WARNING: SMUT. Enjoy gals!
Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket.
Chapter 56: Simple Pleasures
Before he can reach for the doorknob, his heart pounding an ecstatic rhythm against his ribcage, Tohru reaches for his hand to stop him. "Won't someone see us?"
In all his haste, he's almost forgotten their pretense which could have dire consequences. Luckily, his cautious little flower has come to the rescue (when has he called her my that affection?).
"Yes." He chews on the bottom of his lip while he thinks of a solution. "Do you know how to get to the street corner where we dropped you off that morning?"
She nods keenly.
"I will wait for you there. Please be careful." Hesitant to let go of her hands, he presses a drawn-out kiss to her knuckles.
Tohru is the first to head down the darken hallway. There is a soft humming drifting in the air. When Tohru turns the corner to head down the stairwell, she spots a janitor mopping the floors. "Good night!" Tohru shouts cheerfully.
The older gentleman gives a gentle nod of acknowledgement in her direction. Humming the same haunting little tune herself, she walks down the stairs to the exit. As she makes her way across the dark campus, she notes the few stragglers around the library and a small line forming in front of the Yakisoba kiosk. She can see the chef wearing a peace-sign bandana high around his forehead, with a pair of scissors in one hand and a metal spatula in the other, like he's about the perform a magic trick. The smell wafting in the air is delicious – a wondrous blend of sweet onions, cabbage, and pork.
/
Hatori waits a few moments by organizing his desk which is bare except for his desktop monitor, his lecture notes, and his favorite ballpoint pen.
Finally, he leaves his office. Secret tryst with a student? Shigure would be a field day with that. In high school, he admitted his favorite word was 'forbidden.' Gosh, the dog was destined to become a 'forbidden romance author'. After walking three flights of stairs, he pushes through the metal door. The breezy spring air rushes to greet him, running through his hair like a pair of lover's hands. His keen noses makes out a mingling of onions and meat. Smells delicious. Hmmm, where am I going to take Tohru for dinner? With a few long strides, he reaches the edge of the parking lot. With eagerness, his car keys are already looped around his finger. Sidetracking him, a girl's voice drifts into his ears. Oh, how he wishes he could just disappear right now. Please, no more disruptions today!
"Professor Sohma?"
He spins around, trying to keep the disappointment off his face. Can he seriously get a break?
"Yes." He says, looking back at the pretty, willow-thin girl standing before him. She is hauling a heavy-looking large brown envelope under the crook of her arm. She is wearing a loose tank top tucked into a long slinky skirt, which emphasizes the 'S' shape of her body. He notices, but none of this gets a rise out of him. It's meaningless if there isn't a heart and mind to match.
"I was wondering if you could… hmmm, give me a ride to the dorms. They are just around the corner. I missed the bus and this canvas is terribly heavy." She looks up at him expectantly.
"I was wondering if you could just drop me off. I mean, if you are going in that direction and all."
Hatori looks at the direction she is pointing at. Indeed, he is going in that direction. And this is his student, he shouldn't be rude. He's been known to be disagreeable and cold, and he doesn't want this to get back to his colleagues and the other students. He could potentially be turned down for future opportunities. Fuck these conundrums!
"Yes. Fine." He says curtly, not wanting to extend the welcome. She hurries after his long strides. He kindly opens the door to the backseat of his car so the girl and her art project can fit inside.
/
Tohru waits patiently by the curb, moving a pebble around on the pavement.
"It's a small world, eh?" Says a mellifluous voice behind her. Tohru turns her head to catch sight off Shujii's killer smile – his pearly white teeth and the perfect arc of his lips.
Tohru nods shyly. "What are you doing here so late at night?" He looks around and sees that there is no bus stop sign either. Earnestly, he adds, "Do you need a ride?"
"No, it's alright." Tohru responds.
"Then I'll wait with you. I have nothing better to do." The true reason is because no woman should be out this late alone. And he doesn't fancy seeing Tohru get forcefully taken away by some criminal. (Yes, he's a fan of crime shows.) He's seen the way some guys can behave. Especially at his club.
He takes a seat on the fire hydrant with his legs spread, looking up at her with reverence.
"You don't have to." Tohru chimes in, bringing him out of his deep thoughts. "Don't you have the club to take care of?"
"Nightclubs aren't open on weekdays, silly."
"Oh sorry." Tohru says, feeling a sudden rush of blood to her cheeks.
"No problem, honest mistake." Every time I see you, I lose myself a little more. If you were mine, I would do everything for you. There's something about you that screams sadness and all I want to do is protect you. Save you. It sounds so silly. So girly. But I do.
Tohru's eyes suddenly turn bright. "How did Otsuka's chocolate gift go?"
"He did alright. They've been studying together at the library. Speaking of, there he is. I'm supposed to pick him up." Shuji waves to Otsuka who is walking toward them with a light gait. "Hey guys!" He shouts.
"Hey." Tohru and Shuji call out simultaneously. The three of them start of an easy conversation.
Finally, a black car pulls up curbside. It's nearly fifteen minutes. Hatori debated whether or not to approach them, but figured the two boys already knew about their relationship. And if they saw him in class, they'd make the connection anyway. Just another 'loose end' to keep track of.
"Here's my ride. Thanks for waiting up."
"No problem."
The two boys watch her safely climb into the passenger seat of the car. Shuji strains to see who the driver is, but the headlights are blinding. But he's about 90% sure it's that mysterious guy with the sideswept-hair-that-covers-his-eyes who doesn't speak.
/
Because of Tohru's unrelenting protest not to go to a 'fancy' restaurant, they end up at a mall food court that Tohru says she and her friends used to come to. It is slightly out of the way, but he doesn't mind at all. Tohru ends up with a vegetarian crepe, and at her insistence, Hatori gets a fruit jelly. Of course, Tohru is more considerate of him than herself. Typical.
Afterwards, he wants to walk around the town with her, but remembers her mention of homework. And after all, it's a school night. They scramble back into his car, pay the parking fee, and leave the city.
/
Hatori is hesitant to drop her off. It'll be next month before they have dedicated alone time again. Instead, he wants to whisk her away. Far, far away. To a secret place. Away from this all. Responsibility. Secrets. School. Students.
Countryside. That's something he really likes. Despite his fondness for the latest technologies and the extravagant city architecture, he wants that life. Simple. Free.
"I didn't get to tell you today, but you did a great job. Everyone loved you, especially the girls."
Hatori scoffs. "Yeah right."
"No seriously. There were like more than 100 extra people in the room. I've been in that lecture hall before and it's never at full capacity. It was a shock to see that many people – it was like overheated mosh pit – sorry for my disturbing imagery, but it's true. They are gonna need to replace the air conditioning in there if you continue teaching."
Hatori smirks before pulling to a sudden stop at the side of the road in the forest. There are very few cars that come out this way. Yet, it isn't quite countryside, because the brightness of the city still washes out all the stars at night.
"Huh?"
Their eyes meet, and despite the darkness, she can see the depths of his anguish-filled eyes. "Why are you sad?" She asks, her heart clenching painfully. She's learning how to read him without words. Her hands move up to his jaw, caressing the smooth skin with her thumb. Turning his head in her hold, he kisses the center of her palm. Her hand retracts quickly, shocked by his unexpected move. "Swear to me that I am the only one for you." Hatori says in a low voice.
The familiar stirring begins to churn in her stomach, that feeling that always arises when she is emotional or needy for his touch.
"I swear, you hold my heart. I will always be yours as long as you will have me." Tohru replies.
He brings his right hand to cup her jaw, mimicking her previous action. "How would I not want you? You've brought my happiness I could only dream of before. I can't say it right now, but know that you have evoked in me things that I thought were long dead. I thought I'd go on living like this - like a zombie, or a puppet, until Kami killed me out of my misery after I'd done all the duties required of me by Akito. But you give everything meaning. I'm not just some unfeeling Tin Man that everyone thinks I am. I need you. And I just….
Wait for me."
There is a pregnant silence between them as Tohru lets his words sink in. Why does he mention such morbid things? Doesn't he know how much life means?
"Of course. I love you too much to ever give you up." As long as you don't give me up.
He closes the small gap between them, kissing her with the urgency of a man on death row. It's hard and demanding. His tongue plunges into the depths of her mouth, tasting every niche, wanting to remember the feel of her. Tohru yields to his hasty movements, his hands moving up her waist to mold her breast with almost bruising pressure. He's shocked that she's not wearing a bra. The alpha in him wants to warn her to be careful of accidentally showing off her body to other men – the erect points of her breasts in the early morning cold, but he knows her too well. Her modesty is just another one of her vast number of admirable traits. She doesn't flaunt. It's not like he has a list he checks off, but with her, everything is perfect. No man needs to search any further. And that's what makes him sometimes jealous. Jealousy is something he doesn't have much experience with, and when it strikes, it's difficult to rein in. In recent months, it has twisted his heart and made his brain hurt as all the worst-case scenarios play out before him like a dreadful slideshow.
His hand searches in the dark for hers. When it finds her small soft hand, he places it flat against his chest, over his thumping heart. "It's yours." He says during a momentarily break between their mouths. She immediately leans in to kiss him with equal fervor. A little part of her is terrified at their recklessness, and the week-long trip that is bound to be an emotional roller-coaster and have her needing his touch. His hand drops from hers, bunches her skirt up at her waist, and dips in between her thighs. Luckily, she's wearing a skirt today because he could not handle the slower movements of undoing her pants.
Finding her too far away from him, in the passenger seat an arm's length away, he adjusts his seat to move backwards. "Come over me." He says gruffly. It never ceases to excite him, that he is the only one to do this to her. He's the one who taught her this simple, primal pleasure.
She does so, moving over him swiftly so that her legs are on either side of his, straddling him, spread over him. They've done this before, in the car. As his fingers fumble to seek out her slick heat, he inadvertently touches her naked flesh which is covered with goose-bumps. His gentle touch has the same effect as a feather and causes her to quiver over him uncontrollably. She bends her forehead onto his shoulder for stability. His fingers slip past her curls into her folds to caress the slippery little pearl. Just touching her arouses him - his hard length is pressed uncomfortably in his pants. He moves in his seat to let his tented trousers touch her so she knows. Her eyes flutter open and look into his. His face is slightly lower than hers since she's on her knees over him, and she feels strong. Even though she is probably the one who needs this the most, at least she knows that he is somewhat needy of her too. He strokes tight circles around her, until she is quaking and wet and super sensitive to the point where she lifts up from his hand. "I don't want to come too fast," she murmurs shyly, despite the pulsing desire that is coursing through her. Pure torture. This is what they call 'pleasure and pain.' Her words send him into a personal hell. He's going to come in his pants soon if he doesn't get inside her. She drops her lips over his again, and wraps her arms around his neck for support. His fingers find her nub and begin their expert ministrations again. Her fingers are twisting in his hair at the nape of his neck and he catches all her soft moans into his mouth, like they are some elixir, or drug.
As she edges toward her release, her lower half begins to move, begging for more of his touch. Her eyes lose focus as she tilts her head back, completely enveloped in her lover's embrace and delicate touch. As he continues to caress her, his other hand curls around her back, steadying her. All her rational thought has jumped to its death, leaving her stranded, pleasure seeking, wanton. Before she can gather her current limited vocabulary together to say something to him, a warning of some sort, she is sailing over the brink of rapture and release. He senses her impatience just in time, can feel the shorter intervals of her slickness rubbing over his fingers, and whispers into her ear, "Come for me."
And she does (his voice alone can drive her to insanity), stifling her cries into his shoulder, every muscle in his body tenses, needing her. His hand slips away, knowing that any further action against her too sensitive clit would be painful. He doesn't have time and uses one hand to lift her up enough for him to remove his constricting pants. His eager cock springs out of his boxer-briefs right has he strips the cotton material down his legs. It is painfully hard and very eager to feel her silken walls pulsing around him as he slides in and out of her in a hurried pace. Just has he rises to meet her, she slides down on him. Entering her in such a fashion makes his mind fizzle - no more thinking, no more doubts.
"Do you want me?" He asks sincerely.
She doesn't respond because she is too busy moving over him, wanting to give him as much pleasure as she can, completely lost in sensation. "Please answer me. Do you want me?" He repeats, struggling to hold back. He needs to hear that she wants him, that she wants his. He's a hypocrite. He needs her vocalization, her acknowledgement, acceptance, yet he expects her to stay with him despite not being able to say those three blasted words.
Before he loses himself in the negative thoughts creepy into his mind like ivy, she touches her cheek against his and whispers the exact word he needs to hear. "Always." And she murmurs, "I love you, Hatori."
/
A/N: 5.31.2013 - Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Thank you to all the loyal readers out there! Leave a message so I can personally thank you. :)
Kouga's older woman: Thanks!
Mcangel1976: H is a true beast (in eating)! Yes, misunderstandings galore! I live for those (and male jealously *fangirl-ing*)
Tsukiakage: Love you, girlie! Hehe, let's spoon. I love it!
Phenylephrine: Ah, your nose bleeds are adorable (awkward silence if this is read out of context) - *hands you the softest tissues ever* - I'm glad you are enjoying the story! I love you dear!
Traceless-Poison: Hehe, -hides all sharp objects so you won't harm Ha'ri- I still have lots more to go (still haven't reached climax yet), so as long as I have enthusiastic readers, I will write! (p.s. I've seen stories with over 1 mil words… crazy… I won't go that far…) Shuji appeared, eh? Answering your wishes. ;) Yes, if you remember my words from the previous chapter there will be reason for a 'family' get together… hint: violent gardening. And yes, I'm female. :)
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