The Gift that Keeps on Giving

Touya Kinomoto lifted his eyes from his desk by the window and looked out into the plaza below where a thin layer of frost covered the earth and still bare trees. It was that time of year between late winter and spring's debut, when temperatures were still low enough to snow, as it did last night. Rolling back the sleeve of his sweater—wool knit blue-green checkers and one size too large—he turned back to the task before him, red pen commenting and circling through papers not his own, two stacks totaling three inches to his left and right. Since he began an hour ago, he reckoned he had gone through a little over an inch. When he heard the light knock, he was thankful for the break.

"Come in." When he saw who came through the door, the thankfulness he felt a moment ago multiplied three fold. "Hello, I thought we weren't supposed to meet until later."

The girl with amethyst hair left her book bag on the floor and threw her arms around his neck. After she had settled into her designated spot, Tomoyo Daidouji leaned back a bit so she could look at him. "Am I in your way?"

Touya held up his hands as he grinned at his girlfriend who was seated fully across his lap to the protest of his aging swivel chair and preventing any kind of work from getting done. "I'm not complaining."

She smiled and leaned in once more, placing her cheek against the soft fabric hanging off his shoulder and produced a drawn-out sound of pleasure. "I knew it was a good idea to make this a bit roomy."

"A bit? You should hear what my colleagues had to say, something about amateur and expecting obesity."

Both of them knew that said colleagues couldn't be further from the truth, especially on the first count. "As long as you know it was by design and that they're just jealous."

"They would be, if I ever introduced you to them."

"So why don't you?"

"Don't want to stir up animosity in the workplace, but mainly because I want to keep you to myself." Nor did he wish the whole world to know—yet—that he was dating her little sister's best friend, a girl—young woman—seven years his junior and still in high school, though that would change in a few months. "How are the entrance exam preparations going? Can I expect to see you at one of my sections when April comes around, Miss Daidouji?"

The superior tone he employed was not lost upon her. "Don't you worry about me mister; any school you can get into, I can do better. Although, considering that you're already in the best university this country has to offer, I seem to have no choice but to go abroad in order to prove my point."

He had not thought of the possibility that she might leave Japan, though Aunt Sonomi brought it up a few times and the benefits associated with such a move. "Where would you go?"

She tilted her head and appeared to seriously consider. "England seems nice, I think mother would approve. I like the history, the music, plus there's Mizuki sensei and Eriol…"

"No."

A moment of uncomfortable silence followed, his large hands linked around the small of her back and her slender ones resting on his shoulders. When she spoke again, it was in a quiet measured tone. "Why not?"

Because there's un-dealt with baggage there, because I don't like the little bastard, because I've gotten used to having you around. "… The foods bad and the weather sucks."

He knows there's no hiding from her; her ability to look under his masks and see through his attempts at self deception was one of the reasons why he was drawn to her in the first place. Over time, he's also learned to count on that, as he was now; that she would see and understand how he truly felt, even though to the ordinary bystander he appeared merely as his stoic and secure self.

Her eyes—large, deep, always gentle and disarming, even in tense moments like these—held his for a long time until she raised her hands to cup his cheek and gave him the smile that he bathed in like the sun. "Don't worry, I won't leave you." Her thumbs drew slow circles beneath his eyes as she continued. "There's actually a draught going on there right now, but you're right about the food."

A simple reassurance, one his first love never gave him, too careful to even let it slip in casual dialogue or hushed murmurs… but it was unfair to compare the one sitting in his lap now to the one that belonged in the past, nor did it give Tomoyo the credit she deserved, so instead he unbuttoned her thick winter uniform jacket, enjoying the pretty flush on her face as he snaked his hands underneath, coming into contact with the thin fabric of her blouse and the inviting warmth that emanated from below.

She was at his mercy in no time, the two of them rocking and nearly toppling over as he tickled her mercilessly, ending the assault only when he remembered where they were, and that those passing in the hallway outside, including professors and others who mattered, might hear the noise they were making. Resting against his chest as she caught her breath, there was laughter and a teasing reprimand in her voice when she finally made her reply. "Very mature; I always knew you were a little boy inside."

"Says the little girl who started it." He felt her giggle at his mock pouting; it felt nice. "So, aside from providing the excuse for a welcome break and scaring me into thinking the world was coming to an end…" He covered her hand with his let her know the comment wasn't meant just to be witty. "What urgent business made my sunshine come find me here, in this dreariest of places?"

She beamed at him. Getting up to his slight chagrin, she hung up the jacket that he had unbuttoned halfway and came back with her book bag, from which she withdrew a small gift-wrapped box not much larger than his thumb and placed it on his desk. "Happy Valentine's day."

Thinking to himself that the size was rather small for a chocolate, his eyes widened when he unwrapped the package. "Lipstick?"

Tomoyo shook her head; he waited for an explanation, she extended her hand, and when he placed the cosmetic in her palm she removed the silver cap to reveal a pointed stub of dark maroon brown that smelled of cocoa and raspberry, which answered one question but not another. "You're not really expecting me to wear that, are you?"

"As fun as that would be to get on tape, no. See, this is how you use it. First you moisten the tip…" The back of his throat went dry when she laved the pointed surface with her tongue. "Then you apply a generous coat…" When she was finished, she placed the lipstick aside, a clear twinkle in her eye that was three parts shy and seven parts anticipation.

"Bon Appétit, Touya."

Rather than devouring the treat like the baser part of his instinct demanded, he started slowly, transferring some of the taste to his own lips after the initial meet and licked clean and repeated. It wasn't long before he decided this method was too slow, and took to drawing flavor from her proffered lips directly, alternating licks and gentle nips until all the extra flavor was gone except that which went back to her mouth in the increasingly heated exchange. When they parted, her eyes were heavy lidded and her face was red; drunk, as it were, with the too pleasant sensations that came from the giving that was also receiving. "So, did you like it?"

The tremble in her quiet voice fueled his appetite for her further, as did the speeding pulse in her wrist. "I think… I'll have another bite."

She picked up the lipstick, which he realized was merely one half of his gift, and prepared herself once more. "Have as many as you like."

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Forty five minutes later the lipstick was all used up, but the gift kept on giving, and Tomoyo learned that her boyfriend wasn't nearly as objectionable to sweet things as he made himself out to be, particularly when said sweet things were presented properly. When her head managed to cool enough to form speech again, she whispered close into his ear. "Does this mean I can look forward to something nice on White Day?"

She heard him mumble something like 'yes' before his mouth covered hers once more, giving her a taste of what was to come one month later.

End