A/N: A fair amount of steam ahoy. Turn back now if you can't take the heat :P

INFLECTION POINT

4. Indecent Ascent

Yuno had had his fill of the noisy royal tonight, so he slumps back into his chair, and closes his eyes, electing to ignore the knock.

"I'm sleeping," he groans at a higher volume.

The knocking only comes louder and faster, and his pure irritation eventually pulls him up and onto his feet. Dragging himself to the door, he opens it just enough to pop his head out, to find Noelle standing there expectantly with her arms crossed, now clad in her dress, sans Black Bulls robe.

"What?" he blinks down at her, not even attempting to mask his annoyance. "Have you come to splash me more?"

Noelle gives pause, momentarily unsettled by his half naked appearance, but she quickly regains her composure, face taking on its typical snooty quality.

"I'm coming in," she declares, and before he can object she pushes the door open and pushes past him.

"I was just about to sleep," he grumbles, closing the door behind her.

When he turns around, he finds her several paces away, leering at him in silence. He sighs, fairly certain he knew the reason for this disturbance.

"If you're here to make sure I don't gossip about your feelings for Asta, I'll say it again: I truly don't care enough to talk about it to—"

"What was that?" Noelle all but spits, eyes narrowed.

He blinks at her confusedly, apparently incorrect in his assumption.

"What was what?"

"Downstairs!" she exclaims, cheeks beginning to pinken, though she maintains her scowl.

"You mean, you constantly drenching me in water?" he replies flatly with an unenthused cock of an eyebrow.

"No…" she seethes, stammering and apparently trying to grasp at what exactly she should be angry with him for. "When you… when—when Captain Yami came in, and…"

She trails off, but she doesn't even need to complete her sentence, as his brain does so on her behalf. Suddenly, the images and sensations are vivid—the tension in his body, the look in her eyes, her breath on his mouth, feeling himself shifting forward, feeling himself let it happen, and feeling himself want it to happen.

'Oh.'

"You tell me," he replies as flatly and coolly as possible in an attempt to skirt around the issue, for some inexplicable reason beginning to grow warm. "You're the one that started hosing me down out of nowhere. I was just trying to stop you."

Noelle looks as if steam is about to blow out of her ears any second now, and as though she's winding up to explode into an unpleasantly loud chewing out. But instead, she blurts:

"You almost kissed me!"

Yuno stiffens, truly at a loss for what to say. He had hoped that she wouldn't have the courage to actually verbalize the obvious. But, within a matter of seconds, he decides that he is more annoyed than embarrassed at the resurfacing of the topic, both because he felt that he shouldn't have had to deal with the consequences of something that hadn't even amounted to anything, and, her framing of the situation was skewed, given that she had been every bit as responsible for the near-liplock.

"Well… the fact is nothing actually happened," he echoes his thoughts with a light shrug, hoping to put the matter to rest with this statement alone.

However, the stretch of silence that follows, in addition to his situationally and alcohol-induced grumpiness and looseness, gives way to the next words out of his mouth.

"And, don't even try to pin this all on me. You wanted me to kiss you."

Noelle's eyes widen, suddenly in much closer proximity, and it's only now that he notices that they had been striding towards each other the entire time.

He stares her down, ever the master of aloofness, watching the gears turn in her head. He wonders what kind of nonsense she would try to spit back at him this time. Of course she would deny it. She'd probably throw in some accusation about how it had been his plan all along, and how dare he ever insinuate she would want to kiss a peasant and blah blah blah.

"Don't stand there and pretend like you didn't want to," she says quietly.

Turns out, he was completely wrong. He feels himself tense up, noting the deflection, which contained neither a denial or confirmation of his bold and borderline accusatory claim. He finds himself just the least bit impressed that she had proven his assumption about her wrong, and had even forced him to actually think up a response.

While he typically would have immediately scoffed and called such a claim ridiculous, he had a hard time doing so, because she was unfortunately not wrong. For some reason he could not place, he had been physically drawn to her at that moment, which made no sense at all, given the heat and bitterness of their previous interactions. In truth, there had been stirrings of something he hadn't ever felt before, and he was just loose enough to follow his curiosity and explore them, rather than shove them away as he might have any other day.

"It just felt inevitable for a split second," he lets slip, horrified the minute the words leave his mouth, and he must tear away from her gaze briefly to hide the shock at his own unintentional honesty. A sober Yuno would never have admitted such a thing, and he finds himself once again cursing the spell of that vile, disgusting liquid that had rendered him too stupid and careless for his liking.

When he is able to calm himself down and maintain the integrity of his stoic expression, he looks back at Noelle, expecting to find some sick amusement on her face, followed by a rant about how he should know his place and blah blah blah. However, she surprises him again when what he finds is curiosity in her searching magenta gaze, brow scrunched in concentration. Perhaps even she was at a loss for words about what to do with all of this uncharacteristic honesty. She parts her lips to speak, closes them as though rethinking her words. After some time, she finally says:

"So why didn't you?"

There is only pure stifling silence as he feels his cool composure begin to crack, eyebrows twitching, eyes widening in the slightest, mostly from his complete and utter confusion at what exactly was taking place. He stares at her longer, wondering if perhaps he had imagined the question. But when she says nothing and instead cocks an eyebrow at him expectantly, he finds himself struggling to grasp for a response.

"I feel like that's fairly obvious," he begins, gathering his bearings, trying his best to infuse his typical brand of sarcastic venom into his words. "Or, do you not remember Captain Yami coming in, and you literally blasting me away? And there's also the fact that you had just been talking about how much you adore Asta—"

"I wouldn't stop you if you tried again."

The statement rolls off of her tongue as easily as any other taunt she might have tossed his way, as she wears him down with the intensity of her gaze.

"... What?" is all he can muster, exhaling the word as though she had just uttered something ridiculous, judgement and confusion infusing the lone syllable. However, his tone is not meant to mock or disparage, but is reflective of his genuine feelings. At this point, he could honestly say he had no idea what was happening.

Though the sense of determination in Noelle's expression does not falter, there is slight panic in her eyes—as though she is perhaps trying to grasp for some reason to justify the bold statement without incriminating herself.

"Well… since it already almost happened, I figured I might as well just get it over with so I'm not nervous for when it actually counts with someone special," she says, sticking her nose in the air in the way that she usually does, looking past him. "And there's no point in denying that you have some sort of interest in it."

Yuno stares down at her, his poor, swishy brain struggling to make sense of the situation and its absurdity. She had essentially just admitted that she had, in fact, wanted him to kiss her—in the most roundabout way of course, framed in a way that shielded her from appearing to be rejected, no matter what his response was.

'She's good,' he finds himself passively and begrudgingly thinking, feeling an even mixture of respect and annoyance.

Noelle's eyes are back on his as she awaits his answer, and he takes his sweet time as he unflinchingly returns her gaze.

Ultimately, the offer boiled down to the fact that she wanted to use him as practice for Asta.

He wonders why he is the lucky winner, so to speak. Just because something had nearly happened between them in the heat of the moment didn't necessarily limit her options to him alone. There was probably no shortage of men that would gladly help her with her predicament.

But then it dawns on Yuno that he had seen her at what was likely a personal worst. Even if this new experience was unpleasant, or if she was "bad", she'd have no qualms about it as there was truly nowhere but up to go with him in terms of his perception of her—and it appeared she didn't really care what he thought of her. Additionally, he had also communicated to her on multiple occasions that he was not one for gossip. Maybe she took some comfort in the fact that he was unlikely to spread the word about a liplock with her, like some lesser men might. And, there was also the fact that the chances of things becoming complicated between them were slim to none, as they rarely ever interacted.

From all angles, it appeared that Noelle viewed him as the perfect experimental partner.

Yuno is admittedly just marginally intrigued. Even so, he balks at the thought, if only for the possibility of eventual blowback—that tomorrow, when she woke up sober, she would regret it and give him hell for it.

"You're drunk," he says with a shake of his head. "I'm not having you come up to me tomorrow and accusing me of taking advantage of you."

Even through her glower, she looks pleased that he hadn't outright rejected the proposal.

"First of all, I'm completely coherent and basically sober. Secondly, I wouldn't do that—and I'm honestly insulted that you think I would. I'm clearly giving you my permission here. Lastly, I never want to talk about it again, afterwards."

The silence hangs in the air, and he's unsure of what to say. He has half a mind to do it just to get her to go away so he can finally rest.

But on the other hand, was it worth it to degrade himself to being someone's practice—much less practice for Asta? It's not like she needed it anyway. If ever the two got together, Asta would likely still be completely clueless about such things.

Then again, feeling "used" in this particular realm wasn't a concern of his, as he felt quite detached from such matters. A kiss was the mere pressing of one's lips to another's, after all. He failed to see what was so enticing and exciting about it, and wondered how an action so odd by nature ('What's so special about pushing the thing you use to eat and speak against someone else's thing they use to eat and speak?') was given such significance. This is, at least, what he had thought inwardly for the longest time.

Today, however, he had discovered that his body apparently disagreed with his rationale, because it was barely an hour ago when he had felt compelled—by his own desire—to kiss Noelle. He had partly been acting out of curiosity to see what the fuss was about, and partly for some other reason he could not place.

After a long pause, he feels his head begin to ache and finds that he can no longer think anymore, his brain reaching its rational capacity in its current state. Now, all he wants is to be left alone to recover in peace, and obliging the odd request was the most efficient path forward. At least it was also an opportunity to sate his curiosity and prove to himself just how ridiculous all the hype around this kissing business was.

'Screw it.'

"Tell me that you want it."

Noelle visibly tenses, eyes growing just the slightest bit wider, clearly not expecting the bold demand.

"Tell me that you want it, and I'll do it," he says firmly, maintaining his flat composure.

He expects a tirade of how she was a royal and that she'd never do anything so beneath her, and he should be so lucky to be offered such an opportunity and blah blah blah. But, once again, she shocks him when she shifts and squares her shoulders, arms at her sides as she faces him, apparently preparing herself. He is bewildered by her compliance—either she was less sober than she let on, or she was truly determined to make this happen.

"Kiss me," Noelle commands quietly—and she might as well have said "fight" me, with the way she is looking at him.

Again, she had found a way to respond to his demand by issuing her own, that mixture of begrudging respect and annoyance resurfacing. The response is certainly a different version of the confirmation he had sought, but sufficient enough. After all, aside from an attempt to assert dominance, he had mostly been seeking explicit consent to avoid being hunted down by her the next day.

Though he finds the situation absurd and a mere obstacle to sweet solitude and rest, Yuno feels his heart rate pick up—in the same way it had at the close of their impromptu match a couple of weeks back.

"Fine," he finally says, standing straighter and stepping closer.

She squeezes her eyes shut, head tilted upwards, cheeks flushed, and it's almost comical because she looks like she's willing him to burst into flames with her mind.

Even looking as ridiculous as she does, he can feel himself grow warm, an unfamiliar anxiety spreading through his body as he clears his throat and moves closer to her.

"I'm going to do it now," he says.

"Fine."

Yuno steps forward once more, arms awkwardly pinned to his sides. With one last sharp inhale through the nose and a heavy exhale, he steels himself and bends forward. Taking one last look at her ridiculously concentrated face, he closes his eyes and presses his lips to hers.

Before making contact, it had been transactional. A way to feed his curiosity, maybe to have one strange secret win over his rival, while at the same time swatting this annoying fly of a woman away so he could be done with her.

But it is the during that is confusing—confusing enough to have him linger against her. Her lips are soft and warm as she returns the chaste kiss with the slightest pucker and push, and it has his stomach fluttering, and there is just the smallest feeling of release and relief, as though it was something that had been bound to happen sooner or later.

He doesn't like it.

More specifically, he doesn't like that he likes it.

His duty now fulfilled, he pulls back, lips slowly peeling off of hers, feeling alarmed that he had actually found the experience pleasant—even worse, maybe more than pleasant.

Yuno clears his throat when her eyes remain closed, watching them slowly flutter open in response.

They regard one another in silence for a moment, and he admittedly finds himself searching her face for some indication that she too had felt positively about the experience.

"Happy?" he grumbles just above a whisper, face still hovering close to hers.

She leers up at him, and there is a look in her eye that only serves to worsen the fluttering in his stomach and the strange yearning that has suddenly appeared.

"You call that a kiss?" she challenges in an equally quiet grumble.

He holds her gaze, confused at the sense of relief he feels as he recognizes the taunt for what it is—an invitation.

"Fine," he responds, maybe a little too quickly.

And again they're in a stare-off not unlike the one they'd had at the end of their impromptu sparring session—her expression challenging and determined, his bleary gaze cool and observant, that familiar energy sparking between them, urging that something happen.

Noelle closes her eyes again as Yuno unfists his hands at his sides. He gently grips the sides of her upper arms and bends forward, closing his eyes once more as he presses his mouth to hers.

He can feel the chatter in his mind slowly die down as he focuses on the warmth of her lips, plush and soft against his. She then captures his bottom lip between hers, and he is intrigued by the sensation, mimicking her motions as he feels her hand slide onto his face, palm soft on his jawline, his own hands moving to rest on her hips. Their experimental lock is tender, exploratory and cautious, and even respectful, given the space that still existed between their bodies. The continued, gentle tug of her lips makes his head spin, the tenderness gradually beginning to dissipate as mutual confidence builds, giving rise to a sense of urgency in their motions.

With every second spent pressed against her, Yuno finds his body begin to grow restless, resisting the sudden urge to pull her in against himself. However, he is left with little choice the moment he feels her tongue lap up against his bottom lip—at which he reflexively sharply exhales, his tongue acting on its own accord to slide against hers as he pulls her flush against himself. Noelle hums a muffled yelp against his mouth at the sudden movement, but he learns it's not at all in protest when he feels her slide her fingers into his hair, gripping gently at his raven locks.

Then they pull apart, and he opens his eyes to find her grouchy facade gone as he stares into darkened, half-lidded magentas, her gaze heavy with want, eyebrows for once not knit together in annoyance, but raised as if in a daze, and it makes his stomach flip. He had technically made good on their agreement at this point, but has forgotten there ever even was an agreement, as he attempts to read her face to infer what should happen next.

Gone is the need to interpret anything when they begin to move slowly towards one another, that magnetic pull coming into play once more. It's not long until his forehead is pressed to hers, and both her hands are cupping either side of his face. He turns his head just slightly so his nose grazes hers, as he slides his hands onto the small of her back, pressing her in closer. She lets out a gentle gasp in response, and lets her eyes droop shut as she leans against him.

Yuno finds himself both entranced and tantalized by the steadily building anticipation as they remain still, breathing one another's air. He wonders what she's thinking as she stands in his gentle hold. Perhaps it is just now dawning on her that she was in a lover's stance with a half naked man she barely knew, who she didn't even like all that much. Perhaps she was having second thoughts—but he discovers just how wrong he is again, when he feels her pull his face in and press her lips to his once more.

Now, gone is the ability to think or even hold back, in its place hypersensitivity to her velvet lips on his, to her tongue, to her touch, to her scent, and all of it feels so goddamn good, and it is all so foreign to him. Everything is a blur, and he only realizes that they have descended onto the mattress when he feels the gravity shift from bending to hover over her, a hand planted on the mattress to hold himself up. He opens his eyes to the sight of her flushed face and swollen lips, her pigtails splayed on the sheets, all from their overenthusiastic kissing. He doesn't get to stare for very long, as Noelle pulls his face down and dims his world once more.

Rationality and sense have long left the room, because Yuno doesn't even think about how this was just supposed to be one kiss, per some stupid agreement. He doesn't even think about the fact that they had just come out of a conversation fully revolving around how wonderful Asta was, and how much she adored him. It feels like that might have happened months ago, maybe even in another universe, because nothing about the relentless and eager tug of her hands and her lips feels odd to him.

In fact, Yuno feels right at home, as it starts to feel like he's engaged in another version of battle and competition. With each escalating touch, it is as though he is running to catch up to her, and to ensure that he can best her at the stimulating sensations she has introduced to him, so he can make her want it more.

To this end, he gently bites her bottom lip, dragging his teeth back slowly, and she gasps, stoking the fire already burning wildly within him because that there is another little victory, and he loves to win.

He nuzzles her neck, frustrated by the collar blocking access to her skin, and almost immediately she responds in kind, the golden collar coming loose as she pulls it down just enough to expose her flesh.

So he takes in her scent as he trails kisses down her neck, gently suckling the flesh there, tugging the collar even further down, the sleeves sliding off just enough to bare her shoulders, as he peppers kisses there as well. Noelle hisses at the sensation, body writhing beneath his, gasping and moaning quietly with every kiss pressed onto her soft skin.

"Don't you dare leave a mark," she breathes out, and he smirks against her skin and gently nibbles, dragging his teeth back slowly, eliciting a quivering gasp from the seemingly pleased royal. At this, she pushes against his chest all of a sudden, just a shadow of that grouchy expression she always wears playing on her lustful gaze as she pats the space next to her in invitation.

He obeys without hesitation, bending down to kiss her once more as he lays on his side—kissing her, as she forcefully pushes him over by the shoulder and crawls onto him.

Noelle settles into the straddle—before sharply flinching away, and then cautiously setting herself back down onto his lap.

"What is it?" he asks, taken momentarily out of his happy place, concerned that he had done something untoward.

"Your… I can feel…. you," she says quietly.

When what she is referring to dawns on his slow, inebriated brain, Yuno feels his entire face burn.

"Sorry," he says, cursing the heat rising in his cheeks as he tries his very best to maintain his stoic expression, now painfully aware of his hardening manhood pressed against her very warm crotch. "You should get off—ah…"

He is mortified at having slipped out a moan—but it is all because she has begun to grind against him. And suddenly she is paces ahead of him again, the upper hand all hers as she continues her motions, apparently amused at his slip of expression that was a far departure from the stony mug and monotone he presented to the world by default.

"You don't want to do that," he cautions her, hands on her hips in an attempt to hold her still as he sits up. "It'll make it worse."

But she doesn't stop, and instead watches his face intently. He has never felt so exposed because he is just barely in control of whatever expression his face decides to make in reaction to the motion of her hips, his anatomy growing harder with each languid stroke.

"Noelle…" he hisses, trying to sound aggravated and threatening, but instead sounding begrudgingly aroused.

She slides her arms around the back of his neck again, one hand in his hair as she stares into his eyes, and they are nose at nose, breathing each other's air.

"Do you really want me to stop?" she breathes out against him, of course not stopping.

'No,' he thinks automatically, weak and helpless under her magenta smolder.

"It... feels good, but—"

"Then shut up," she says, stifling any further objections with a kiss.

And now he is under her spell completely, a slave to the motion of her lips and her hips and her tongue. As he sinks further into the void, he wonders if this is perhaps a dream. At this point it's the only rational explanation for how far things have escalated—the only rational explanation for Noelle Silva bursting into his room demanding to be kissed, now sitting atop him and essentially dry humping him.

It is when he feels his body begin to tighten with inevitability that his fighting spirit comes alive. She had cornered him, put him under some spell by her scent and skin and mouth and hips, but he would not give her the satisfaction of his full surrender. His resolve strengthened, he pulls her into a functional embrace, only to lift her again.

"What are you—?!" Noelle exclaims, reflexively wrapping her legs around his waist for security.

He carries her over to the armchair and sits back down at its edge, feeling some satisfaction at having cracked the cocky confidence she had been conducting herself with.

"I couldn't contribute from there," he remarks, eyes briefly flicking to the bed as he firmly plants his hands on her hips, sliding her up his lap to adjust their position, until he feels her damp warmth against the flimsy cloth of his pants once more.

She looks confused, then frazzled when he grinds back up against her clothed heat, the solid ground beneath his feet providing leverage enough to even the playing field.

"I wasn't—" she gasps as he rubs up against her again "—I wasn't asking you to," she breathes out irritably, finally registering Yuno's attempt at a power play.

He stares intently at her as he moves his hips again, watching her expression glitch in response.

"You're gonna come first," he says with finality.

Noelle looks taken aback, clearly not expecting him to verbalize and imply what had been her initial intent for him, her cheeks flushing harder.

"Don't make me laugh," she scoffs as she quickly regains her composure, firmly planting a hand on his shoulder, slowly stirring against him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as subtly as possible, though the flicker of amusement on her face tells him the reaction hadn't gone unnoticed.

Now they are both moving against one another, almost clumsily, but effectively, eyes caught in an electric gaze, another competition of sorts now on the table, one attempting to drive the other to madness.

Almost forcefully, he pulls her in against him, kissing her with fervor, his hands sliding under her dress, both hands squeezing her pliable rear, eliciting something partway between a moan and a gasp into his mouth. He almost expects her to pull back in protest, and maybe even issue a slap to his face, but she only moves against him with more eagerness, arms tightening around him as he continues to grope her.

At this point, Yuno is admittedly just hanging on by a thread, and would likely have come long ago if not for the alcohol's reduction of his sensitivity. And even then, he feels himself inch closer to the edge as he pulls back just slightly to watch the pleasure blossom onto Noelle's face, which in itself is a small victory. It encourages him to move against her with even more zest, eliciting a whimper from her swollen, rosebud lips, her fingers gripping his raven locks as she draws in closer, pressing her mouth to his again. This time their kiss is sloppy and crude, tongues tangling, and they're not even bothering to close their eyes—and though there is just the faint shadow of her usual scowl on her face, her half lidded magentas peer into his attentive ambers with a submissiveness that is maddening all on its own.

Noelle then leans back and angles herself against him, one hand on his shoulder as she adjusts. And then he imagines something has gone terribly right, because her mouth drops agape, her body beginning to tighten in his grasp, fingernails digging into his shoulder as she continues to roll her hips against him with renewed enthusiasm. He can feel his own breathing quicken just by watching the helplessness spread on her face, and it is so incredibly satisfying to know that he is responsible for the fact that she can no longer scowl or even speak, her face now awash with pleasure and lewd surrender as she peers back into his eyes. It has him moving against her with vigor, his own body tightening, all of it sending his mind higher, up and up and up to a peak without return—and then she lets out the most desperate whimper, silver eyebrows arching up into an expression to match, and it shoves him right over the edge and he is done. Suddenly his body jolts and he is spilling out into his own pajama pants, grunting as his hips frantically jerk up into hers, hands gripping her tightly and holding her in place, all the while watching her eyes grow wide before they shut tight. She then lets out a strangled moan, falling onto him, pulling him into an embrace, face in the crook of his neck, moans muffled against his skin as her entire body shudders against his.

And then they are left panting, neither looking at the other, locked in a loose embrace, his arms encircling her lower back to hold her in place, as whatever spell had fallen upon them begins to lift slowly.

After a few beats, Yuno begins to register the uncomfortable sensation of his own seed smeared into his pajama pants, the reality of the situation slowly dawning on him.

They both seem to come back to earth at the same time, as neither one moves an inch to look at the other.

After some time, it is Noelle who gathers her courage first and shifts back, peering at him with her usual embarrassed scowl, though now it is glazed over by an exhausted glow, her cheeks flushed from their activities, lips swollen and parted just slightly as she continues to pant, her dress collar peeled forward and baring her shoulders. Even while technically physically satisfied and running on empty, Yuno begrudgingly feels his stomach stir at the titillating sight.

Now he is unsure of what to do—should he kiss her? Was that something one was supposed to do after something like this?

And then slowly, clarity begins to form as he recalls that he was only supposed to kiss her as some part of a weird experimental request.

At the recollection, he is rendered dumbstruck at how far things had escalated.

When Noelle finally catches her breath, there is no declaration of love or admiration or explanation. Slowly, she backs off of his lap and he hates that the disappearance of her warmth and weight on him feels like a loss. She stands, dusting herself off, timidly staring at the ground as she turns around, her back to him while she adjusts her collar.

Yuno watches her fumble with the clasp and almost automatically rises to his feet, sensing her tense up as he steps towards her. Wordlessly, he gently shoos her fingers away from the back of her neck with his, and fastens her collar back into place.

His hands drop to his sides once the favor is completed, and they stand in silence.

Another beat passes, and she strides over to the door without saying anything or even looking back at him, but pauses when she places her hand on the doorknob.

"Goodnight."

And then she is gone, and Yuno is alone once more, staring at the door, wondering with each passing second if he had perhaps just risen from a dream.

A/N: Well that escalated.

Thanks again to all who left reviews/comments. They are legit my main motivation to take my potato-state drafts and mould something actually legible and enjoyable out of them, as they're a reminder that there are humans who are actually enjoying and consuming this content. Anyone who left a thoughtful comment—this chapter is way longer and more fleshed out than the first draft thanks to you, so you can give yourself a pat on the back for that.

As a reminder—this is predominantly a rom-com fic (with a significant amount of smut sprinkled in there). There will probably be some canon stuff not addressed in the fic, because it is irrelevant to the story. If I don't mention it, you don't have to worry or think about it in the context of this fic :)

Lastly, this fic has grown beyond 12 chapters. Sigh. It's tortuous being a writer who actually gives a shit about pacing. So, might I go mad and realize my devotion to this fic is unhealthy and just whittle down the story? Or will I persist and make it a loooot longer than I thought (it was only supposed to be 7 chapters initially smh)? Anything is possible at this point, so I'm going to stop giving y'all updates on how long it might be because it'll probably continue to fluctuate from here.

And… that's all. Go ahead and drop me a line on your way out—would love to hear what you think about our bratty couple's first steamy encounter, and even your speculations on what may happen next :)

See ya next time.