AN: Jumanji! I mean, uh, Happy New Year!

I apologize to Tamahome lovers, I don't intend to keep giving him the shaft in this fic, but it keeps happening. I guess its fair though. He had the whole series to explore his feelings for Miaka. And Suzaku help me, eight people is a lot of emotion to manage. I'm trying to keep it fairly balanced as the story allows, but I'm already over 100,000 words, which is a standard YA novel length.

I have really kind of fallen in love with adult Chiriko. Therefore, I must torture him.

Art of Love

Chapter 19

Red Courage

The conversation and revelry continued well into the afternoon when Tamahome reluctantly returned to work, leaving the other five Seishi with Miaka. Nuriko mournfully watched him go. Something had changed in Tamahome. Either the alcohol had loosened up the usually stiff warrior, or he was changing his mind about the implications of Miaka having relations with the rest of them. He'd been almost…fun!

Nuriko resolved to investigate more on that when he had the chance. Right now, he had to help Miaka and Chiriko in any way he could. If left to their own devices, the ceremony would never be completed.

Even after Nuriko's earlier coaching, Chiriko was hopeless. Despite now being of age with Tasuki and Tamahome, the genius deferred to the rest of them older siblings. He'd barely said a word all day, preferring to stare at Miaka when he thought she wasn't looking.

The others were no help; Hotohori and Tasuki were still pleasantly tipsy. A fact that highly amused Nuriko, except for the fact that the both of them were rather shameless in seeking Miaka's attention.

As the oldest, Chichiri had taken it upon himself to keep order in the manor. Thus, he was the only sober one and having a difficult time with his self-appointed task as he tried to wrangle Hotohori and Tasuki back into the kitchen to have a word with them. However, Miaka was seated between the two of them on the couch and neither one was picking up on Chichiri's increasingly blunt hints.

Finally, Nuriko decided he needed to step in. Donning his sweetest falsetto tone, he swooped in and grabbed Miaka by the hand. "Miakaaaa. I just have to show you something! Come with me!"

Chichiri shot him a grateful look and Nuriko smirked. Sometimes being thought of as Miaka's girlfriend wasn't all that bad. It made it all the easier for him to steal Miaka from the others when he needed to.

"What?" Miaka followed him trustingly. Too trustingly. Nuriko mentally slapped himself when he caught himself planning out how to use this to his advantage in the future.

"The ceremony with Chiriko is going to be largely up to you," he squeezed her hands. "Are you ready?"

Blindsided by his abrupt question, Miaka nodded slowly. "I think so. Why? Did Chiriko say something?"

"No. I just thought you should know that he's a little nervous, so you might need to lead a little more than usual, okay?" Adding under his breath, "And a lot of time."

"I kind of knew that," Miaka said. "Do you have any ideas?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Nuriko produced a pair of reading glasses from out of nowhere. They looked suspiciously like the ones Hotohori had been wearing the other morning. "Wear these. I tell ya, the kid'll go nuts." He chuckled lowly, sliding the glasses into place and twisting her hair into a messy bun. Unsatisfied, he pulled several strands out to arrange them artfully around her face. Once that was done, he stepped back to study her critically. "Perfect."

"You just like dressing me up, don't you?" Miaka shook her head, tsking under her breath.

"I do. I really do." He winked outrageously at her. "And one day, I'll get to reap the benefits." He waved her away. "Now go. Be a sexy librarian. Seduce the young ingénue."

"Nuriko!" Miaka's jaw dropped, aghast.

"I kid, I kid." Waving her off with a manic giggle, Nuriko said, "You'll hardly have to do a thing!"

"What about the others?" Miaka asked. "It's the middle of the day!"

Nuriko shooed her towards the stairs. "Leave everything to me. You just go upstairs and freshen up. Give me fifteen minutes."

"Where are we going again?" Tasuki complained as Nuriko sped down the street away from the manor. Nuriko grinned; he'd invited the boys out for the afternoon, hoping to give Chiriko and Miaka the extra time they would need to complete the next part of the ceremony.

"To my office. And then I thought we could go out for a bit. Maybe shop? Either way, I'm not wasting this outfit. People need to see me."

Hotohori nodded in agreement. "Being beautiful can be such a chore."

"And then," he added, "I thought we could go out for dinner."

"We just ate, no da," Chichiri pointed out. "You're almost as bad as Miaka!"

Miaka couldn't believe it.

Somehow, some way, Nuriko had managed to get the others out of the house. In fifteen minutes. Normally, this would have been a very sweet gesture from one Seishi to another, but something seemed…off.

Like the fact Chiriko was nowhere to be found.

She'd wanted to get her last Seishi alone so they could create the sort of bond she had with the others. But the young genius hadn't exactly made it easy. Miaka had tried several times to speak to Chiriko more directly during brunch but, every time, one of the others either interrupted or Chiriko himself deflected her attention onto someone else. Now he'd even disappeared when Nuriko and the others left, forcing Miaka go looking for him.

That's when she found the note, hastily scrawled in Nuriko's handwriting. "Check upstairs?" Miaka sighed. She hadn't exactly signed up for a scavenger hunt today.

The upstairs was just as empty as the downstairs. All the doors to the other bedrooms were closed. A light thud sounded and Miaka froze, a tingle shooting up her spine. Where had that come from? The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she crept further down the hall to Chiriko's room. What was that muffled hum?

Curiosity, as usual, taking the place of her better judgment, Miaka cracked open the door and gasped, letting the door swing the rest of the way open as she took in the sight before her.

Chiriko was there, bound to a chair. He slumped against his bonds at first, staring up at her in helpless rage. Upon seeing her standing in the doorway, his entire countenance shifted. The bridge of his nose reddened, and the rage drained from his face into a strange mute silence.

Why is he looking at me like that? Oh. Her brain finally caught up with what she was seeing and leaped into action, frantically loosening the handkerchief gag to ask, "Are you alright?"

Spitting the handkerchief out, his face the shade of a cherry tomato, Chiriko couldn't seem to get the words out. Eventually he managed a strangled, "I'm fine. He just surprised me is all."

"I can see that!" A book lay open at his feet. Miaka set it aside without looking at it, and untied his ankles, which had been secured with a pair of scarves.

The chair Chiriko was tied to was sandwiched between the desk and the bed in such a way Miaka was forced to lean over Chiriko awkwardly to free his hands, bound with what seemed to be Nuriko's tie. "Sorry," she muttered, trying to keep the glasses from sliding down her nose, belatedly realizing the movement put her chest directly in his face.

Once free, Chiriko scooted the chair back a few inches, huffing, "Why would Nuriko do something like this?" He was all indignation as he rubbed circulation back into his wrists.

"Why does Nuriko do anything?" Miaka shook her head, taking a closer look at the book. It was the borrowed copy of the Kama Sutra, color coded tabs lined the pages where before there had been none. On the cover was a sticky note in Nuriko's writing that read: Punish him for vandalism!

Managing not to sputter out loud, Miaka thought maybe she'd play along. For a few minutes. Just to see what would happen. "Did you tab the Kama Sutra?" She lowered the glasses a smidge, peering seriously at him over the rims.

Miaka didn't think it was possible, but Chiriko managed to turn a deeper shade of red, looking away. Anywhere but at her. "Yes, I did."

Miaka frowned, pushing the glasses up again. These were definitely Hotohori's. They were too big for her face. There were several sticky notes on the wall, all various directives in Nuriko's handwriting. Among them, were encouraging phrases such as, YOU GOT THIS or JUST DO IT. Complete with a smiley face and a heart, XOXO.

She hated to admit it, but Nuriko's plan—which he had failed to discuss with her at all—was actually a pretty good one. He'd gotten her and Chiriko alone, and played to the youngest Seishi's proclivities.

Taking a steadying breath, Miaka decided now she might as well run with it. There was no use in wasting a setup this perfect. "Chiriko," Miaka scolded, "you know better than that! I'm afraid I'm going to have to fine you for the book."

"I'm sorry, Miaka." His voice was quiet as he made to stand, but Miaka held out a hand to stop him. Behind him, a sticky note in Nuriko's feminine scrawl demanded in all caps: BE THE AGGRESSOR.

"Are you?" Miaka tilted her head, peering down her nose at Chiriko as he licked his lips nervously, adams apple bobbing with the motion. His expression gave her a sense of power unlike any she'd ever felt before. Her chi flared and the shimmering halo that surrounded Chiriko lit up like a Christmas tree in response.

Sprawled haphazardly in the desk chair, Chiriko swallowed and whispered, "So very sorry." His posture was meek and open. She almost wanted to bundle him up and apologize, but the sudden obvious bulge in his pants said he was enjoying this more than he let on.

"You've been a bad boy," Miaka did her best to imitate what she imagined a sexy librarian would sound like, tapping the book heavily against her hand. She must have done okay, because Chiriko's breathing sped up, his chest visibly rising and falling with each breath. His eyes were wide, pupils dilating as far as they would go as she closed in on him.

"I can pay for it," his voice came out in a whimper as Miaka set aside the book, hiking her skirt up to sit in his lap.

Chiriko squeaked, his hands coming up to rest tentatively at her waist. Everywhere they touched, their energy merged, running along the surface of their skin like fire.

Caught up in the role of seductress, Miaka released Chiriko's shirt to drape her arms around his neck and press herself against him. He smelled of cheap soap and body spray. To really drive the fantasy home, she gripped the lapels of his button up shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Teasingly, Miaka nibbled at his lower lip, sweetly requesting entrance with her tongue.

Her heart thrilled when Chiriko responded. His movements were unsure, like he hadn't kissed anyone for a while. Or ever. But it wasn't long before his shyness melted away and he jumped in with both feet.

His kisses went from shy to sloppy and forceful, his mouth slanting heavily over hers in clumsy excitement that after a few moments of practice became simply impassioned. He sure was a quick study! Miaka hummed happily against his lips, enjoying Chiriko's surprisingly strong hands as they kneaded her back and shoulders, leaving trails of gooseflesh in their wake.

It was Miaka's turn to squeak when he leaned forward, easily tilting her backwards in his lap to pin her uncomfortably between himself and the desk. She pushed at him a little, trying to get his attention and loosen his hold. Chiriko only tightened his grip, adjusting her on his lap so his erection was pressed right up against her. Miaka couldn't tell the difference between his chi and his body heat any longer. The enthusiastic thrusts of his tongue made it difficult, but she managed to break away just long enough to catch her breath and whisper, "Wait."

Now that Chiriko was turned on, he was hard to stop. He tugged her close; his nose trailing along her cheek as he sought her mouth again. The tent in his pants throbbed against her center and Miaka knew they both needed to cool off. With some effort, Miaka pushed herself away from him to stand on wobbly feet. He reached for her and she held out a hand, "Sit. Stay."

Hurt flashed across his features and Miaka's heart clenched. "I'm sorry. I just mean…let's slow down." She brushed her hand over his flowing topknot in apology and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. His bangs framed his face angelically and for a moment Miaka was reminded of Hotohori or Nuriko. "You've got that big, beautiful brain and we're not letting that go to waste." She couldn't resist running her hands through the loose strands. "You relax for a minute, okay?"

Unconsciously straightening her clothes, Miaka set about placing and lighting the ceremonial incense. Every so often, she snuck a glance back at Chiriko to see him breathing slowly, almost meditatively, hands on his knees, head and shoulders straight. She smiled. His Chi was calmer now. Chichiri had probably taught him that.

Formerly being the smallest and youngest, it was only natural he would try to emulate his older brother Seishi. He'd taken up a physical sport, trying to be more manly like Tamahome or Tasuki, let his hair grow out into flowing tresses like Nuriko or Hotohori, and relied heavily on self-reflection like Chichiri or Mitsukake.

Miaka stole a look at his lap, noting the prominent bulge had subsided a little. Good. It was probably safe to approach him again now that he'd calmed down some. She'd underestimated his strength earlier and did not wish to get into a situation she couldn't control.

"Chiriko."

His eyes snapped open, the color a blazing green not unlike her own.

"Miaka?" His voice was tentative again, and a little husky. As Miaka approached, his hands gripped the fabric at his knees.

When Miaka reached him, Chiriko was trembling. Whether from anticipation or if he was afraid to touch her, Miaka wasn't sure. She edged closer, taking his hands in hers and straddling him again. Somehow, Chiriko's hesitation made her bold, and she had no problem placing his hands on her still covered breasts.

"Touch me." Here, her voice hitched a little and heat rushed to her face as Chiriko stared up at her in wonder. "Feel free to explore." Miaka had thought saying something so brazen was beyond her. But she wasn't saying it to try and be sexy—although obviously for Chiriko it was working quite well—she was saying it to try and encourage Chiriko.

Chiriko swallowed, giving an experimental and curious squeeze. Not having expected him to take her at her word so easily, Miaka gasped, holding his hands in place when he tried to pull away. "Keep going." She released him, raising her hands to slowly unbutton her shirt as he touched her.

Soon, her shirt was completely undone, exposing her bra. It was nude colored, but lacy and Chiriko didn't seem to care that it wasn't pretty as he ran his fingers over it directly, leaning forward as though in a trance. Every once in a while, Miaka caught him looking up at her as though trying to make sure she hadn't changed her mind. He was so awkward it almost physically pained her. His chi was more restrained now, despite their increased contact.

Trying to help, Miaka rested her hands on his shoulders and pulled him forward, pressing his face between her still covered breasts. Chiriko sucked in a breath against her skin, fingers twitching as he squeezed her. Miaka moaned when his mouth closed over her exposed skin, hoping to encourage him further. Chiriko's mouth skated across her soft flesh as he began to fumble with her bra. He whimpered in frustration when he couldn't get it undone and gave up, pulling the cups down to expose her to his mouth fully. Miaka pulled him closer, letting her head fall back against her shoulders as he drew hard on a nipple.

Trying to help, Miaka moved to take it off herself but Chiriko stopped her, voice muffled, looking up at her through disheveled bangs, his face buried in the valley between her breasts. "No, leave it. It's sexy." He smiled, returning to suckling her breasts, tongue laving her nipples as though they were made of the sweetest candy. The low moans of pleasure she'd been making were steadily growing louder as he took his time exploring.

Miaka was becoming impatient. She rolled her hips against him in a deliberate fashion, wanting more. Her Chi was rising, demanding that he follow suit. Her nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt, tugging it free from his pants. He was still preoccupied with her breasts for the moment. Wanting to touch him in return, Miaka slid a hand into his shirt, trailing it from his neck to his well-defined chest to his abdomen— and he jumped, nearly dumping her on the floor.

He stared at her with wide eyes, his arms looped at her waist the only thing keeping her from the bedroom floor. He looked just as shocked as she was, his shirt hanging open to reveal several dark freckles scattered along his abdomen.

"I'm sorry, are you ticklish?" Miaka asked, righting herself.

"Yeah, sorry, my stomach is kind of sensitive." His voice was sheepish. "You surprised me."

"Do you not want me to touch you there?"

Chiriko glanced down at himself, seeing his manhood straining against his pants, her legs on either side of him. "Maybe not this time." His hands moved from her waist to her thighs, where her skirt was hiked up and barely covering her. Slowly, he slid a hand upwards, brushing against her center and earning a harsh intake of breath and a burst of chi. "Tell me what you like, Miaka."

Miaka swallowed and nodded as Chiriko's thumb began to stroke her. His touch started out light, gradually building pressure as she directed him. "Yes, there." It wasn't long before her panties were soaked and Chiriko slid them aside to touch her more directly.

"Ah!" Miaka gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer as his thumb circled her clit. Taking the opportunity, Chiriko leaned down and kissed her, his tongue mimicking the motions of his fingers. "Inside. Please." Chiriko obliged and then her hips were moving on their own, grinding against Chiriko's fingers.

Breaking their kiss to lean back, Chiriko watched her face as his fingers explored her inner depths. Chiriko picked up on her cues quickly, his fingers sliding against her slick skin until Miaka was panting, her eyes locked on his. "Just like that. Yes. Yes." Miaka closed her eyes against the onslaught of sensation, coming hard against his fingers.

A moment passed while she recovered, Chiriko basking in pride. His hardness throbbed against her in anticipation and Miaka knew it was time.

"Are you ready?"

Chiriko swallowed, nodding vigorously. Frantically, he unbuckled his pants and shrugged them down to pool on the floor without standing up. His member quivered, hard with anticipation.

Miaka smiled encouragingly and stood, slowing working her panties down her thighs and off her legs. She made to remove her skirt, but Chiriko stopped her again, his face red. "Can you leave that on too? Please?"

Obliging his request, Miaka hiked her skirt up again to position herself over top of him. Holding him in place, she slowly lowered herself until he was sheathed entirely, the two of them pressed together like the pages of a book.

Chiriko gasped at her warmth, his arms flying up to hold her close, pressing his face into her shoulder. Miaka held still, letting him get used to the sensation, remembering how her first time had felt only a few days ago. In this position she felt extremely full, and appreciated the recovery time as she adjusted. The energy between them swirled and hummed, forming a small nimbus of red and orange.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm okay." He sucked in several large breaths, visibly trembling in the attempt to calm himself. "Just, don't move yet."

Miaka obediently held still, her hands idly playing with Chiriko's mop of hair, eventually taking out his hair tie and letting his hair fall about his shoulders. "That's rude, Miaka." Chiriko admonished, shaking his head to get the hair out of his face, only one eye visible.

"Sorry, not sorry?" Miaka grinned, running her hands through his hair again so that he closed his eyes, practically purring. His chi pulsed against hers frantically. After several moments it calmed, syncing up with hers again.

"I'm gonna move." He announced, shifting his grip on her hips with an experimental roll of his own.

Miaka hummed in approval, his tentative motions eliciting her own enthusiastic response. With her sitting on him, Chiriko's movement was limited, forcing Miaka to take the lead. And Chiriko was happy to let her! He clung to her, matching her pace as she moved slowly up and down, as if in a waltz. Miaka imagined she could hear him counting under his breath with every kiss or touch of his hand.

Tiring of the slower pace, Miaka directed him to touch her, pulling his face to her chest and holding him there, encouraging him to suckle her like before as she ground against him. Like before, he became preoccupied with her breasts, rolling and kneading them until she moaned aloud at his touch.

Already overly sensitive, Miaka shuddered against him, her insides squeezing him tightly in almost orgasm. Chiriko nearly came as well, shaking as her insides caressed him.

Seeking that tightness again, he ran his hands over her experimentally. Now Miaka was positive he was counting. Numbers that had no meaning to her, but with every strategic tweak of her body, Chiriko was rewarded as her body thrummed and tightened like a well-tuned instrument.

Finally, he wrapped one arm around her waist, using the other pulled her down onto him with every thrust until the chair rocked dangerously with every movement. In a surprising show of strength and dexterity, Chiriko lifted her, falling onto the bed without breaking pace.

Landing on the bed with the sudden delicious weight above her did Miaka in. Her legs came up to circle his waist, pressing him deeper as the edge of orgasm called to her. Her chi swirled around them, dragging her lover along for the ride. He responded heartily, thrusting with frantic abandon.

"Miaka-Ah-ah-ah!" Chiriko gasped, covering her mouth with his own as he emptied himself within her.

Her back bowed as the chi poured into her, triggering her own climax. Their combined energy reacted much like a grade-school science project, frothing over to fill the rooms atmosphere with an almost audible fizzing. It definitely tingled, zipping through the air and settling against her skin.

Shivering from the influx of energy, Miaka kissed him slow, playfully tugging on his bottom lip until his oversensitive body collapsed atop her in a panting heap. Voice quaking, he whispered in her ear, "I love you."

Miaka giggled, the words filling her with joy. She hadn't expected this. Even though Chiriko was much older now, and she'd come to terms with that, the idea of him having feelings for her had seemed absurd. Patting his back soothingly until he stopped shivering, affection overwhelming her. Could this be the beginning of love? She knew well enough she wanted to be close to him always. And for now, that was enough.

Rolling them over on their sides as they caught their breath, Chiriko asked, hopefully, "Can we do that again?"

To Be Continued…

AN: Too much? I wrote the idea of Nuriko tying poor Chiriko up initially as a sort of joke because I was stuck. And then I just kinda went with it. I am really doing my best to keep the sex scenes interesting and (hopefully) not repetitive.