as always, thanks to my beta Irritablevowel. Check out her amazing HaruMichi fic called Breaking Down.
"Things are looking great," Mamoru says, causing the girls on the School Festival Planning committee to blush and giggle with delight.
The courtyard of Azabu is absolutely transformed from the usual manicured lawns and orderly walkways into a chaos of half-formed booths and students running around in all directions, shouting greetings and orders at each other as each club prepares their offering for the festival the next morning.
Mamoru is acutely aware that Usagi is at the Art Club's table, and forces himself to concentrate on planning aspects and not her proximity, but he can't help sneaking glances and marveling at how adorable she looks trying to keep a folding chair open as it keeps toppling over on her.
"Okay, got that end?" Mika asks, holding up the banner on one end, as Usagi struggles to lift her arms above her head to line it up with the taller girl's side.
"Kinda?" Usagi answers, shifting her feet on the stubborn folding chair that had been thwarting her efforts at setup all day. As if it senses her annoyance and takes offense, the chair buckles beneath her feet and she tumbles backwards into something warm and firm.
It takes her a few seconds to realize someone has caught her from behind, arms under hers and chest pressed against her back. It takes her a few more to realize it's Mamoru. Immediately her mind short-circuits. She tilts her head back to look at him (and mentally congratulates herself for not dwelling on how good it feels to be this close to him).
He gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart fall into her stomach. "Hi."
"Hi," she answers and just blinks into his impossibly blue eyes for a second or two longer before jumping back to reality. "Erm." she finds her feet, finally, and stands, turning to face him. She notices they have an audience - her near disaster and enviable fall into the class president's arms causes a flurry of interest from the students - but she can't seem to look away from his gaze.
Then Mika runs over, apologizing profusely and Usagi waves off her concern. The fall was nothing, Usagi is used to that, but she's still reeling with the sheer unexpectedness of finding herself in her crush's embrace - if only for a few short, blissful moments.
Mamoru clears his throat, taking the moment Usagi's talking to Mika to compose himself as best he can. He can still feel the place where her silky hair had brushed against his neck.
"Things going well with the booth?" Mamoru says, all business. "Let's get some help for that banner..."
A couple taller kids from the planning committee take over hanging the banner, with the Art Club president and Mika supervising.
"So, you guys are doing face painting?" Mamoru asks Usagi, and she nods and smiles.
"I'm kinda nervous to be honest," she says. "I'm used to doodling and such on paper but not really on skin." She twists a strand of hair around her finger, and the movement hypnotizes Mamoru a bit.
"Well, anything I can do to help-" he says, without really thinking and is rewarded with a bright, mischievous smile that both delights and terrifies him.
"You wanna let me practice on you?" she asks, and it becomes clear he really has no say in the matter when she takes his hand and starts pulling him through the crowd. "The paints are in the art room."
"I, uh...," he has a million things he can say - that he's needed here, that he doesn't want to walk around with face paint on for the rest of the evening, that Usagi could practice on anyone and why not Minako or Ami? - but the feel of her hand in his freezes the words on his tongue. He'd follow her anywhere.
Soon she has him seated on a stool in the art room, which is empty except for the two of them. She gathers face paints and brushes and a cup full of water and places them on the paint-splattered table in front of him.
"What do you want?" Usagi says, tapping her lip with the top of the paintbrush.
"Something small." Mamoru says, "I gotta take the bus home."
She giggles, "I'll wipe it off when I'm done, jeeze. You like cats, right? I'll do a cat."
The late afternoon sun sends long shadows into the room, and the only sounds Mamoru hears for a while are Usagi's soft breathing and every so often a swish of water as she rinses her brush.
The paint is cool against his cheek, but not unpleasant. Every so often, Usagi leans over and her hair falls across his lap, and her breath stirs the hairs by his ear, and sometimes her knees bump against his legs. Her soft vanilla scent is everywhere. Mamoru is so busy trying to figure out if he'd died and found his way to heaven, that he almost jumps when Usagi starts talking, even though her voice is softer than usual.
"Hey, Mamo-chan?"
Her back is toward him as she rinses the brush.
"Yeah?" he manages to answer, and is instantly embarrassed about how obviously thick with desire his voice is.
"Remember how when we were little..." she pauses, "how sure we were that we were meant for each other?"
"I remember."
"It's kinda of silly, now isn't it?" She shakes the brush over the cup and sets the cup down. "How much we swore we loved each other."
"I don't think so," he says and she gives him a wary smile.
"You are going to have to stop that, Mister!" Usagi says, pointing her brush at him in an admonishing manner.
Mamoru smiles a little, anticipating some sort of Usagi-antic that usually makes him laugh. "Stop doing what?"
"Being so nice to me," she says, and her eyebrows knit for a second. She pushes him on the shoulder with her free hand. "It's not fair!"
This time Mamoru does chuckle a little, as her deceptively strong little push almost makes him lose his balance on the stool. He grabs her arm for support, pulling her a bit closer in the process.
"What do you mean, not fair, Odango Atama?"
"Because I never stopped!" Usagi pulls away and picks up the water cup, face beat red.
At his questioning glance, she sighs defeatedly. "I never stopped ... thinking we were meant for each other. And when I came to Azabu and saw you again...," She swirls the paintbrush in the cup, not bringing herself to look at him. "I realized I still love you. So much. It's stupid."
"It's not," he insists, standing from the stool and taking a step toward her. "Usako, it's not stupid."
"But you're Chiba Mamoru!" she insists, rolling her eyes toward the windows, a reference to the group of admirers in the courtyard.
"And you're Tsukino Usagi," he said easily, as if the was the simplest thing in the world.
"Mamo-chan, I..." Her heart feels like it'd beat out of her chest, or shatter with the sheer weight of how much she cares for him. His hand finds her waist and pulls her slightly closer.
He leans down as she looks up, and their noses bump for a moment, causing Usagi to almost stumble backward, the water cup and paintbrush still in her hands. Mamoru's hand on her back steadies her, and for a moment they just look at each other, her gaze surprised and open, his eyes glittering under half-closed lids.
His leans toward her in a slightly clumsy, questioning way, and she tilts her head up in response and finally finally his lips press against hers.
She can't help the sound she makes - a squeak of surprise, of delight. His free hand caresses her cheek, gently lifting her face for better access to her lips. The slip of her lip balm is sweet, and when her mouth opens under his gentle urging the feelings that rush to Mamoru's head almost upend him.
Then suddenly, the paintbrush and cup fall from Usagi's hands and splash onto the floor.
"Oh!" She steps back and surveys the mess with a flustered expression. From outside, some voices are calling for Mamoru.
"Let me help you-" he starts but she waves him off.
"No you should go back out there, I've kept you long enough." She runs a hand through her bangs and tries to think. Paper towels! yes... she needs paper towels. On her way to the sink she spots the wipes and whirls again, almost crashing into Mamoru. "I need to wipe the cat off your face..."
He catches her hand, his thumb running against the soft skin of her palm and making her feel faint. "Don't," he says, that half smile back on his face, "I want to keep it."
Despite herself, her gaze fixates on his lips - and it doesn't escape his notice. The way she's looking at him overwhelms his senses for a moment, until the voices outside calling his name get too loud to ignore.
"Go!" she pushes him a little. "I'll clean up in here."
Back outside the students are waiting for his approval to head home. Minako greets him with a toothy grin.
"Hey, Chiba," Minako says. "Nice cat. Usagi's handiwork?"
With a start Mamoru realized he'd never even gotten to see her artwork, and makes a mental note to check a mirror as soon as possible, before it smudges.
He manages a nod before Minako cheerfully continues, "Ready for us to kick your butts in the girls vs boys soccer match tomorrow?"
Mamoru gives a half shrug, "Actually, the planning committee had something a little different in mind for me-" He gestures behind him, where a contraption sits with a seat rigged to an arm and a button, and a currently empty water tank.
"A dunk tank booth!" Koizumi says cheerfully, short hair bouncing as she nods her head. "It's the first one ever here at Azabu! And I think the class president is definitely a good choice for the first to go!"
Running a hand through his hair, Mamoru laughs a little, hiding his embarrassment at being the center of attention yet again.
"If you really wanted to raise money, you could do a kissing booth," Minako says with a sage nod, taping her finger on her chin.
Although she is obviously joking, Mamoru blanches at the absolute horror of the very thought.
"C'mon, how much would you pay to have your precious first kiss with none other than the most sought-after guy in school?" Minako addresses the girls in the group, who blush and giggle in response.
Done cleaning the art room, Usagi comes up to the edge of the group and is glad no one can see her face burn with the knowledge of how close Minako's words are to the recent events in the art room - although, did that count as a their first or second kiss? Because, although the sweet peck on the lips all those years ago is still so, so precious to her, the passionate urgency of his mouth on hers just a few moments ago had blown the previous kiss completely out of the water.
Pondering this occupies Usagi's thoughts for a bit, and it takes a moment for her to realize she's being spoken to.
"Usagi, are you gonna be the first to dunk Mamoru tomorrow?" Minako asks, and Usagi regards the booth with wary curiosity.
"My aim is terrible," she says finally.
"I'm counting on it," Mamoru says, with exaggerated relief. Although he takes his job as student body president seriously, he always felt he lacked that ease of connection with his classmates that Usagi and Minako seem to have in spades. Yet somehow, when Usagi is part of the crowd, he finds himself relaxing a bit, being more open and even joking in a way that he never did before. It had the unfortuate consequence of skyrocketing his popularity which he isn't sure what to do with.
He meets Usagi's eyes and she can't help her smile or her blush. He has to stay after with the planning committee so Usagi heads home with Minako at her side, but can't help craning her neck to keep Mamoru in her vision until she turns the corner at the school gates. Her lips still tingle at the thought of his kiss, and her heart is racing with what might happen tomorrow.