Warning: This chapter is rated M for sexual content.

Izzy and Amy, Pt 2

A jittery, too slow, too fast week of classes. A stifling car ride to Izzy's house, where Amy alternated between nervous jabbering and silence. And now, she stood in the third floor suite's bathroom on a Friday night, staring at herself in dark purple negligee trimmed with black lace.

From this angle, she could mistake her top for a daring camisole, showing off far more chest than anything she owned (save for the black dress from Mimi). But there was no ignoring the luxurious feel of the stockings, a touch that felt almost like water. Amy backed up, trying to see more of her outfit. The camisole ended near the top of her matching panties. Self-conscious, she turned and peeked at her butt over her shoulder. It was very much… There.

Amy nibbled her lower lip. She thought she was prepared for tonight. She did some research and scheduled an extra session with her counselor to discuss her sexual history. She didn't dare ask Mimi for advice, but now that she was here, with Izzy waiting in the bedroom… Well, now she wished she had.

Maybe I should have done something with my hair? Worn makeup? Amy never expected lingerie to make her magically appealing, but… Was this really enough? Enough to make her sexy, enough for her to feel confident? Clearly not, at least to the second question.

But there was no point fretting over hair and makeup supplies that she didn't have, so Amy slipped on the matching robe and tied it around her waist. Idling here was only making her more nervous. She felt anxiety spreading, twisting, jitters settling in one organ, only to leap to the next.

Before she could reconsider, Amy opened the door and entered the bedroom. Dull orange light, the remnants of sunset, flooded the room through the circular window, a glowing halo over the bed. Despite everything, Amy stared at the forest. The trees were orange on top, but dark on the bottom, almost like they were alight.

"Amy…"

She twitched and looked towards the sound of Izzy's voice. He sat on the edge of the bed, wearing boxer briefs and a white undershirt, his typical bedtime outfit. That was comforting, somehow, and Amy managed a frazzled smile. She sat beside him and grabbed his hand.

"You look wonderful."

Normally, compliments from Izzy were treasured, but Amy was too keyed up to digest this one. "I'm just glad everything fits," she deflected. She wanted to joke that she still wore a robe, so the lingerie wasn't visible, but she lacked the nerve. Still in the robe meant that she planned to take it off, and how was she supposed to do that?!

Izzy flipped his hand to hold hers. "That's good. I've locked the doors, so there's no chance of interruption. Have you thought about what you'd like to try?"

Only every second for almost a week. "Y-yes," Amy substituted. "B-but… I really don't… Know anything. And, um… I'm nervous."

"I am, too," Izzy admitted. "I don't think there's any helping that. But I promise, if you need to stop or pause at any time, just say so. You're in control."

"Thank you. I trust you, but I don't think I know… How to be in control? Or where we should start?" She almost pointed out that he was more experienced, but rephrased to, "Do you have any ideas?"

His grip on her hand tightened. Though the lighting dimmed as the sun set, the dregs were enough to reveal the red pooling in his cheeks. "I, ah, I do. I mean-" His mouth snapped shut, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "You could say it's been on my mind."

Amy snorted with unexpected delight. Laughing, she leaned into him and kissed his cheek. "No kidding!"

He grinned, seeming more at ease. "Perhaps scheduling it ahead of time was more stressful than anticipated, but… I needed to prepare. Mentally and…" Amy tipped her head as his pause ran on. Those traces of red were no longer traces. "Well, I needed some things."

Amy was powerless against the smile overtaking her face. In the world's most telling tone, she said, "Oh?"

"It's easier to show you," Izzy muttered. He stood, reached under the bed, and extracted a large black box. Curious, Amy scooted closer. He pressed his thumb to a panel, and there was a beep and a whirring sound.

"It's a safe with a fingerprint scanner," Izzy said, answering the question written on her face. "I have no reason to believe that my parents would look under my bed, but I think everyone would prefer that no one stumble upon this by accident."

Remaining silent seemed the fastest way to learn why the heck Izzy needed a safe, so Amy nodded. He opened the door and unpacked the safe, one item at a time. Amy found herself nodding along to a box of condoms and a bottle of lubricant. But then-

"Do we need more than one kind of lube?" she asked. "I thought lube was for… Um… Butt stuff?" She picked up the nearest bottle and read the label. "Warming gel?"

The way Izzy looked at her suggested that he hadn't expected to host an impromptu sex ed lesson. To his credit, he took a deep breath and replied, "The warming gel is for me, although you're welcome to try it. It's for…" He paused, and a hint of the visceral panic talking about sex generated flickered through his eyes. "M-mechanical stimulation?"

Amy blinked, attempting to translate. "Masturbation?" When Izzy nodded, Amy forced a creaky smile. "I know it's awkward, but I think we should use direct language."

Again, Izzy nodded, which was a funny way to confirm the need to communicate clearly. "So… You use this to masturbate?" A third nod, once again accompanied by that eye-panic. "Can I ask why?"

Amy had the distinct impression that Izzy would rather spontaneously combust than answer. He paused for a long interval, spinning an object Amy couldn't name in his hand, then offered, "W-Well- Because it's pleasurable? That's the goal of everything here. The lubrication reduces friction, and the warmth feels… good."

Amy tried not to picture Izzy masturbating, then tried to picture him masturbating, then realized that she didn't know how to picture that, then realized that she wanted to, then realized that it might be invasive, then wondered if her head would explode. "You, you masturbate?"

Those expressive eyebrows scrunched up, as if huddling together for comfort. "Not often, comparatively, from what I'm made to understand. But it's… a common human behavior." As if to shove that topic aside, he picked up the two remaining bottles of lube. "This one is water based and glycerin free, which is recommended for sensitive skin. This one is silicon based, so it can't be used with other silicon products. And lubricant is strongly recommended for vaginal sex."

Amy was still struggling to combine the concepts of 'Izzy' and 'masturbation,' but Izzy was piling more items beside her. "Do you need this much stuff to bang?" she asked, somewhat panicked.

Izzy was resolutely looking into the safe, not at her. "No- well, condoms and some form of lube, yes- but… I would like to try things in time, if you're interested." Izzy placed the lubes and condoms on the nearest nightstand and considered what was left.

Amy picked up a heavy, smooth object. She had no clue what it was, nor why it had a flared end, but when Izzy gestured for it, she placed it in his hand without comment. He packed up the remaining items, closed the safe, and slid it under the bed. While he was down there, tilted away from her, he said, "If you're comfortable with it, masturbating together seems like the easiest place to start."

Amy's stomach dropped. They hadn't even begun, but apparently, she was already failing. "Um… I don't… know how."

Izzy straightened at last, looking baffled. "I beg your…?"

Realizing that she was being unclear, she clarified, "I don't know how to masturbate."

He continued to stare, as if she had replied in a foreign language. "Izzy… I really appreciate that you bought all this stuff. I know it means that you want to… That you want… Me. I really like it. But, but I'm also realizing… I don't even know what this stuff is, or how to... How to start, or how to be sexy, or, or… anything."

And still he stared, and Amy found herself picturing a circular loading icon twirling on his forehead. "Izzy?" she prodded.

"You've… never masturbated?"

Her shoulders snapped up. "W-well- When am I supposed to? I wasn't comfortable at home, and I have a roommate in college, and…"

Another long pause, another stretch of blank staring. Then, Izzy sat beside her and took her hand in both of his. "Amy, I… I'm sorry, I just want to be clear. Are you… suggesting that you've never…" Wincing against the awkwardness, he muttered, "Orgasmed?"

Amy clamped her mouth shut. If she spoke, a wave of defensive nonsense would pour out, so she nodded instead. "Amy!" Izzy cried, aghast. "You're nineteen years old!"

"I know how old I am!" Annnnd there went her control. Amy looked away, unable to deal with… whatever was going on with Izzy's face. He seemed dumbfounded, his dark eyes wide, but something about his brows seemed to indicate disbelief, and maybe even consternation.

After a few seconds, he drew a deep breath. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to offend. What you do with your body is your business, but… It hurts to know that you've never been comfortable enough to even…" He took her hand and ran a thumb along her palm. "Are you comfortable here?"

Sensing that Izzy wasn't judging her, Amy scrounged for the courage to look at him. He offered a tiny smile, and his obvious concern eased her defensiveness. "Mostly. I'm nervous, though."

Izzy caught her gaze and held it, capturing her attention. "And you're sure you want this?"

"I do, but I... Really don't know what to do."

"Alright," Izzy murmured. "In that case, let's start as small as we can. Would you like to be touched?"

"Touched?" Amy echoed.

Izzy placed a hand on her knee and slowly slid up her thigh. "My plan was to learn how you like to be touched by watching you. But if you'd prefer, I'll touch you. All you have to do is relax and communicate with me."

Amy was exceptionally aware of his hand, the weight of it, the moving heat. "Uh, um- Won't that be boring for you?" Izzy sputtered, then attempted to swallow a laugh- and failed miserably. "W-well!" Amy cried, agitated beyond her capacity to cope.

Despite her grousing, Izzy grinned and kissed her. Amy froze, already too overstimulated to know what the heck was going on. But when his hand cupped her face, she found herself quieting, settling, leaning in.

He slid back enough to look her in the eye. "I won't be bored," he murmured. "That much I guarantee."

"Okay?" Amy squeaked, frightfully cognizant that her heart seemed to be crashing down several flights of stairs. "W-What do I do?"

"Lie down. Be comfortable. Take the robe off, if you'd like."

"I see," Amy grumped. "That's what you're after." She gave Izzy space to deny, which backfired spectacularly- he just smiled, damn him. The last thing she wanted was to shed a protective layer, but- but he was cute and smiling and red and, and very cute, and it wasn't fair, and-

And it was dark now, and the only light came from the dimmed lamp on a nightstand. It was enough to see each other, to know what was happening, but soft, forgiving. They were alone, locked in and comfy in bed. She trusted him- and when he smiled like that, she wanted to give him whatever he wanted.

Which was so unfair.

Amy reminded herself of the remaining layer beneath the robe, then undid the tie at her waist. Izzy's smile faltered, shifted as she shrugged it off. His lips parted, and that typical focus in his eyes went bleary. Then he was kissing her, and they were flat on the bed, and she was squished into him, and she didn't realize how intensely she was kissing back until he moved away and she tried to follow.

"Do- do you mind if I touch you?" Izzy somehow managed. "Or, rather- is there any place you don't want to be-"

What was she going to do? Amy was already overwrought, yanked from one emotion to another to another still. Isn't that the point?! "Go, go ahead."

She half expected him to grab her chest. Instead, he slid his hand down her waist and paused at her hip. He moved inward, his skin warm against her thigh, until his fingertips brushed the front of her panties. "You don't have to take these off, and I don't expect anything after. I want to touch you; do you want that, too?"

Although Amy's whispered, "Yes," was shaky, she moved into his hand. Heat rushed to her face as she realized that her body was light-years ahead of her mind and feelings. When did the room get so warm? When had her heart started galloping like some ballistic horse?

She figured he would get right to it, but again, he surprised her. Izzy stroked along her thighs, moving away from her panties. Each time he slid closer, a jolt of anticipation struck, faded, struck, and she realized, "You- You're teasing?"

His breathy laugh was warm on her neck, so why did it make her shiver? "More acclimating than teasing, but if you're interpreting it that way…" Gently, softly, he slid his hand between her legs. Her treacherous hips jerked into his touch, and they both made sounds that Amy had never heard before.

Izzy sucked in a breath near her ear. "A-alright. A moment, please."

He moved away, and Amy blinked. Excuse you! Happily, she was too overwhelmed to speak, so she watched him grab the water-based lube and warm a dollop on his hands. When he returned, she scooted into him, and he settled on his side, pressed against her. He seemed to be trying to catch her eye, but looking at him was impossible.

He kissed her cheek, then placed a single finger on the crotch of her panties. "Are you alright?"

She wanted to slap both her hands to her face and quite possibly never look anyone in the eye ever again, which likely didn't translate into 'alright.' But her entire nervous system was hyper focused on that tiny point of contact, just a fingertip's worth of pressure. It seemed to be holding a breath, waiting for what would come next. And so, she forced out, "Y-yes."

"Relax," Izzy murmured. "You can close your eyes if you'd like."

Amy's shoulders slumped as a weight she hadn't understood vanished. Sighing with relief, she buried her face in Izzy's neck, hiding away. His familiar, soothing scent filled her nose, easing tension. She breathed in a few times and almost, almost calmed-

Until his fingers slid beneath the silky fabric, warm and slick, spreading and stroking. At first, only shock registered- an unfamiliar touch in a place that had never been touched before, not like this. She froze, and Izzy murmured in her ear, reassuring, complimenting. Amy couldn't parse specifics; she zeroed in on his beloved voice and scent, grounding herself with the familiar and safe while the new and frightening seized her body- and sent it haywire.

One moment, she was enduring too much stimulus, persevering through trust. Maybe Izzy adjusted his approach, or maybe she simply got used to it. There was no way to know what happened, or when it did, but suddenly, Izzy was no longer coaxing. All the sounds came from her, and she desperately tried to stopper them. But Izzy's fingers shifted, caressing a spot that made her hips jerk, that forced his name from her lips. He gasped, moaned, and her heart strained and ached and craved.

When he kissed her, sloppy and urgent, she surrendered at last, gave herself over to whatever might happen. Suddenly, what was too much was not enough, and she rocked into his touch, trying to create more contact, more of that tingling, consuming electricity. It built until she felt like she would snap, a sensation that frightened her. She pushed against Izzy's chest, and everything stopped: the kissing, the stroking, the thunderous buildup within her.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

How was she supposed to speak while breathing so heavily? "It, it's- Scary- Like, like I'll pop-"

Izzy blinked, then smiled. Amy stared, still distressed, but instinctively trusting that if Izzy was smiling, everything was fine. "That's the point," he said, so fondly. "Relax."

Her brain fumbled towards the eventual conclusion. "Oh." She angled from her back to her side, curling into Izzy, wrapping an arm around him. "O-okay."

"Alright. Relax. You're doing wonderfully." The affected, doting quality to Izzy's crisp voice made her feel hysterical. She longed to push back and tried to point out that she wasn't doing anything, but her language skills abruptly reduced to ah. Then, there was no more thinking, no more embarrassment or alarm, no more anything. The whole world, inner and outer, reduced to a soaring sensation, building to a point of weightlessness, a moment of bright, blissful stillness. Then, intense release, a pleasure that pulled her under. She was unaware of her jerking hips, the sounds she made, or the way she clung to Izzy.

Then, everything stilled, and the sound of his ragged breathing registered. Amy lifted her head from his neck, suddenly aware of herself again, and of him, and of his arousal pressed between her legs, hot and very much- very much there.

Maybe she should have been tired, spent, embarrassed- and maybe she was. But her attention was hyper focused on his groin pressed to hers, clearly wanting, and on his expression. Amy knew next to nothing about sex and desire, but there was no misunderstanding the way Izzy was looking at her. Eyes dilated, glazed, without a trace of his typical focus. Brow crumpled, almost distressed, mouth slightly open, skin red, red, red. Even she, so skilled at disregarding evidence that she was desired, accepted that he needed her- and that she craved to meet that need.

"Your turn?" Amy almost sounded whiny, plaintive.

Izzy sucked in a breath and shut his eyes tight. Through grit teeth, he said, "Don't push yourself-"

She rolled her hips into his, and there was a wet sound of contact, almost covered by Izzy's groan. "Please?" Amy murmured. "Can I please touch you?"

The concept of asking permission to touch him while she not-so-dry humped him was amusing, but only momentarily. He opened his eyes and stared into hers, and even as overwhelmed as she was, she sensed that he was trying to gauge or sense something. Amy backed her hips up enough to slide a hand between them and stroke him "I'm okay. Please?"

His hips twitched into her touch, but he said, "Wait. Let me- Let me show you something, first."

"Um- Okay?" Puzzled, slightly worried, Amy gave him enough space to sit up. Still watching her with an intensity Amy couldn't understand, he took a deep breath and removed his shirt.

He was scrawny- there was no other word for it. Although the room was dim, the light and shadows rushed to his skin, highlighting ribs and muscles unprotected by fat. His hip bones protruded at the band of his boxer briefs. Realizing that he was nervous about his appearance and wanting to soothe him, Amy shifted her focus to his face- and found that his hair was ruffled from undressing.

Something dissolved in her stomach, or maybe her brain, or, well, it didn't matter where, did it. She kissed him, knocking them both flat on the bed once more, smooching down his neck, over his collarbone and chest, and down his stomach. "Amy!" he gasped, half laughing, half fighting for air.

"You're so cute." The hair beneath his belly button tickled her face, and she followed it down. "I didn't know your body hair was red!"

"Why not?" Izzy asked. "My eyebrows are red. My arm and leg hair, too."

"Well- I guess I never knew you had hair on your torso. You're really cute. Did you know red is my favorite color?"

He managed a frazzled, lopsided grin. "Ah. Shall I be wary of Sora stealing you away?"

"Ha!" Amy dropped a wet smooch on his tummy and grinned. "As if! Sora's out of my league."

Though humor lit his eyes, he said mournfully, "And I'm not?"

Another loud, smacking kiss. "Nope! You're just right for me." Her grin slowly faded as the weight of her words registered. "I mean it. You- you really are."

His smile vanished with hers. The fragility on a face so often focused and calm tore at her heart. "You- You really don't mind how… how I look?"

Amy knew why Izzy was insecure about his appearance, but still, it flabbergasted her. True, 'short' was rarely on the list of physical traits girls sought out in boys, but she didn't mind that. And otherwise…

Otherwise, to her, Izzy was so cute that looking at him sometimes ached. "I love how you look. And I'm starting to wonder if you're going to make me beg to get in here," she said, tracing a fingertip over the top of his boxer briefs.

The anxiety in his eyes lurched back towards glazed, as if he had taken a blow to the head. "You would- you would beg?"

Amy stared at the bulges beneath the fabric and swallowed hard. "It seems… undignified? But then I- I think- I want to?"

"I, I see," he squeaked. "I'd, ah, like to explore that later. But for now…" Izzy hooked his thumbs beneath the band of his boxer briefs and slid them down. Amy's eyebrows leapt and hovered there, even as he navigated them past his legs and dropped them off the side of the bed.

"Oh." She knew words. Lots of words! So many words. Not a single one was forthcoming.

"No comment on the red hair?" It sounded like Izzy was trying to tease, but was too nervous to execute- and she couldn't blame him. "You're not frightened, are you?"

Amy gave herself a mental shake. "What- I'm not afraid of penises! I just… I've never seen one." She didn't remember much of prom night, not in between being drugged and calling Matt. Mostly, she recalled feeling smothered beneath Jerry's body and disconnected from her own, save for the pain of penetration and being roughly handled.

Right now, she felt too connected to her body. She didn't have a sense of comparison, but Izzy seemed… well, that looked like a lot to have inside her? Which was scary, but then- also exciting? And he was flushed, especially at the glans, red and cute and a little wet-

Slowly, Amy reached for him, watching his face. He twitched when she touched him, then closed his eyes as she rubbed where his glans met his shaft. His skin was velvety and soft over a stiff core, delightful to touch.

But as she explored, fumbling through trying to make him feel good, Amy found herself growing impatient. She liked touching him, but it wasn't quite what she wanted. "Can I, can I kiss you?"

Izzy opened his eyes and frowned, looking bemused. "Of course, any time?"

Sensing that he hadn't understood, Amy muttered, "I meant… oral."

"Oh!" Red rushed to his face. "I- You want to?"

What could she say? Amy managed a tiny nod, and a lump slid visibly down Izzy's throat. "Um, of course. I have condoms for oral sex."

Amy blinked. That wasn't what she wanted at all! Her cheeks went molten as she realized that she wanted to feel him in her mouth, to taste him. Her voice took on that whining quality again as she said, "But, but we're both clean…"

"That's true," Izzy squeaked. "Then- Yes, if you want-"

He broke off with a groan as Amy kissed the base of his shaft, then slid him into her mouth. The sensory input walloped her brain like a mallet on a gong, and she paused, dazed. This close, he smelled aroused, and extremely… well, male. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her tongue swept up, tasting his skin, then the wetness on his glans, salty and musky.

Her body took over, shutting off her conscious mind. She was aware of her surroundings- especially of Izzy's hands in her hair, his exclamations and labored breathing, the way his hips twitched. She was distantly aware of the pressure building in her mouth, jaw, and throat, and that she was, alas, a bit slobbery. But every time she inched towards rational human, Izzy groaned or stroked her head, and boom- horny idiot.

"Amy, stop."

Thankfully, the request registered, and Amy released Izzy. "I'm sorry! Did I-"

Izzy grabbed the tissues on the nightstand. "N-no, I-" His hands shook as he yanked a few sheets free. Amy didn't understand until he wrapped them around his member.

A soft, "Oh," tumbled from her lips, lost beneath the thundering of her pulse in her head. Amy sat up and scooted towards him, watching, devouring. His head fell back as his brow pressed down and furrowed, as his mouth opened and his hips jerked, and-

Her legs were woozy, and it was scorching between them, in the room, in her skin. Izzy sighed, and his tensed muscles slowly mellowed. He colored dramatically when their eyes met, and he scrambled to throw the tissues into the waste bin under the desk. Although she didn't understand the abrupt shift in mood, Amy helped herself to the view he so kindly offered.

He seemed stiff, embarrassed. It might have been better to give him space, but Amy couldn't help herself. When he sat on the edge of the bed, she snuggled into him, gently guiding him back onto the sheets. He remained rigid beneath her until she kissed him. Gradually, he relented, softened, embraced her against him.

"How are you feeling?" he murmured.

She wiggled her hips against his and bit back an exclamation. When she was sure no weird noises would pop out, she replied, "Um- Honestly? Horny. But- Are you okay? You seemed kinda…"

Izzy sighed and kissed her forehead. "I apologize. I was embarrassed."

Amy almost blurted why, but when she considered, she knew he had a point. "It is embarrassing to… Well, all of it's embarrassing." She slipped her face into the crook of Izzy's neck, focusing on the thundering pulse there, slowly reducing in tempo. "It's vulnerable."

"That's true." Amy stifled a giggle at the strange sensation of hearing his voice, but also feeling it vibrate up his throat. "But I was more embarrassed by how quickly I- That I didn't last long."

Izzy oofed when Amy pushed against his chest to lift herself for a view of his face. "Izzy, no. Honestly, I don't even know how long it was. If it was fast, well, I was making a mess of myself, anyway!"

His soft laugh stole the breath from her lungs and vaporized thoughts from her mind, leaving her staring, brainless. He was cuter than ever, naked and a little undone, with a sated, relaxed air that she had never seen before. "Trust me: no one complains when their partner gets messy over them."

What was Amy supposed to say? She felt her jaw hanging, but was helpless to do anything about it. She was abruptly aware of how turned on she was- and of the soft whimper that slid free when Izzy ran his fingers through her hair. His smile warmed, but not in that soft, comforting way that she knew and treasured. This was much more… stimulating.

"You mentioned being turned on. Would you like me to give you oral?"

Do whatever you want to me. The thought was painfully, terrifyingly honest, but Amy lacked the courage to speak it. But then… Telling him what she truly wanted wasn't easy, either. "Um… Would you consider… I, I want you."

He hesitated, and Amy wondered if she might gag up her heart. She fought the urge to cough over the imagined blockage in her throat. In a careful, neutral tone, he said, "I thought we were taking baby steps."

"I know, and I was nervous- But now I, I'm-" What was she supposed to say? Thinking with her pants? A horny idiot? Those statements were accurate, but they couldn't begin to capture what she actually felt- like her heart was in him, and a physical link might reunite her with it. Like she couldn't possibly go on without experiencing this intimacy with him, without knowing him in this way. Logically, she was aware this wasn't true- sex or no, her world would continue spinning. But when desire obliterated fear…

Although her eyes stung, welling up with the force of too many feelings, she held Izzy's gaze and said, "I'm ready. So… Please?"

His chest hitched with a shocked, shallow breath. "Let me clean up, and we'll discuss it. I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit, regardless." That seemed like a joke, but neither of them had the spare bandwidth to laugh. Amy forced a jerking nod, and Izzy tipped them onto their sides, stood, and said, "I'll be right back."

He retreated to the bathroom, and Amy dragged herself upright. Jitters demanded that she pace; worry that he might decline locked her in place. Realizing how agitated she was, Amy fluffed a pillow against the bed's head board, sank into it, closed her eyes, and breathed in and out, completely expanding and contracting her diaphragm. Whatever happened next, they had to be on the same page, which meant that she had to be able to think, to respect Izzy's needs while communicating her own.

Gratitude for this pause, for this chance to gather her thoughts and center herself, overwhelmed her- along with gratitude for everything that had already happened tonight. Even if they stopped here, it was tremendous progress… And there was an entire weekend ahead of them.

Amy smiled and snuggled into Izzy's bed to wait.

Author's Note: I don't think this has been explicitly stated so… At this time, Amy and Izzy are the only iterations of Eimi/Koushiro I've written that are not demisexual. Amy is bisexual (it's occurred to her that she might be, but she didn't follow up with the thought- see the end of chapter 12), Izzy has currently only expressed interest in the opposite sex. Both seem to have comparatively low sexual appetite/thoughts compared to their peers, but that could be a reflection of their trauma, as they are both shown experiencing attraction. They both seem more able to slide into desire here than they have in other stories, I think?

So, this got too long- there will be one more update. I'm not sure when it will go up, as I will focus on writing a oneshot starring Koushiro/Tentomon/Taichi for Odaiba Day next. Likely, the next part of this scenario will go up after that.

Thanks for reading! Please do review and let me know what you think.