happening and I want it. I want him. Why didn't I see that before now? She prods him onto his back, a pillow tumbling onto the floor beside the bed as she lay her torso atop his, save for her bent leg, planting soft kisses on his mouth, his chin, trailing down to his neck. His hands are beneath her robe, fingers skating across her lower back, then lower to caress the rise of her buttocks.
"What are you thinking, Inspector?" he murmurs into her damp hair, an amused tone in his voice.
She lifts her head to look into his eyes, her words somewhat serious, as if she needs to remind him of something he's forgotten. "What you said to me, once; after you came back. 'The criminal we face is nothing,' you said, 'compared to the thief called Time." His hands stop momentarily, and she feels his chest rise and fall with a hum of remembrance. "I don't want to waste any more time." She reaches up and their mouths merge in a kiss, deeper and longer than before. Want you. Need you.
Still joined, Nobu rolls her onto her back, her head close to the edge of the mattress and tipped slightly downward, making her a little dizzy. He pulls back and moves downwards, dropping a light kiss on each breast before focusing attention on one, darting his tongue around the nipple, teasing her with the edges of his teeth. He hears her soft moan and repeats the action with the other.
She runs a hand through his hair, dark and thick and smooth to the touch. It's odd, she thinks, somehow still able to think. To know how it feels touching him as he touches me. She wants to know what the rest of him feels like, but she's pinned and unbalanced, her body beginning to liquefy but weighted down by the robe she now wishes she'd shed completely. She struggles to get her arms out and he stops only long enough to pull her torso from the bed with one arm supporting her back from underneath, allowing the offending garment to fall from her shoulders and down her arms of its own accord. She's limp in his arms. Do as you will. I don't care.
With her arms freed, she reaches up and locks them behind Nobu's neck. She captures his upper lip between hers and allows herself to fully experience the moment. The way he tastes: like beer and mint and only him; and the way he feels: his mouth soft, warm and wet as their tongues tease and slide against one another, the sensations they create working magic on the rest of her body, loosening all of her muscles and readying her for more than the penetration of his tongue into her mouth.
He eases her down, her robe flung - somewhere, her head now resting in the crook of his arm, the fingers of his free hand tracing up and down her ribs, edging lower and lower, leaving a trail of fire wherever they linger. His eyes are watching his hand on her and she lets her own gaze follow. He's ready for her once more and she wonders how she'll accommodate. A fretful sound voices itself.
He looks back up and catches the angle of her gaze. "I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but…we don't have to go all the way all tonight, as long as you're okay with the idea of us doing this again."
"Aiming for a second shot before knowing if the first one's hit the mark?" she teases before a sudden gasp escapes her, his hand sliding between her legs to fondle her.
"Just keeping the lady happy. I was told that's good practice." He quirks a brow at her.
"This...mmm...from the man who could- oh, that's good - hardly wait a while back. You're...amazing...uhhh...and as contradictory, as ever, Nobu," she fusses. He doesn't answer. "Who gave you this advice?"
He looks away for a bit, a half-smile on his face. "Shuusei. He was a funny kid."
"Funny, but reckless."
"So is this, but I want it. I want you, Akane."
She blushes in the dark at his blatant words of desire, something Inspector Ginoza would never do, but that Enforcer Ginoza does. And I don't mind one bit, she thinks, pushing off her inhibitions as her blood runs hotter and her body shivers from his attentions.
"I want it, too - it's just…"
"Just?"
"I didn't think you'd be so…gifted."
And that's when Ginoza Nobuchika laughs. Mirth is something she's never seen in him, but then so much has changed for them both in the last eight months, in ways neither of them could have predicted. And his less restricted emotions, while expected in the field, is a surprise here. He's left himself open to her, trusts her. Finally.
She's seen male bodies before, usually clothed and sometimes deceased, but not one this alive and warm and ready to do what kami intended. She reaches between them and takes him in hand. He stops all movement to take in and release a shuddered breath, reaching up to stroke her hair. She runs her hand in curiosity over his cock, memorizing its shape, the ridges, and the way it feels. He watches the way she touches him, his eyes wide with arousal.
It's impressive, she thinks, and then chortles to herself.
Nobu rasps, "Please don't do that when your hand is around my dick. Guys get complexes over things like that."
"You've no reason for that. You're beautiful. I mean, I'm rather naïve about a lot of things. I know that, but-"
"Uh, could we discuss this another time? 'Cause right now I'm finding it difficult to concentrate on stringing words together."
"I'm sorry," she says with genuine concern. He chuffs.
"Don't be sorry. Just make up for it."
"You'll have to show me."
"No problem," he growls, placing his larger hand over hers and guiding her touch.
His groans are fascinating to her. Seductive and surprising and uniquely his. She'll never hear him speak again without hearing them in her mind. But then, he suddenly stops moving their hands.
"What is it? Am I doing something wrong?" she says, worry in her visage as she looks up from her task.
He shakes his head, his breath continuing in small pants through his words. "No, no, no, no, no. But if we go on much more, I may lose it again and that's not the plan."
"No?"
"We can continue with lessons another time, but right now, I want to bury my head between your legs and make you feel something you can't do for yourself."
"What?" She's incredibly turned on and incredibly annoyed.
"I know you've touched yourself, Akane," he reproves. "No woman is that self-disciplined, but let's see which you prefer."
"No-bu," she says, with emphasis on the last syllable. She's aroused and annoyed and a little embarrassed at his effrontery. But mostly, aroused. Throughout their verbal exchange, he's been sliding down alongside her body, until his head is resting on the inside of her thigh. Her other leg is bent at the knee.
The tickle of his hair against the tender skin there sends quivers throughout her body, as her lower extremities tighten and she feels liquid heat pooling and seeping through her folds. She doesn't know what to expect, but she knows what she wants. His touch on her - there - somehow - right now.
Her skin blushes pink and rose with anticipation as she waits, his breath hot against her waiting flesh. What are you doing? This is no time for window shopping. Please, do something, now. She nudges her hips just a smidge towards him. His growl vibrates against her body and she's equally irritated and amused at his reaction.
And then she feels the tip of his nose nudge against her and she mewls her distinct pleasure at the sensation. So-o different than her own fingers or anything else she might find helpful in getting herself off. This is someone else doing this to me. A man I care about. A man who is, dear kami, using his tongue to taste me. All rational thought in the very rational Tsunemori Akane shuts down.
Her breaths are mixed with soft vocalizations of pleasure as he teases and taunts the hardening bud of her center. When his fingers find their way inside of her, providing counter-pressure to his mouth's steady attentions, she groans in spite of herself. Her exhalations only serve to incite his actions to greater fervency. It's like nothing she's ever felt before, sheer delight yet still not enough.
Her body tenses and coils rapidly, all sensation locked within a tiny bundle of nerves that begs for release. He curls the fingers inside her so that his thumb is by his chin. He alternates his teasing and suckling with intervals of his thumb circling hard upon her, her back arching in response to his actions, her hips moving to find this particular rub of pleasure or that unique spark on her skin. Her body is flexing like a bow under his control and she's grasping at the bedsheets.
Steady, hard breaths fill her lungs with the oxygen she needs to sustain awareness, her body alight everywhere with heat she knows he can feel radiating off of her. She's completely absorbed by sensation, focus intent only on gratification, when she feels the tipping point of orgasm.
When it's only herself, it fills her and dissipates. But now, with his continued stimulation, she rockets past the simple crest into more intense pleasure that carries her along like an unstoppable wave. Her cries are involuntary. She can't take it for more than a few extended, glorious seconds and then she pulls his hair upwards by the roots to gain his attention.
"Enough," she pants. "Please, no more. I can't...keep up. I..can't."
He stops and with a hard exhalation of his own, sweeps his hand across his mouth to taste her on his fingers. He moves up her body quickly, repositioning himself as he was before, this time entering her slowly, but steadily, past her cry of discomfort even as her spasms still ripple through her.
His head is above hers. He leans down and says beside her ear, "Bite me through any pain." She curls her arm around his and does, hard and steady against his bicep until she tastes copper and she knows she's broken skin.
oOoOo
It doesn't matter to Nobu. He's too immersed in finding his rhythm within her tight, untried channel; friction acting as an imperative as well as the sights and sounds of the woman below him, her legs now wrapped around his torso, her hands clutching his back, sliding with the sweat that sheens them both. Sweet goddess of mercy. Why the fuck did I put this off for so damn long? Feels…so…good.
Akane's mouth laves and sucks at the bruise she's given, providing milder, secondary sensations that will surely leave a mark. No matter to either of them. And then he is lost, just as she was. He's not vocal. Instead, he harnesses his energy into maintaining ecstasy, holding his breath to lessen the flow of oxygen to his brain for as long as he can, releasing it in a long, slow "ahhh" that seems to go on forever, his body growing more and more relaxed as air is expelled, until there is nothing.
He's spent. He takes in a great breath then releases before shifting onto his side next to her, mind empty of everything. Everything. Best therapy in the world, he thinks to himself before losing consciousness.
When next he opens his eyes, Nobu expects to be alone, on his cot at the Nona Tower. The first clue that he's not is the scent of vanilla and freesia. He hadn't noticed it last night but there it is. The bed is comfortable, too. He lifts the edge of the pillow off his face and the corner of his mouth twitches upward. He's still in Akane's bed, sheets rumpled around his body, Akane facing him, sleeping soundly. So it wasn't a dream.
He's managed to steal most of the bedcovers so she's naked but for a tumble of cotton that lay across her abdomen and thighs. He props his head on his hand and simply watches her. Her hair is mussed and her face is without makeup. Not that she needs any. The skin of her throat is so pale, he can see the blue veins that run just beneath the surface down her chest, branching into her small but adequate bosom. Enough for me. What was it Shuusei said? More than a mouthful is too much, anyway? He was right.
Thinking about how he felt inside Akane's body induces a soft groan, tempting him to wake her so they can indulge his newest addiction once more. He runs his tongue over his teeth. Ugh. Not before I'm a little more presentable. Under cover of dark is one thing, but daylight quite another.
He gets up feeling rested for the first time in ages. Naked, he pads into the postage stamp bathroom. Akane's robo appears. "Go away," Nobu scolds the perky machine, which retreats at once. He takes in a mouthful of water from where it runs from the faucet into the basin and spits before running a wet finger around his mouth. Not great, but it'll have to do. Modern sartorial techniques and the Ministry's dress code have made facial hair a non-issue. The headache in his frontal lobe is minor compared to others he's had after taking an AmTab. And he's strangely hungry even though he never ever eats breakfast.
He looks at Akane sleeping and decides not to disturb her. Sleep, like sex, is a blessing, indeed. He re-dons his clothes from the previous evening and makes his way to Akane's kitchen. The robo unit reappears asking about breakfast. He lets it make the decision for him based on his gender, age, height and weight.
"Robo, can you do more than prepare food or spiff up the décor?"
"I am capable of producing items you need provided their molecular structure is encoded in my memory and I possess a sample of organic matter similar in nature," Robo says.
Nobu hands the unit a square of diced green onion from his miso cup. "I want a rose - red, long stem, no thorns." Within less than a minute, Robo places the flower on the counter. "Thank you," he says picking up the perfectly formed bloom.
He heads back into the bedroom, reluctantly covers Akane and leaves the flower beside her, imagining what the others would say if they knew anything of what's transpired between them and especially, to see him play against type. I just never met a woman who deserved it the way she does.
Back in the living room, he calls the Nona Tower and requests a pick-up from Akane's address.
oOoOo
Akane's eyes open slowly, sensing at once that she's alone in her bed. Then she spies the rose. She smiles as she gives a long feline stretch and sits up, clutching the sheet around her body.
Her robe is tossed half-way across the room and two of the four bed pillows are on the floor. Nobu's clothing is gone which means he's already awake. The apartment is secured so he can't just leave, but something tells her that he isn't in her home.
She gets up and throws on the robe, heading into the living area. Nobu is nowhere to be found. A momentary flash of fear courses through her as she recalls the way he once chastised her for allowing Kougami to get beyond her reach, thinking he'd escaped the Ministry's hold. Has he done the same? Did he set all this up just to do this to me? But the rose?
The sting of hot tears burn her eyes at the thought of betrayal. Then she notices the light flashing on her home-com unit signaling an FYEO urgent message from HQ. She releases it and the message appears at eye-level.
Inspector Tsunemori,
Thank you for an excellent case review last evening. Your investigative skills and analysis of the situation continue to surpass my expectations. If you wish to discuss further, I am available. Robo let Inspector Kido into your apartment as a member of the MWPSB. He seemed out of sorts. Guess he doesn't like working Saturday mornings. Rookies.
Enforcer Ginoza
She shakes her head, the tears that squeeze from her eyes being those of relief. And then she chuckles imagining the conversation, or lack thereof, between Inspector and Enforcer as they headed back to the Nona Tower. She punches a text back to Nobu:
I do have a few ideas I think you'll want to hear. Just a hunch, but detectives are all about hunches, aren't they? I'll be at the front of the Nona Tower at six. Be on time or don't be there at all. I'll accept your choice.
She sends the message FYEO, just as he did, impatient to know what lay ahead for them, if anything. Maybe he'll be the one with morning-after second thoughts. As she eats her breakfast, the home-com unit signals a new message which she rushes to read.
Has this stray found a home?
Her mouth twists at his ironic self-deprecation. I could smack him. Or kiss him. It's one or the other and I suspect it'll always be that way. Did I just say always? She texts the Enforcer:
Do you want one? If so, I think we can work something out.
She sends, then second-guesses her decision. Is it too much too soon? C'mon, Akane. He asked. You answered. Within minutes, she knows his heart.
Koibito*, see you at six.
What am I going with you, Ginoza Nobuchika? And how are we going to manage this? Ohhh, just wait 'til I get you home. She leaves her trash for dis-integration and heads back into her bedroom to dress saying, "Robo? I need a bud vase with warm water and 500 milligrams of acetylsalicylic acid, please." And there, in the privacy of the sacred space of her bedroom, she remembers and smiles.
End - Chapter 4 - End Game
A/N: *The best English equivalent I could find is "sweetheart or lover." Seems both IC and OOC for Nobu, at this point, depending on your ship. Hope you enjoyed my head-romp for this pairing. Been an advocate from Episode One and never had *second thoughts.* Y'know, if you had told me fifteen years ago that one day I'd post online an extended erotic vignette between two futuristic Japanese detectives in a dystopian society, I'd have said, "There's no f'n way." But look, here it is! Damn. I can't wait to see what I write fifteen years from now. To paraphrase: I'll give you my keyboard, stylus, pen, whatever humanity is using to write, when you pry it from my cold, dead hands. ;D