Author's Note: Finishing the final chapter of a multichapter is always a bear – you want to make sure you resolve everything neatly, that the ending feels satisfying, it doesn't feel too much like a rehash of any of your other stories (this is the problem with writing mostly slow burns LOL), and, you know, also reaching an ending that is entertaining and well-written doesn't hurt. So, with all that in mind, welcome to the final chapter of The Runner-Up!
Thank you to those of you who expressed support after my last author's note and everyone who wrote such thoughtful comments while I was stressing out about this resolution. And, of course and always, thank you to my wonderful beta FloraOne, who read this chapter like eight times, helped me punch it up, reassured me repeatedly that it did in fact feel satisfying, and is overall just the best and most supportive beta I could ask for. Love you!
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy 3
XX
Chapter 10 – A sure thing
Tsukino Usagi had never leapt across the Tokyo rooftops – even on the few occasions when she'd been carried by Tuxedo Mask, before he'd revealed who he really was, it had always been under the glamour of Sailor Moon.
But tonight… The idea of transforming before she leapt out of the window of the small apartment in Mita didn't even occur to her.
Transforming would require thinking, and she didn't have the space for that. Not right now, when any pause for reflection would stab her through the heart and leave her to bleed out across the dingy linoleum of the tiny kitchen.
So instead, she scrabbled along the concrete roofs in her Mary Jane shoes and the pencil skirt she'd worn to work, descending on Mamoru's apartment like a homing beacon in the night.
His window was unlocked – it always was – and she slid the glass open with the faintest of squeaks, slipping her body through the gap in the transparent panes and ruffling the curtains as she passed through them.
Mamoru was waiting for her.
He was seated in the dimly lit apartment with his fingers steepled together, his face tilted down towards his lap but with his feet pointed right at the glass of the balcony doors. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, but aside from that he remained still as a statue.
"Usagi," he said, his tone even and neutral and infuriating.
She held up the letter, trying to keep her own voice from cracking and letting him know just how badly his little 'joke' was hurting her.
"This isn't funny," she said, impressed by how unaffected she'd managed to sound, but when she looked up at him again, she wondered if maybe she shouldn't have been so measured. Mostly because… at this moment, Mamoru didn't look like Mamoru.
She'd never seen that look in his eyes before – hurt, almost hunted. "It wasn't meant to be."
"But it can't be true! There's 'only ever been one girl'? What about that pretty girl you smiled at?"
Mamoru stared blankly at her for a moment before he shook his head, one corner of his lips curling up ever-so-slightly. "Uh… I may need you to be a little more specific."
She waved her hand in the air as Mamoru leaned back in his chair. "The girl! The one from the day you gave me a ride to my interview, she was so pretty, and you… the way you looked at her." You've neveronce looked at me like that!
His brow furrowed slightly as he seemed to think back. "Do you mean… Sayuri-san? She's an old friend from a study group in college, we had just happened to run into each other. She, uh," He paused, running a hand over the back of his neck. "She asked if I was still basically a monk, and, well, I told her about you." His face went soft, the smile in his eyes so similar to that day. "She thought you sounded adorable."
Usagi blinked, shaking her head slightly because there must still be some water lodged in her ears from her shower last night that she needed to clear. Otherwise… "Bu-but… you two were hanging out at the arcade. Aren't you dating her?"
His brows furrowed. "We got a coffee at Crown to catch up, yes, but how did you know about…?"
Her cheeks flushed, and Mamoru's eyebrow arched up.
"The pen, right," he muttered, rising to his feet and running a hand across his face.
There was a long pause in which Usagi fervently wished to spontaneously combust before he turned back to look at her.
"So that… that was what you thought? You ended things between us because you were jealous of my old study buddy?"
She shook her head, her heart pounding in a way that she was determined to ignore. Rather than admit her jealousy, she tried again. "W-well, what about the redhead?" He gave her another blank look, and she burst out "From the goukon!"
"Gou- That night we had sex against the fence, you mean?"
"Yes, she was all over you."
Digging his hands into his pockets, he took one step, then another, until he stood much too close, his tall frame towering over her and further clouding her mind. "All I remember about that night is that you were wearing a black dress that really ought to have been sold in the lingerie section and flirting with some other guy." He let out a slow exhale, and the warmth of his breath ghosted across her face, raising goosebumps all over her body. "I wasn't exactly in the frame of mind to pay attention to anything else."
Heart pounding, her fingers trembled and tightened, inadvertently scrunching the letter in her fist. "So you didn't go home with her?"
That same bemused head tilt that she was becoming far too familiar with. "...No, Odango. I had sex with you against a fence, remember? Then I went home, by myself, and obsessed for half the night over whether or not you were gonna see that guy again."
Unable to breathe – because breathing would mean inhaling hope, not to mention the intoxicating scent of his cologne – she wracked her brain, trying desperately to come up with another example and coming up short.
All her disguise pen stalking had shown her one thing – Mamoru really wasn't the Casanova type.
"But… even Ami-chan said that you're hopelessly in love with some girl!"
He stared at her, face completely blank, before his hand rose and he pointed at the letter, still half-crumpled in her hand. "Yes. She's correct."
Usagi recoiled, stepping back to put some distance between them. Enough space might give her brain time to reboot, let her get her bearings and put together a coherent request, a command, anything to make him stop all this teasing and treat her like an actual adult for once.
"N-not ME!" she stammered, skin hot, fervently wishing she could drop Mamoru on a separate island somewhere off the coast of Japan, as there simply wasn't enough room to breathe with both of them standing here in his living room. "There MUST have been some other girl!"
"And why is that?"
"Well you… you…" she stumbled over her words as he stepped forward again, closing what little distance remained between them.
Creating space earlier hadn't helped at all, and now that he was even closer, her brain was fully on the fritz.
"I understand that you have some preconceived expectations about my personal life," he said, voice low and patient, "but you're actually the only person I've been with."
She gaped. "What? No."
"Before you stress yourself out, it's not that I was 'saving myself' or anything like that." Mamoru shrugged, dropping his gaze to the floor before he raked his fingers back through his hair and met her eyes again. "I've just never had enough interest in anyone else to bother pursuing anything."
"But… Come on, Mamoru, that doesn't… I mean- Even if- You are way too good in bed for me to have been your first!"
He chuffed, and his ears flamed red. "...You'd be surprised what you can find online courses for."
"You expect me to believe you found an online oral sex course?"
His entire face was the color of a strawberry, but he pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and holding it out for her inspection. Close as they were, she could easily read the page he'd pulled up, the header proudly proclaiming 'OMGyes.' "It's not oral sex… exactly. More… female pleasure?"
She gawked at the phone screen, eyes skimming over a blurb about 'pleasure techniques,' and her mind flashed back to the first few times they'd hooked up. The way Mamoru had asked her, over and over, what she liked, if that felt good. How he'd seemed to want to learn her – and oh, how he had – but it had never occurred to her that he'd been learning, period.
The webpage swam before her eyes, and she blinked hard, refocusing on Mamoru. "Why…?"
He shrugged again, sliding the phone back into his pocket but refusing to break her gaze. "I've been collecting whatever scraps of you I could since the day we met."
"But- You insulted me the first time we met! You said I was stupid an-and you called me Odango Atama."
He grimaced, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "I did, yes. I was a dumb teenager, and you… you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen in my life. I had no idea how to talk to you."
She crossed her arms over her chest, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth so she wouldn't inadvertently smile at his sort-of compliment. "You could have said 'hi,'" she pointed out, rocking slightly on her heels, edging just the barest centimeter closer to him.
He rubbed his long, too-perfect fingers against the center of his forehead, his exhale sharp and stilted. "You give me too much credit. You always have."
Now it was her eyebrows that rose. "I don't think anyone's ever accused me of that before. Mostly, it's people telling me 'Actually, Mamoru's a really great guy and it's such a shame that you two can't seem to get along. Maybe you should give him another chance.'"
Another chuff, then a shake of his head. "Us 'not getting along' was never your fault." His fingers clamped down on the back of his couch until his knuckles turned white. His gaze drifted to the window, his eyes training on Tokyo Tower instead of anywhere near her. "I was the one… That first time we spoke, I took one look in your eyes and I froze up, blurted out the first thing that came to my head." He pressed his lips together, turning his head back to her with eyes that were open and honest and so, so blue. Eyes that made her stomach twist with longing and something that felt suspiciously like hope.
"What d-"
He didn't let her finish her question. Instead, he pressed on as if he hadn't heard her, seemingly determined to say his piece. "It was one of the rudest things I can remember saying – up to that point, anyway. I didn't even believe it, and I instantly wanted to take it back… but you got so indignant. You were so damn cute, I couldn't stand it. I think I forgot how to speak."
"But you never did take it back!" she broke in, indignant all over again. "It's been six years and you still call me Odango."
"I know. I-" He blew out a breath, picking up one of his turquoise throw pillows and digging his thumb into one corner. "After you stormed off, I swore to myself I would apologize the next time I saw you."
She couldn't hold in her snort.
It wasn't that Mamoru was incapable of apologizing to her, but on the handful of occasions that he had, it had almost always been after one of his barbs hit a little too close to home and brought her to tears. Telling her she was a bun-head who needed to study more, though? That was a Tuesday for them.
"And then I never did," he confirmed, setting the pillow back down with a sigh. "I tried, but… Honestly, I'm still trying to figure out how to talk to you like a normal person."
"We talk," she countered, feeling a profound swell of annoyance that Mamoru seemed to have forgotten those half-dozen times when she'd managed to keep his focus on her for five minutes after sex. "Maybe not often, but we do."
"Usagi… you followed me around for weeks. Surely you noticed that how I talk to you is different from how I talk to everyone else."
Her irritation evaporated with a painful squeeze in her chest, and her chin dipped towards the floor. "Yeah…" she mumbled.
"I'm not… proud of that. But those first few times we spoke, I swear just being in your presence scrambled my brain."
Well, that was profoundly relatable. Of course, the key difference was that Mamoru was Mamoru and she was… well, herself. Nobody could possibly get all muddled up just from being near her.
"So we got off to a terrible start," he continued, apparently oblivious to the familiar feelings of inadequacy ballooning in her belly. "And maybe I could have still fixed it, got us to cordial footing, but when you sought me out at Crown just to yell at me again… I wanted that." He inhaled shakily, his hand running up the back of his neck. "I wanted you."
She inhaled through her teeth, her innards feeling too small to hold both this confession and everything she knew to be true about herself, about them. She shook her head, still waiting for Mamoru to take it all back, to reveal this was a prank gone too far.
"I've never wanted to know anyone so badly," Mamoru admitted instead with a self-deprecating smile, swiping long fingers through his hair. "And someone like me… I knew I didn't have a chance to get Tsukino Usagi to look at me, not for real. I would have been just another admirer, someone who you exchanged pleasantries with when we ran into each other on the street but never thought of otherwise." He poked at the pillow again, his eyes now fixed on the lines of his couch. "It wasn't enough. Not nearly. So I played the role instead, ready to do anything if it would keep me in your orbit. I figured I could be the jerk who you yelled at, and then the guy who helped you when you needed it. And when you wanted it… I could be your dirty little secret, too."
She kept shaking her head, wanting so badly to believe him but not being able to. It still didn't make sense. "But you ignore me. Every time. As soon as we're done, I have to fight just to get a second of your attention. You're all… all with your papers and your notes and your medical conditions and it's like… like I'm not even there at all."
He sucked in a long breath, sinking down onto the couch and running his hands over his face. "I didn't… you didn't want it to be more than sex," he said, drawing out his words like he was thinking carefully about each one. "You were very clear about that, and so I thought… holding you at arm's length was better."
"Why would that be better?" she protested, hugging her arms around herself. "You never… didn't you want to connect, to talk? Even a little bit?"
Mamoru buried his face in his hands. "Every second."
"Then why-"
"It was easier to let you go that way." The muffled words reached her ears and sent her heart pounding in double-time. His exhale was slow, measured, as he clasped his fingers together, raised his head to look up at her again with those same hunted eyes. "The same way that when I call you Odango, I know I won't slip up and call you Usako. If I convince myself you aren't there… I can't fall on my knees and beg you to stay."
The vulnerability in his eyes hit her like a ton of bricks.
Her awful feelings of the last few months, the pain and longing and uncertainty… she'd done that to Mamoru. She'd done that to Mamoru for six years.
The sharp sting of tears bit the insides of her eyelids, and she took a shuddering breath as she tried to tamp down on the torrent of feelings swelling up inside her, for just once to not be selfish. "I didn't… I'm so sorry."
"Usa… no." He was immediately on his feet again, pulling her into his arms and pressing her so tight to him that she could feel his ragged heartbeat in her own chest. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm not telling you this because I think you should have done anything differently – you shouldn't have. You made your expectations clear from the start, and I never assumed you would tiptoe around my feelings for you."
His fingers carded along her hair, sending a shiver up her spine and hot tears down her cheeks.
"I knew exactly what I was signing up for, and I would do it again without even pausing to think about it. Not for one second. These last six months… It was more than I ever dreamed I'd get. But when you said you thought I was wasting my time with you waiting for someone else, I…"
He swallowed, his thumbs delicately swiping the moisture away from her cheekbones as he tilted her chin up. It took her a moment to gather the courage to meet his gaze, certain it would be full of pain and accusation. She wasn't sure if she could bear it, but she figured she owed him that much.
But when she looked up, she found no resentment, no anger. Instead, his eyes were soft, so warm she might melt into them.
"Who else would I be waiting for?" he asked, incredulous but without the slightest hint of mocking. "You are the person who inspires me to be strong, to try to do better. In my darkest moments, you're the one who reminds me that there is always good in this world. Every day, no matter what, you somehow prove to me again and again that what I knew the first moment I ever saw you is absolute fact: you're it for me, Usako." His thumb stroked along her temple and she could barely hold in her sob. "Nothing about you could ever be a waste. You drive me crazy, you make me happier than I ever knew I could be, and, if you'd let me, I would spend the rest of my life with you, trying to return the favor." He slowly shook his head, his smile perplexed as his fingers caressed her cheek. "I thought you knew that."
She sniffled, trying and failing to staunch her tears with the heel of her hand. "H-how would I know that, you baka?! You should have said, I would have…" She looked up at Mamoru, his blue eyes warm and trained on her in quiet bemusement, like he knew damn well she didn't actually have any answers. She spread her hands apart, frustrated. "Dammit, I don't know, but I would have done something. And anyway," she hiccuped, "Why would you even want me? After the hell I put you through? For six years, Mamoru."
"I could ask you the same."
She shook her head at him, disbelieving, fingers probably smearing mascara across her cheeks. "Have you met you? When you're not pretending to be a jerk, you're… You're thoughtful. Caring. Too smart for your own good – I mean, honestly, Mamoru, you could read fiction occasionally. Selfless – you're always there for me when I need you. You-"
But she didn't get to say more – his kiss cut her words short.
His tongue swept over hers, stealing her last feeble protests. He crushed her to him, clutched her just as desperately as he had that first time in the Crown storage room, and she kind of wanted to crawl inside and drown in him.
"That's why," he whispered into her mouth when he broke the kiss, moving up to gently press his lips to one of her eyelids, then the other. "Six years of me picking on you, and yet you somehow still have nice things to say about me. You're amazing, Tsukino Usagi."
"I'm not."
"You are. And," he ducked his head down to look at their feet. "So there are no more misunderstandings from here on out, you should know, in so many words," he cleared his throat before meeting her eyes again. "I'm in love with you."
The sob she'd been holding in finally cracked in her throat, broke like an eggshell against hot concrete. Her nails dug into his back almost without her awareness, and she buried her face against the firmness of his chest so he wouldn't see her tears.
His hand was warm as it rubbed soothing circles into her back, his other hand tangling in the streamers of her hair. "I love you," he repeated. "Only you. You've always been my first choice. And…" The gentle pressure of his hand against her back stilled as he cleared his throat. "After everything we've been through these last few months, I was hoping, uh. That maybe I landed somewhere in your top ten?"
Despite herself, Usagi snorted into Mamoru's shirt, probably leaving behind a gross clump of phlegm to stain the soft fabric. "Don't be stupid, Mamo-chan," she said, pressing her knuckles into her tears as she stepped back far enough to finally meet his eyes. "You're at least in the top three."
His bark of surprised laughter was one of the most gratifying things she'd ever heard, but even that was nothing compared to his expression as he looked down at her – full of skeptical hope, of playful amusement, of utter love.
Her heart squeezed so tight in her chest she almost wasn't sure if it was still beating.
Me. He's looking at me.
The broken feeling that had lingered in her throat since that day she'd spoken to him outside the hospital finally, finally dissipated as she reached up, still hesitant to touch him in case he might melt away beneath her fingertips, revealed to be a mirage brought on by her own too-hopeful heart. But instead of illusion, her hand met cheekbone, warm and solid and real, and his hand came up to press her palm to his cheek.
"I love you, too," she whispered.
And then his mouth was on hers, kissing her as though he didn't notice that she was a mess from crying, as though he didn't care if she was gross and snotty and her makeup was probably running. Kissing her like he never wanted to stop.
A moan bubbled in her throat as his tongue tangled with hers, her fingers sliding up to tighten in his hair.
She rose up on her tiptoes so she could drag him down to her, tugging him backwards along the ever-so-familiar and eternally uncluttered pathway to his bed.
When the backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, she pulled him down on top of her in a practiced motion, and he fell with her oh-so-willingly.
His fingers twined and tugged her pigtails, a stark contrast to the gentle way his thumbs traced the line of her jaw. Unlike every other time before, when it had seemed that his objective was to get as much of her bare skin under his fingers as quickly as possible, this time he was unhurried.
His lips were everywhere, peppering kisses on her eyelids, her forehead, her neck, but his hands didn't stray from caressing her face, stoking her hair.
And, well, when the guy who you're hopelessly in love with (and who also happens to be the best sex you've ever had) just told you that he loves you back? She needed a little more than that.
Using all her superhero strength, Usagi leveraged herself up, hiking her pencil skirt around her waist and trapping Mamoru between her thighs.
She rolled on top of him, her mouth dipping down next to his cheek to whisper, "If you're not naked and inside of me in the next thirty seconds, I may seriously lose my mind."
He chuckled into her throat, but the next kiss was hard, a press of his tongue and teeth against the sensitive spot just below her earlobe. A shudder wracked her body as his hands slid through the silk of her hair and down to fumble with the tiny buttons of her white shirt.
She gasped as his fingers slipped inside the cup of her bra, traced the rounded line of her breast. Grinding her crotch against his with a whimper, her grasping hands tugged his button-up open. Gripped by an overwhelming need to run her hands over his naked skin, she couldn't hold back her pleading whine when she instead found a cotton tank top underneath.
Mamoru's laugh was somehow kind as he lifted her hands from where they picked unhappily at grey fabric. He nipped the inside of one of her wrists and pressed a kiss into her palm before he slid her shirt from her shoulders and off of her body.
"Mamo-chan," she panted, a shiver of pleasure radiating out from the press of his mouth and zinging through her limbs before settling as an almost painful ache of longing between her legs. "You're still… wearing way too many clothes."
His snort was a breathy huff that fanned against her skin, somehow making her tremble ever more. But he complied with her plea, shucking off his undershirt before pulling her tight to the bare skin of his chest and stroking his thumb along the dip of her back.
"Maybe I like it when you lose your mind," he whispered into the shell of her ear, his voice lush and full of seductive promise. "What if I like to see you desperate, love it when you beg and beg for me to touch you?"
She quivered, her nails involuntarily biting into his shoulders.
He traced his tongue down the lines of her body, pausing at the bridge of her bra only long enough to toss away the offending bit of fabric and lace, and she let out a staccato gasp as he licked one nipple into his mouth.
His teeth gently scraped the sensitized bud and she dug her fingers into his hair, her rapid breaths turning to incoherent babble: "Ma-Mamo-Mamo-chan, oh my god, oh my god, please, please, please."
"Hearing you say my name… God, Usako, you have no idea what it does to me," he continued, kissing his way up the cleft of her breast. "There were so many nights where it was the only thing keeping me sane. I didn't know where you would go, who else you might be with, but when you were here, with me, repeating my name over and over like a prayer… I knew that, at least in that moment, there was no one else. I could hold on to the fact that when you came completely undone, you were thinking of me." He pressed another kiss to her throat, then drew her pulse into his mouth in a way she hoped would leave a mark.
His voice was honeyed caramel in her ear, melting through her and leaving her body on fire for him: "You go crazy when I tease you, make you wait for it, but nothing could ever make me so crazy as the idea that you might think about me half as much as I think about you."
"I only ever think about you," she blurted in a gasp, and heard his intake of breath, sharp in her ear, felt the pinch of his fingers going taut against the small of her back.
"Usako…" Her name was a groan in her ear, a half-broken supplication, before his teeth bit down on her lobe, sent a shockwave of pleasure radiating through her needy body.
His other hand slid up her leg, his nails digging in slightly before his hand paused just-too-low. He drew the faintest, most maddening circles along the inside crease of her hip, making her moan helplessly, dig her nails into his shoulders in an attempt to try to force his hands higher.
"You're torturing me on purpose," she whined, and his response came in a low, cracked gasp – "Just returning the favor."
Despite her pleading, her squirms, he refused to give in, to move his hands to where she so wanted them. Instead, he traced his thumb along the outer seam of her damp panties without making any motion to remove the scrap of lace.
Letting out a growl of frustration, needing his touch more than she had words to say, she pressed herself into his lap, grinding her crotch against his erection – which she realized was covered by the slacks that Mamoru was still somehow wearing.
For a fraction of a second she paused, caught in a haze of lust and at war with herself, before she dragged herself backwards along Mamoru's thigh, greedy fingers unfastening the button of his pants and pulling the zipper down.
"I haven't ever been able to stop thinking of you," she confessed, tugging his pants down as best she could, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs. "Even before that first time in the Crown supply closet, it was always you that I thought of to tip myself over the edge. I just didn't want to admit it to myself."
His hiss was sexy, gratifying. It made her feel like he wanted her at least half as badly as she wanted him.
Her fingers danced over the head of his cock, teasing him with one hand as she leaned over, reaching for the jar on his bedside shelf where she knew he kept the condoms.
She didn't make it that far. His hands hooked under her ass and flipped her backwards, trapping her under him, his chest and his kiss pinning her to the bed as he slid his pants the rest of the way off.
Then, his left hand dipped into the jar as his right hand dipped between her legs, his thumb stroking over her clit and making her cry out: "Mamo-chan!"
His groan was low and long and made her toes positively curl, and she could barely make out the sound of the foil packet ripping beneath it.
With a soft hum of anticipation, she dug her fingernails into his ass as she watched him roll down the condom and line up his hips with hers. She licked her lips, unable to help her involuntary tremble as his cock first nudged her entrance. One of his hands fisted in her hair as he slid inside her. He kissed her fiercely, his other hand slipping between them to play with her clit.
Though she'd threatened to lose her mind if he wasn't inside her quickly, she'd made no promises for what she might do once he was inside her.
After all his teasing, the anticipation, she was so close and so wet that she could barely begin to hold on.
She broke the kiss with a desperate keen, digging her nails sharply into his back in an effort to hold on. "Mamo, Mamo, Mamo," she half-sobbed, eyes practically unseeing as he worked her clit from both outside and in and drove her wildly over the brink.
Her entire body convulsed, shaking, trembling apart as he kept stroking her, pressing kisses to her cheeks and throat and breasts, and for a moment she genuinely thought she might cry from the sheer exquisite perfection of the moment.
She tightened her arms around Mamoru, still moving inside her in a way that left her breathless, and tried to blink the lingering emotion from her eyes. "I love you, Mamo-chan," she whispered, and felt him tumble over after her.
XX
She was enjoying this way too much, she thought without the tiniest shred of remorse, draping her leg across Mamoru's hips and essentially forcing him to cuddle with her – although he was clearly raising no objections.
He lay on his side, his chin propped up on one hand so he could look down at her. His other hand traced warm, idle circles into her shoulders, occasionally tangling in the long tendrils of her hair and smoothing the strands out along her naked body.
"Mmmm," she hummed, stretching her arms over her head and enjoying the loose, sated feeling that radiated through her limbs. "Please tell me you have leftovers in the fridge. I'm starving after that."
She looked up to find Mamoru making that expression from the arcade again – the one where he bit his lip like he was trying not to smile.
"What?"
"They were never leftovers," he said, pressing a kiss to her exposed shoulder before sliding out of the bed.
She blinked, confused. "What?!"
"Why did you think my 'leftovers' always happen to be dishes that get served cold, Usako?" He shrugged good-naturedly. "They were always meant for you."
His next words were slightly muffled, because he'd opened the fridge and his head had disappeared inside, but she still heard them all the way down to the depths of her soul. "I hope this wasn't too presumptuous of me, but I did prepare some onigiri earlier today, just in case you…" He trailed off momentarily, his shoulders going slightly rigid in what she was suddenly able to recognize as veiled shyness. "But if that's not enough, I also have the ingredients to whip up some quick fried rice, yakisoba, or I could make-"
She cut him off midsentence, sneaking up behind him and throwing her arms around his waist before he could suggest any other dishes that he might cook especially for her.
Taking a deep inhale of his scent – all cinnamon and roses and just the slightest lingering hint of sweat and sex – she again pressed down a swell of guilt.
She was pretty sure she would never deserve this man. But damn, did she want him. And he… he wanted her back.
Maybe that was okay. Maybe she didn't have to understand why, didn't need to be able to list her merits and explain the logic. Maybe just knowing she was wanted – that she'd been chosen – was enough.
She lifted her chin to find Mamoru looking down at her, his face warm and concerned, one arm wrapped around her shoulders and not a medical textbook in sight.
"Just the onigiri," she said breathlessly. "I don't want you cooking, I want you to come back to bed and tell me about your day. Your week. Everything."
His cheeks creased in that soft smile, the one that made her heart positively ache. The one she hadn't known had always been for her.
"I'd like that," he said, pulling a large Senshi-painted bento from the fridge and closing the door. "What do you want to hear first?"
XX
AN: This concludes the main plot, hooray! I always love getting these two crazy kids together, and I hope you enjoyed it too.
On a more personal note, I've been giving it some thought and while I don't think I'm ready to part ways with FFN just yet, I've been considering it for a while. This site has so many invasive ads, the messaging system is glitchy, customer support is nonexistent, I live in fear of another purge deleting half my work and my reviews, and AO3 is just miles better and has been my preferred platform for at least a year. So, if you like my work and want to be sure to catch everything I write in the future, I highly recommend following me on AO3 (my pen name there is Daikon1). The epilogue of this story will be posted on FFN, and probably the next one or two things I write will be too, but I think I might start weaning myself off this site soon. Again, if you like my work and want to continue following me, I recommend moving over to Tumblr and AO3.
Thank you for reading, and I'd love to hear what you thought; keep an eye out for the epilogue, coming soon!