So I had an EXHAUSTING Thursday and I hope yours was a little more relaxed. Either way, I hope this kiss cheers you up!

A Kiss As A "Yes"

Most of Mamoru's kisses were a no.

Just this one.
Don't let anyone see.
Let's be quick.
Don't go further.

He didn't even really mean it. It wasn't that he didn't want that sort of affection. That he didn't want her kisses. Not at all, no. And yet, this was his default. His kisses spoke in nos.

When he turned his eyes away and into his books when she snuggled against him. When he ended kisses first, every time. When he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back when it was 'done', sometimes. When he didn't… When he turned every which way in a clearly deserted greenhouse at a flower show and unable to enjoy the moment, her proximity, and instead had just… left. With her puckered lips waiting for him, and were instead to be pranked by her friends (and future daughter).

His kisses were too often a no, and he really didn't like it that way.

Always a 'not allowed to'. Too often a 'you shouldn't have that'. The latter was something his mind whispered at him from that dark place, that toxic place that wouldn't leave from his thoughts however hard he tried to banish it, that only knew isolation and abandonment and was secretly waiting for those ever-present threats to return and fill him up. He knew listening to it would only ever hurt. He knew listening to it was not only hurting him. But listening to it came as second nature. It was always right there, easiest too grasp.

Don't.
Stay back.
This is too far.
Play it safe.
Reel it back in.
You could burn.
(You might like burning too much.)

She doesn't mean it.
This is too much, it's not appropriate.
She's just affectionate.
She can't actually want you in the way she implies.
What if she thinks you're pushy?
She's better off without you.

He liked to tell himself some of these whispers at least came from a place of respect. But really, he knew better. He knew they came from inhibition and a wonky relationship with intimacy.

There was, after all - if Usagi had taught him anything at all - nothing disrespectful about a kiss that came from love and pure intention. They weren't wrong. Kisses like that were worship and savoring and love, that's what her heart spoke. They weren't tainted. At least they shouldn't be.

Usagi's kisses tended to be quite overwhelming yeses.

Her kisses were never restrained, never holding back. They were free, jubilant, exuberant, screaming waves of open affection and acceptance. They were ... full. They were full and filling and promising of more and happy and bliss. They were were waking up early on a Sunday morning and realising you were allowed to stay in bed for however long you might decide. They were the first day of vacation where everything is free choice and allowed to go slow and peaceful. They're the feeling you have when you finished something important early and well and to your fullest satisfaction and then have energy to tackle more. They're sunsets when you're looking forward to the night, they're knowing there's a second serving to that delicious dish you're eating right now, they're waking up with longing but then remembering that you were allowed to have now, to keep now.

There was more where they came from, always more, always uplifting.

They're her standing on her tiptoes with her heart open on her lips and angled up at him and only him. They were starting kisses and demanding kisses and not wanting them to end. They were the small blush on her cheeks right before and right after, they were her curled hands pulling him back towards her even when he was already retreating.

They were home and unconditional and came without an end. An endless overflowing well of gentle, giving love. Always more. Always for him.

There was nothing disrespectful about that. Nothing, nothing at all. There was only acceptance and belonging that he could find there.

Her kisses told different stories than his.

Give me more. Always just one more.

I can't get enough of you.
I'll always be here offering.
I adore you.
I enjoy you, I cherish you, I miss you.
I want all of you.
I love you.

And jeeze how he yearned for these stories in her kiss. How everything in him ached and pulled to get more of what she could so freely give and he felt so ashamed to be so bad at.

But he wanted to. He wanted to so badly.

And so sometimes, he tried.

"Usako…" he whispered towards that stunning sunset she'd begged for him to stay with her and watch after the world had calmed down and Tuxedo Mask and Sailor Moon were no longer needed. He flexed his gloved fingers and they found hers responding, always responding.

"Hm?"

She barely moved. Her booted foot dangled every so slightly off the orangy-red steel beam that Tokyo Tower was made of by half. Her head on his shoulder moved across his cape, her tiara catching in his hair a little as she angled her chin up just a tiny fraction in reaction, her cheek moving against him.

He turned fully to her, this time.

The golden glow of the sunset caught in her hair and made it shine like an otherworldly treasure. Her lips were pink and plump and right there and it all hurt in his chest because he wanted that his kisses tasted like this sunset for her, too, and yet he never managed.

He stared.

It was when she shifted against him slightly more, a quizzical look in her eyes, that she moved her eyes from the view of the falling sun to him, and he moved his hand from hers where she'd cradled it between both of hers in her lap. He moved it to stroke up her throat to her chin, and wondered where the sudden hammering heart was coming from.

He sighed when he leaned down, breathed against her lips and touched them with all the softness he could put in it, cradling her face to him and trying to put into his mouth and lips and tongue what these lips were never really able to adequately convey, be it through words or affection or the brush of his kiss.

But he tried, he tried very, very hard.

He didn't end this kiss. And so they missed the last rays of sunset, and his Tuxedo ended up rumpled and his lips tender to the touch and both of them out of breath. But when they eventually let go, she stroked her thumb across his lips and stayed close and didn't go, didn't retreat, because he hadn't pushed her away.

He liked it when she stayed.

So, yes. Sometimes, he managed. Sometimes, he allowed himself to let Tide Usagi pull him under and get lost in that wave of warm, comforting bliss of feeling so unconditionally, fully, overwhelmingly wanted, and he vowed once again to kiss more yeses, too.

He just needed to brace himself a little. So his terrified heart could wait with open arms. But he got better at that all the time.

Because she deserved them. Those kisses that were yeses. Because he wanted her to have them even if there were all these invisible strings forever trying to hold him back.

I love you too.
You're my home.
I'm trying. I'm trying so, so hard.

Setting Tag is uh…. Not so obvious today lol? Take your pick I get, this fits everything from S onwards.

Anyway, all the kisses to you guys! Would love to hear from you!