Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective owner(s) and I make no profit from this story.
A Taste
His lips were what she noticed first.
Since that day he'd sat at the bottom of the shrine steps, his ogre mask skewed slightly to the side, it was without exception what she noticed first about him. His eyes were a close second, large embers of red with a tendency to regard her with hot intensity. After that, she would take in the horns curling through his ebony hair, and how tall and imposing he seemed in his long, black haori.
But she always came back to his lips.
"Aoi, your attention seems to be…elsewhere."
It wasn't his smooth voice snapping her gaze to his; it was the slight curl of those lips. She felt the flush feather over her cheeks and set her tea down, hoping the movement would conceal her embarrassment at having been caught. She tried to observe him unobtrusively, watching how he moved, catching the expressions on his face. She liked when she served him a dish he particularly enjoyed. On those occasions, his smile reached his eyes, making them spark like rubies. She also, she admitted, liked to see when his mouth pulled down into a frustrated line. It made her feel a little less like an inadequate human to know the ogre didn't have it all figured out, even though he'd lived long enough to appear to have control over everything.
"I apologize," she murmured. "I was thinking of how to improve the noodle dish I served last night."
A short silence came from Odanna. Aoi dared a glance back up at him, finding his eyes on her again. Their avidness made the breath catch in her chest. No matter the situation, he did everything with quiet fervor. Now, deep curiosity swirled carmine through his gaze.
"Perhaps I should leave you, then." It didn't quite come out as a question.
"Oh, no!" She swiftly stood, nearly tipping the table in the process. She noticed Odanna put a hand calmly on top of it, keeping it—and his tea—securely in place. "I have something for you."
His eyes turned bright red and the barest of space appeared between his lips when he was surprised, which from Aoi's observations wasn't often. She hurried into the kitchen and opened the icebox, then returned with two plates.
"You said you didn't always enjoy things that are too sweet," she said. "So I made this dessert for you. The only sugars in it are from the fruit and honey, which I know you like."
Odanna looked up from his plate. Those wonderful lips curved into a wide smile. "Do you remember everyone's likes and dislikes?" he asked.
Aoi resumed her place across from him, trying to shake herself from the tingles of delight she felt whenever she managed to get that smile from him. It was full of honest pleasure, a little surprise, and a hint of sensuality.
Or maybe she imagined that last part.
"Usually," she admitted. "You, for instance, prefer your tamagoyaki with green onion, you prefer less salt than most of the ayakashi, and like natural sweetness in your dishes."
She wasn't imagining it now, not with the hint of fang showing as his smile broadened. He rested an elbow on the table and his chin in his hand as he regarded her. Ignoring the way the heat of his gaze warmed every inch of her skin, Aoi picked up her fork and cut off a bite-sized piece of the fruit tart.
"I don't know why you're looking at me like that," she finally huffed. Odanna's gaze hadn't wavered from her.
"I'm trying to think when it was you paid enough attention to me to know my favorite dishes," he replied.
I pay attention to you all the time, Aoi thought. A painful amount of attention, if she were to be honest with herself.
Because at first, the thought of marrying the ogre in front of her was overwhelming, frightening, and ridiculous. She was an independent woman and would not be bought, sold, traded, or owned by anyone. She would work off her grandfather's debt in the hidden realm just as she would have back home.
After so much time at Tenjin-ya, though, she realized the ogre wasn't as terrifying as he first appeared. She knew a ferociousness lurked within him—she had seen it directed toward those who would harm her, and even then knew it only hinted at what he was capable of. That ferocity lay dormant under most circumstances. What Aoi was left with was an innkeeper who was quietly playful, who earned the trust and loyalty of those he employed by being fair and kind. He was soft-spoken, never raising his voice in anger unless warranted, and elegantly mannered.
Aoi was drawn to him in a way she never thought would be possible. It helped he had a gentle personality toward her and was handsome in a way she knew wasn't realistic in the apparent realm. Tonight, the warming weather caused him to shed his customary fur-collared haori, and he wore a simplified version of his normal black and red kimono. The vee of material at his throat dipped further down than usual, exposing the delicate beginnings of his collarbones and enough of his chest to tease. The ember glow of his eyes watched her with amusement, while a small bit of fang still showed. All of these things were enough to make her acutely aware of him.
But, really, it was those lips, she knew.
"I've lost you again, my dear."
Aoi took a deep breath. She stood to clear the dishes. When he had finished his tart, she had no idea; she'd been too caught up in him to notice anything as paltry as dessert. It was easier to think with her back to him, easier to breathe in a way that didn't make her feel lightheaded.
She must have given something away, though. Or perhaps it had been her lack of response to his musings that alerted him. Whatever it was, as Aoi set the dishes into the sink, as she prepared to clean up, long, dark taloned fingers wrapped around her wrist.
For some reason, she always thought he would be cool to the touch. But his skin was hot, almost feverishly so. As he neatly turned her to face him, as a sharp talon gently encouraged her to look up at him by lightly scraping under her chin, she thought how she shouldn't be surprised by his heat. Because his eyes were like molten glass when he looked down at her.
The scent of him, light as cherry blossoms and dark as midnight, enveloped her. She wondered where they went from here. This was a familiar position, being close enough she could fold herself against him, yet far enough away for her to pull back if she wanted. She thought perhaps he did it out of respect for her boundaries, but it was a frustrating game Odanna played; the ogre constantly coming near, yet always retreating at the last minute. It left her heart floundering with confusion in her chest, stole her breath, and denied the heat in her veins any kind of release.
It was a game she didn't want to play anymore.
She shifted forward enough to close the space between their bodies, sank the fingers of her free hand into the silky darkness of his hair, and raised herself up on the balls of her feet. She let her mouth hover over his, felt the way the air cooled as he pulled away all the warmth with his surprised inhale.
"Your lips," she murmured. Her gaze flickered up and saw the way his brow furrowed slightly in bewilderment. "That's what I pay attention to. The smiles, the frowns, the laughter passing through them, the fleeting moments of sadness touching them. The words they form and the silences they keep." She allowed her eyes to drop to his mouth, resisting the urge to lick her own lips. "I wonder how they would taste now. Like honey? Strawberries? Whipped cream?" She thought he may have quit breathing altogether as she pressed closer. "I don't want to eat you, Odanna," she whispered. "I just want to taste you."
Never could she have imagined his reaction. The hand still around her wrist tightened just short of being painful, and the sharp talon under her chin, which had slipped to her throat with her forward movements, pricked her skin. His eyes turned a shade of burgundy so dark they were almost black, then burst with scarlet flames. He released her wrist, wrapped one arm around her waist, cradled the back of her head with the other hand, and crushed her against himself. She could feel that ferocity in him, barely contained. It made the air vibrate around them, quivered through his entire body.
The heat of his mouth matched the heat in his gaze and the heat in her veins. Aoi closed her eyes and willfully sank into the kiss. If it burned her, if it reduced her to nothing but a pile of ashes in the end, it was worth it.
Because he tasted like honey mixed with the perfect bitterness of dark chocolate. And she couldn't get enough—would never get enough. She allowed her freed hand to trace a line down his neck, seek out the hollow between his collarbones, then navigate to where skin met fabric. Further down and the sash holding his kimono closed was hardly an obstacle; nimble fingers made quick work of the knot, allowing them to slip beneath the material.
"Aoi."
She'd never heard her name said that way. Strangled, pained, pleading. She stole the sound from him by covering his mouth with hers again.
Her wandering hand was captured, and he shifted his other to the back of her neck. With a gentle push and pull, Odanna severed their connection. Aoi was left reeling, still not satisfied.
"Aoi." Her name came out differently this time, softly, full of wonder and surprise. When she looked up to his eyes, she found them closed. "I think…this may not be wise."
She felt a little taken aback. Wasn't this an inevitable conclusion? Did he think they would simply flirt their way through a married life?
The flames still licking the irises of his eyes when he opened them made her understand what he was saying.
"Do you think you'll hurt me, Odanna?" she whispered. The line of his mouth thinned into a grimace. "What were you planning to do once we were married?"
He blinked, several times, and Aoi almost laughed. Had he not thought about this part? Surely.
"We aren't married yet, though," he pointed out, avoiding the question. "To do this now…"
Aoi tilted her head to the side and chuckled at the implication. "Please, Odanna. You haven't spent as much time in the apparent realm as you boast if you don't know that hardly matters these days."
With a twist, she released her wrist from his grasp, stepped forward, and slid her hand through the part in his kimono. She found the hot, sleek skin and hard muscle of his chest she originally sought. And felt the way his heart leapt to meet her exploring fingers.
"I knew from the moment I brought you here you would test my resolve," Odanna said, his voice tightly strained again. "But I never imagined it would be like this."
Aoi pulled him down until they were cheek to cheek. "It isn't a test," she whispered in his ear. "It's a taste."
If the ayakashi had swear words, she imagined that's what breathed from Odanna's lips.
A/N: I don't normally write about fascinations with particular body parts (I don't actually write for this fandom, either…), but I recently developed an interest in these characters while re-watching the show. If you don't mind my version of Aoi being a little less swoony and a little more bold, I may come back. I hope you enjoy!
