Happy Monday guys! LAST WEEK OF THESE! CRAZY! Here's a new one for you and I hope you enjoy!
A Kiss Out Of Spite
Sailor Moon cursed loudly around the crash she caused, jumped a fence noisily as she de-transformed, and Tsukino Usagi in her place climbed off property she should not be at, especially close to midnight on a school night. She promptly shrieked loudly and fell off it landing flat on her face in the grass because her orange jacket got tangled in the bars.
She grumbled, rubbing her butt, and mumbled enraged obscenities under her breath over the ruckus she'd already made over the stupid youma and her stupid life, as she hopped onto the low wall that seperated her from non-private property.
And then she shrieked again, because Mamoru-baka stood right in front of her, one eyebrow raised, and she froze mid-hop, eye twitching.
"Oi," he deadpanned. She supposed it was meant to be a greeting. But he just stood there, one hand on his hip, watching her with that obnoxious way he sometimes stared at her in calculation.
"Ugh," she groaned. It was pure reaction, zero intention.
What a fitting sequence of a greeting for the two of them, she supposed.
He smirked, eyebrow still attached somewhere near his hairline all the same.
"Don't you need to get your beauty sleep?" She glared at him and settled onto a seated position on the wall, dangling her legs.
He raised the other eyebrow, too. Made a pointed show of looking at his watch. "Don't you need to go back in the pantry with the other buns?"
She threw him the most withering look she could produce, and hoped it was sufficiently acidic. But he only chuckled, his eyes sparkling way too much. She kicked her shin against the wall in irritation.
He broke their staring fest first.
"You're out awfully late," he said, his tone all accusation.
Well, duh.
"What's it to you," she snarked, crossing her arms, and kicked the wall again with the back of her heel.
His eyes pinched together, looking at her in a way that saw a little too much. But his serious expression made way for that shit-eating smirk once more.
"Why the big pout," he purred. "Did Motoki run out of milkshakes? No, wait. Someone beat you in your high score."
She sighed and threw him another of her acid looks. "I do have real problems, you know."
But he just prattled on. "Conbini ran out of your favorite snacks? Someone else wrote you a love letter again?"
She glared. Hard. Flicked her hair back over her shoulder and pouted.
His smirk faltered when she didn't react in the way he wanted her to, and he looked down the barely lit street. "For real though. You shouldn't be out so late at this hour. You live nearby, don't you?"
She chose to ignore him and watched him instead. He just steadily met her gaze, waiting in that irritatingly patient way that tended to make her open her mouth and say stupid things just to end the silence.
"The only love letter I ever got was a fake," she reminded him stupidly. "But. Maybe one day."
He cocked his head at her and frowned, but kept silent.
She hopped off the wall and brushed by his shoulder and started walking off.
"Hey!" he called after her. "You shouldn't be out alone at night."
She ignored him, fully expecting him to walk off in the other direction.
Instead, he fell into step beside her and she groaned.
"Who do you want to get love letters from then, Odango?" He was just keeping the stupid conversation going to rile her up, she knew him. But his voice was warm for once, and she could not deny she liked that tone on him.
But she could. She could deny it vehemently. "Pft," she snorted, and turned her nose up into the air dramatically. "As if I'd tell you."
When she peeked back up at him, the smirk was back. Full on. "Don't tell me it's me," he said with that tone. Ugh.
She bristled. "Oh, you're just so full of yourself."
He chuckled, leaned towards her a little with those obnoxiously, irritatingly upturned lips, and she shrunk back a little, her cheeks heating. "I'm not the worst catch," he twinkled at her in mischief.
She glared. "You wish."
His laugh was deep. It sounded... nice.
"I bet you'd write the worst love letters," she accused, all the petulance in her strong.
He threw her a wink. The light of a street lamp they passed played with the shadows on his face, distractingly. "I'm quite good at haikus actually."
"Oh, suuuure."
That smirk again, and then he stopped, and she stopped too, and he patted his chest dramatically and cleared his throat theatrically and fixed her with a look that made something in her pop.
"You want love letters?
Oi, Odango Atama.
You're no pest today."
His smile was entirely too smug for a haiku so bad.
"Smooth," she deadpanned, unimpressed.
He just laughed that twinkling laugh again and shrugged. "A poem instead?"
He leaned back in, and this time she didn't lean away but tried to meet his petulant eyes full on. Had… Had Mamoru-baka always been this … attractive?
But then he opened his mouth and that came out - obnoxious and over-acting and ridiculous and how does he come up with this so fast? - and she was back to bristling and rolling her eyes.
"Shrieks boom so loud, who can it be but one? She shakes the ground, she makes all sound, no peace is found when she's around. Odango please, now can I bring you home?"
She tried to deck him. Slapped the back of her hand towards his chest, but the jerk caught it. And laughed.
But then she nearly choked, because he didn't free her captured hand. Instead he winked, and brought it to his lips instead, obviously only for the sole reason to spite her.
His lips were warm and they lingered against her knuckles, and his smirk over the kiss was somehow tingling through her spine like little ants spreading from her hand making her dizzy and woah.
His smile was soft, and his thumb brushed over her knuckles when his lips detached from her skin, and he didn't drop her hand - he guided it down, back to her side, and only removed his fingers when he'd safely returned it - and how was it so oddly sweet?
"Let's bring you home, Usagi," he said in a voice that was too soft for Mamoru-baka.
Oh.
She swallowed. Had trouble finding her voice. "O-okay," she breathed eventually, helplessly looking up at him with different eyes.
Obvious Setting Tag: Classic
I like to think they had a few more moments pre-reveal to get a little chemistry going. So there. :)