Author's Note: Third chapter and then I need to write Neya's chapter.
Chapter 25. Utsuho - Feverish Heat
Dryness as rough as sand in his throat and mouth woke Utsuho. His entire face burned uncomfortably and his body was so cold and shivering, instantly forcing him to snuggle into whatever was keeping him warm despite his aching limbs. he was waking up enough to notice a blanket was tucked over him and there was a heat source to his left. Utsuho's fogged mind crept further into clarity, wondering what could be such a large and warm thing as well as being so immobile. A person, perhaps?
The itsuwaribito was beginning to recall the game with the tengu on the mountain. Chouza and Minamo and Akane were with him at that time…no, the person beside him did not feel like either one of the first two. He internally groaned thinking about Akane clinging to him again. His eyes blearily opened, dim candlelight burning his retinas.
"Looks like you're finally awake, Utsuho-kun. Thank goodness, I was starting to worry," sighed a feminine voice in relief. He stared into large, reddish-brown eyes framed by soft cherry-blossom colored hair. If his face were not already undoubtedly red, Utsuho would be blushing outrageously. "Are you feeling any better?"
"Wha— how did you get here? Did you lose, too?!" Utsuho asked, now comprehending that they must be in the tengu's stronghold. Worry burrowed in his chest for the girl more than his own current state, no, probably compounded by his current state; even though he was there with her when she got into danger again, Utsuho could barely help her bedridden. He lifted his head to swivel his gaze to the rest of the room, expecting to find all of the others sans Hikae and Iwashi. Dizziness washed over him without any one of their companions in the room. No luck setting up an escape plan with the others then. Neya's hand cupped his face and gently brought it back down to his pillow.
"Calm down, Utsuho-kun. Yakuma-san told me you cannot be moving about immediately," Neya said softly. "We passed our trial, so the tengu invited us as guest to their home. The one we met mentioned that we would be able to find you and the others in their custody."
"You passed, huh? Good job, Neya," he said, proud of her yet ashamed of himself for his own failed trial and subsequent saving by the person he sought to save. "Were you able to find the child?" he asked, remembering the cause of all this.
Neya, for her part, had gone from surprised and blushing (maybe? as long as his fever was not messing with his vision) to downcast. "No, we searched the mountain a bit more before coming here and even asked the tengu and they said they had not come across a child in the woods fro months now."
"That certainly seems odd given that they immediately picked up on our trespassing. Someone may very well be lying to you."
"Never mind that for now," Neya said. "You need to focus on recovering from your fever. Here's some water," she put a small teapot with its spout to his lips, tilting the cool water into his mouth and relieving some of the dryness.
However, a new dryness took hold as his companion shifted against the length of his body. Her lithe and supple figure was wreaking havoc on his insides and he could not help to notice the front of her thighs against his hip, the gentle and shapely curves of her breasts settled on his shoulder, and his left hand when he moved it brushing between her knees and next to the edges of those little black shorts she wore.
"Sorry!" he said, attempting to pull his hand away from such a dangerously tempting place.
"Whatever for, Utsuho-kun? It's just a brush of skin between friends," Neya purred. Was it the fever just now or did she just transform into a sultry seductress? A delicate hand rested on his chest without a care in the world. He felt it more keenly with his undershirt being the only barrier between their skin. "Rest well, Utsuho-kun. You should be warm enough now even without me." Neya smirked at his prone form as she slid out of his reach, much to his disappointment as arousal shot through him emphasized by the sensual shifting she did when withdrawing her warmth from the length of his body. He sorely missed the contact of her body upon his…
Just like that, Utsuho was abandoned to watch his feminine caretaker—and mental torturer—saunter out through the sliding door. He was left with nothing to do but sleep, where his treacherous mind quickly went about dreaming of Neya in sweet, pleasurable ways. Most of this revolved around a continuation of his "treatment".
Silky kimono sleeves dragged deliciously along his chest downward, where it ached so horribly. His body was too clothed, too covered in blankets and not covered enough by Neya. A solitary finger alighted on his hip bone drawing little circles over the fabric.
His breathing hitched. Above him, he met with molten reddish-brown eyes, half-lidded and pupils dilated. A teasing smirk danced on her lips looking as though she were to devour him, and Utsuho was completely at her mercy. He hoped she devoured him. Bound breasts pressed into him intimately as she held his gaze while that mischievous finger roamed closer to his groin, now pained and hard against his hakama.
"You appear troubled, Utsuho-kun?" Dream Neya purred into his ear, breathy words sending lust down his spine. "Flesh touching flesh should not matter between friends." Real Neya's words echoed in his dream, as tauntingly as the first, fanning his lustful imagination hotter.
He found himself answering in his mind what he wished he had said. "No, not just friends, Neya. Us touching would matter."
"Really, Utsuho-kun? After all, you did completely ignore my confession that day," she said seriously.
His reply was lodged in his throat. True regret pressed upon him, and he wondered what would have been had he answered her that day after dealing with the puppet master. He could have said "yes" but would he have been ready? Likely not. And if he said "no", it would have estranged them terribly and allowed her to move on from him. "Neya—"
"Hush, Utsuho," she said, dropping the suffix affectionately. Dream Neya's face was more serious than it had ever appeared. The hurt he saw in her no doubt reflected the hurt Real Neya endured because of his callous indecision. "Now, where were we?" her expression returned to seductive in the blink of an eye, the moment seemingly never having occurred.
The hand that lingered on his hakama sprang back to life with a mission. Fingers slipped under the rim of his pants, stroking his skin into a hotter fever than his waking self suffered. The subtle sharpness of fingernails scratched rivers of sensation upon his member in that member, his hips jerking up and fox-slanted eyes wide open and intense upon the succubus of his making. Utsuho's great was labored, he couldn't get enough air despite his best efforts to pump his lungs as hard as possible.
Dream Neya smirked down at him and licked her bottom lip. The moist shine there incited other images in Utsuho's perverted mind and Dream Neya's ministrations grew bolder in turn. Full palm and fingers enclosed upon him delightfully, finally drawing a groan from his throat.
"Good boy, Utsuho-kun," Dream Neya cooed. She was so pleased with his reactions that she sat further up and began to use her other hand to tug at her simon down her shoulders.
His dreams always began to undress Neya from the shoulders, but it never lessened how beautiful he found them. However, his Dream Neya never really showed him more than that and a bit of leg. He certainly hoped with Real Neya's actions that that would finally change.
Sufficiently exposed from the neckline up, Dream Neya stopped her undressing to his dismay. Instead, she reached for his nearest hand and brought it up to her chest. Her hand helped cup his over her breast in its entirety. Soft yet firm, warm in his hand, a hardened nipple pressed into his palm. The itsuwaribito's usually deft hands paused to take in the feeling, adjust to it. A small squeeze, then another. It was only through her kimono and bindings, but he could hardly believe he was allowed to go this far.
His and her ministrations intensified, although Utsuho appeared to be the only one affected by it at all. Through his pleasurable haze, he though of giving her the same pleasure she granted him. Taking control of the dream, Utsuho removed his hand from her breast—albeit regretfully—and halted her hand's movements on his member, pulling it free. Dream Neya looked at him puzzlingly.
"What—?"
Utsuho sat up, now looking down at her cherry-blossom hair, wide-eyes, and worried lips. He held her hands, carefully and preciously. "Neya…" Lust and passion put aside, Utsuho beheld her as she truly was to him and him alone: a gentle light of compassionate beauty, a soul drawn to his own through odd twists of chance—he did not subscribe to the belief of "fate"—feeding his spirit kindness and love he had never known and unknowingly needed. How could it have taken him so long to properly appreciate such emotions, such intangible gifts given from the early days of their companionship? How could he express these new findings of his heart?
The breadth of space between them begged to be closed, so he acquiesced to his gut instinct and leaned forward. Dream Neya no longer bore a single shred of the seductress she had been playing earlier; the innocence and guile returned to her visage, perplexity scrunching her eyebrows. Closer and closer his face inclined toward hers.
"Utsuho."
His eyes blearily opened a second time that day, if the day was the same which he felt it was, still in the same room Neya had left him in except she was absent with Yakuma in her place.
"How are you feeling? I wanted to give you some medicine before going to meet with our hosts," said the doctor.
This time, he easily recalled what his situation was. "Meeting with the tengu, huh?"
Author's Note: Hope you liked it? I added in the last part with the dream and meeting bit in the past couple of days. Kudos to those who see more than just a shameless excuse to be slightly smutty and then cheat out on it. There was actual meaning to what occurred in Utsuho's dream.