"Kuki." Miyu called his name, her voice soft and breathy. She sounded so far away. Saying his name again, her voice echoes as if heralding him from a distant dream.
A hazy, rose colored light fills the room. He is alone, naked, sitting in the chair where he had fallen asleep after tucking her into bed. This has to be a dream.
"Kuki," she whispers in his ear, materializing behind him in this fantasy world of his making.
Kukie Urie never had dreams. At least not good ones. Usually he endured night terrors filled with violence, blood, and death. His bad dreams were not much different from the waking nightmares he experienced at work.
Miyu walked around to the front of the chair to stand in front of him. She was naked as well. The lengthy spirals of her black hair covered her breasts, hiding them from his view. His imagination had not been given enough input to supply him with a mere guess as to how her breasts looked.
His eyes traveled along her sides. There were scars, big scars, like something had punctured her on each side of her body. The shiny pink flesh looked like massive wads of chewed bubble gum stuck to her ribs with thick pink ribbons of overgrown repaired flesh extending in several directions across her flawless snowy white skin. What the hell? His brain could conjure ugly scars but not a picture of her breasts?
Urie already knew she was not perfect. Perhaps it was a visual metaphor that she was just as messed up and broken, perfectly imperfect, as anyone else. He had caught a glimpse of her dark side. Having seen that part of her made him realize that there was someone for everyone. Maybe she was meant to be with him.
His eyes continued their downward slide, taking in her rounded hips. Her flat, almost concave belly gave her a lean, hungry appearance as if she did not eat enough. He had seen her eat. She ate a lot. Possibly another allegory indicating she suffered from a different kind of hunger, having not fed on a fat, juicy soul recently.
Urie's eyes skirted over the curly black patch of hair hiding a secret he would like to explore. Studying her creamy white thighs, his mouth watered. They were thick with muscle, round and firm, toned from her frequent walks - and possibly from kicking lots of ghoul ass in another time in her life. He wanted to bite her, sink his teeth into that milky flesh and feel the taut muscle giving way under his teeth.
His attention went to her face when she lowered her body, straddling his lap. Her skin was warm and soft against his. Her silky inner thighs pressed to the outside of his thighs and hips. Her muscles rippled under her skin when she clenched them tightly to him.
An uncomfortable hardness rose between his thighs. Her coarse pubic hairs tickled his erection, making it pulsate. A searing heat and annoying ache spread throughout the lower part of his belly.
"Kuki, do you want me?" Miyu asked, her liquid gold eyes capturing his. Her fingers combed through his hair. She continued stroking his head, petting him. But he liked it.
"Yes, I want you," he answered, his hands sliding up her back. Her shoulder blades were sharp under her satiny skin. "Do you want me?"
"Oh, yes," she breathed, leaning forward to press her chest to his.
Through her soft hair, Urie could feel her rigid nipples against his chest. The enticing mixture of hard and soft textures of her body, physical reflections of her personality, made him want her desperately.
"You're perfect for me," she whispered, her lips grazing his outer ear.
Urie knew he was not perfect in any way, shape, or form. Sadness crept in around the edges of the beautiful, wondrous dream, reminding him that this was not reality.
"I want you," she said, kissing him briefly, gently on the lips. As he recalled, her lips were inviting and supple out of his dreams. "I need you."
Urie gazed at her lovely face. Her eyes exuded an enticing hot, liquid glow. A pretty pink blush tinted her pale cheeks. Her lips, slightly parted and moist, were red as blood.
Blood. His eyes lowered to the thick, pulsing artery running down the side of her neck. A low, deep thump like a slow rhythmic drum solo filled his ears. At first he thought he was listening to his own heartbeat. Watching the movement of the artery, the little jump under her skin with each heart beat, he realized he was hearing hers.
Urie's teeth itched which was by far the strangest sensation he had ever felt. His mouth filled with saliva forcing him to swallow which made an audible sound.
"I know how it feels," Miyu said sympathetically, stroking his head again. Her hand pressed against the back of his neck, pulling him forward. "You're starving."
His lips tingled as they neared the thrumming artery, the sound of heart beat deafening him. He licked his lips, inadvertently licking her in the process. She tasted salty but sweet; a savory dessert, a delectable treat.
"Oh, god," he murmured. "I can't stop."
"Don't stop. Just do it," she encouraged him, pushing her neck against his lips. "Eat me."
Urie opened his mouth, sinking his teeth into her flesh. Slicing through the skin, blood leaked into his mouth thick and sweet like a syrup. Holding her hips, he thrust his hips upward, sliding his throbbing manhood inside of her wet, waiting body.
Miyu wailed, the mournful howl a provocative mixture of pain and pleasure. Her cry enticed him to bite harder, sinking his teeth into the firm muscle, relishing the meatiness. Chewing off a hunk of her flesh released a tidal wave of blood that choked him. The vermilion liquid overflowed his lips, gushing down his neck to spill over his chest in a bloody wave.
"Holy shit!" Urie exclaimed, shaking himself awake.
"Are you all right?" Miyu asked. She stood in front of him in the powder blue t-shirt gown. Her big hazel eyes blinked at him as if he had grown a second head.
"I'm fine," he panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead using his forearm covered by his dark gray-green dress shirt. "Just a..."
He was shaken by the erotic horror movie that had been playing in his head. It had not been a nightmare exactly but not a sweet dream either.
"Just a dream," he muttered, his head dropping back on the chair.
"Here. Drink this," she said, handing him a glass of cold water. "It sounded like a terrible nightmare from all of the twitching and thrashing around you were doing. But the moaning and groaning made me assume you were dreaming about sex."
"Oh, shit," he grumbled, drinking the water.
He was too embarrassed to be offended by her brazen bluntness. Humiliated, feeling dirty from the inside out, he wanted to make a hasty exit, but his legs were too shaky to support him at the moment.
"Do you want to take a shower? I can wash your clothes for you," she offered.
"Sure. That would be great," he answered, ready to wash off the crust of sweat coating his body. If only he could wash away the mental dregs of the bloody, sexy nightmare.
"Leave your clothes by the bathroom door. My robe is hanging on the hook behind the door. You can wear that after your shower," she instructed him.
She sounded extremely motherly at the moment which made him feel more like a degenerate. Once he finished drinking the water and believed his legs would carry him, he got up to go to the bathroom. His knees buckled, letting him down quite literally.
But she was immediately there: her head tucked under his arm, her body bracing his to keep him from falling. Without a word, she assisted him with walking the short distance to his destination.
Urie wanted to die of embarrassment. Such shameful behavior. He wasn't weak dammit! He wanted to be strong for her so she could rely on him, lean on him, not the other way around.
"Kuki, thank you for staying with me last night," she said, lifting his arm from her shoulders when they entered the bathroom.
"You were too pathetic for me to leave you. A man of any worth would not leave a woman in such a weak, vulnerable state," he returned, frantically piecing together the shards of his shattered pride.
"Hmmm," she hummed, a knowing smile stretching her lips. "You're a good man, Kuki Urie. I like you."
"Dammit," he muttered. His contrived conceit could not fool her. She saw through his pitiful display of false egotism and complimented him.
Urie felt her fingers at his collar, working to unbutton his shirt. His hands went to hers, but he stopped before pushing her away.
"I can do it," he stated flatly, tamping down his humiliation induced anger.
"I know," she rejoined, her eyes meeting his.
He sighed in relief to see her irises were their normal hazel color, not the mesmerizing gold that made him lose all of his sensibilities and self-control.
"But I want to help you. Let me help you," she begged, loosing the button she held between her fingers.
Urie dropped his hands from hers, lowering his eyes as well. If he stared into those captivating eyes of hers too long, he would be tempted to kiss her, to touch her.
Her hands were cool as they skimmed across his bare chest, pushing his shirt over his shoulders. Her smooth fingertips blazed a trail down both of his arms until she dragged the shirt free of his hands. Draping the shirt over her forearm, she grabbed the button of his black pants but paused to look at his face.
"Are you really going to let me do this?" she asked when his eyes reconnected with hers.
"You said you wanted to help me," he reminded her, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Did you change your mind?"
"Of course not," she replied, giving him a forced smile rife with pride and determination.
Urie held his breath when she slid down the zipper, her fingers brushing ever so lightly along the front of his underwear. The discomforting sexual ache returned as strongly as he had felt it in his dream. He regretted baiting her when she stepped closer to him, her fingers edging along the waist band of his pants.
His knees threatened to betray him again when her fingers slipped under the waistband at his back. Her hands skimmed along his behind as she pushed down his trousers. He pressed his hands to her shoulders, leaning into her to lift one foot, then the other, so she could remove the pants completely.
Kuki Urie gnawed the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the sexual urgency making him pulsate and ache so profoundly he actually felt nauseated. He refused to let the desire for sex to incapacitate him, debilitating his body and diminishing his rational thinking. He would not allow her to have that kind of power over him.
"That's not everything," he informed her.
Her mouth came dangerously close to his when she stood back up to face him. She smiled, a sultry lopsided grin.
"I'm sure you can handle that yourself," she said. "I'll wait outside for your underwear."
Fucking tease, he thought to himself, watching her exit the small room and close the door. Seductive smirking bitch. She could give it as good as she could take it. He liked her too. A lot.
~\..'../~
"Here."
Miyu held out the pile of clothing hanging on her arm so he could drop the pair of silky black underwear on top. She had expected him to be tightie whitie kind of man because he acted so stiff and formal. The sexy underwear had been a nice surprise.
Taking the clothes to the kitchen where the washer and dryer was located in the makeshift broom closet, she set about getting them started to wash. The timer for her brownies dinged at the same time she closed the door of the washer.
"Good timing," she told herself.
Miyu took the pan of brownies out of the oven, setting them on a trivet beside one of the chocolate cake layers already cooling on the counter. Although she had awakened hours ago, she could not bear to wake the sleeping man who had stayed to be her guardian.
Seeing him there had been a shock. Nervous from Kuki Urie's unexpected presence and still reeling from the encounter with Haise Sasaki, Miyu had carefully got out of bed to keep from waking him to go to the kitchen. When upset, she liked to bake. Her cravings steered her toward chocolate.
She had once heard that a chemical in chocolate acted as a replacement for the same hormone released upon orgasm during sex. Chocolate chocolate chip muffins, three layers of chocolate cake, baked chocolate pudding, and a pan of chocolate brownies hinted that she was seriously overcompensating for something else she wanted but could not have.
She chewed her lower lip recalling the sensual excitement that had burned so hotly inside of her when she was undressing him. It had taken every ounce of her self-control not to kiss him. Everything within her wanted to ravage his lips then rip off his underwear to plunder his body.
"Oh, god," she moaned, covering her eyes as if to hide from her self-induced embarrassment.
Her face burned at the thought of taking advantage of him. Sometimes her own thoughts bothered her. The primal, animalistic side of her occasionally reared its awful head in the most disturbing ways.
"Are you okay?" Urie inquired, entering the kitchen.
"Uhm, yeah," she murmured, sliding the second pan of brownies into the oven for cooking. These contained walnuts where the first ones did not.
"Something smells great."
"Do you want one?" She picked up one of the double chocolate muffins to offer it to him.
Turning she saw he was standing there, dripping wet from the shower with a towel around his waist. The water from his hair created minuscule rivers down his face and neck. His damp chest glistened in the bright yellow sunlight filling the room from the windows currently free of the blinds and curtains.
His deceptively thin body was covered in smooth yet firm, defined muscles. She had felt them under her hands earlier but had not really paid much attention to them visually as she was fighting off the sexual yearning tempting her to do bad things in the best way to him. The ropy muscles of his forearm swelled into squirming elongated bumps under his warmly tanned skin as he dried his soaked hair with the towel in his hand.
"I said there was a robe behind the door," she stated, sounding rather agitated.
She was extremely perturbed. Her metaphorical feathers were still ruffled from the provocative act of his assisted striptease.
Urie raised his nose into the air and sniffed.
"But it smells so good. I wanted to come see what you were doing," he said, moving to stand beside her.
The way he casually leaned against the counter, holding a conversation with her as if he weren't mostly naked, unnerved her. She was sure he was torturing himself as much as he was torturing her. The game they were playing had changed, and she no longer knew the rules.
"What are we doing, Urie?" she inquired, tearing the muffin in half.
She held out a half of the warm baked treat to him. He took it, allowing his fingers to enclose hers momentarily before pulling away with the food in his hand.
"I don't know what you mean," he lied, playing at innocence and failing. He bit the muffin, making a humming sound of approval and satisfaction.
"Does it really taste good?" she asked, squinting her eyes as she studied him.
"It's great. I love chocolate," he stated in a droning, lifeless voice.
Miyu was less than convinced.
"Finish it then," she requested, shoving the entire half of her muffin in her mouth to make herself be quiet.
She observed him carefully as he stared at the muffin. He took a small bite, then shoved the rest into his mouth nearly swallowing it without chewing at all. He went as far as licking the melted chocolate chips from his fingers to make her think he enjoyed it. The light brown sugar color of his complexion faded. He looked like he wanted to vomit.
His odd reaction to the food from Oshiba's had raised her suspicions. Her heart sank into her belly as her worst fears were confirmed. Although the idea of him becoming more of a ghoul worried her, she had actually planned not to mention it. Not that she could not handle him, one monster to another, what remained of his humanity would devolve as his inclination to ingest people increased. The hunger would drive him insane.
Miyu knew the obsessive cravings all too well because she had them herself, although in a different way. She devoured the soul, the mind and emotions, in contrast to a ghoul's preference to consume the body. Once his need for flesh fully manifested, he would never return to who he is presently. But maybe she could help him. Or maybe he would bring out the beast in her. Between the both of them, they would make the ultimate killing team, a demolition duo equipped to destroy so completely there would be nothing left of a person.
Despite already knowing on a conscious level what was happening to him, her emotions refused to process the possibility of him developing more ghoul qualities. However, she needed to hear it from Urie's lips.
"Don't lie to me. I know your Rc levels have gone up tremendously since your second surgery. Your DNA is changing. You're becoming less human and more ghoul. Have you started craving flesh?"
"Yes," he confessed.
"Have you - " Her voice faltered, her words getting caught behind the lump of emotion clogging her throat. "Have you fed yet?"
"No. And I don't want to. I can still taste food some times. The first bite of that muffin was great. I really do like chocolate. But the second bite..." He pressed his hand to his belly as if to hold down the food. "I didn't want this to happen. I just wanted to be better. Stronger. To avenge my father by killing the One Eyed Owl."
Miyu's chest constricted as she looked at him. His face twisted in anguish, putting on display every ounce of his pain, his sorrow, and his anger.
"I wanted to be better than Haise Sasaki. Better than Ken Kaneki," he added, bitterness and hatred lacing his voice.
Miyu physically winced, recoiling from him at the mention of Kaneki. Without thinking, her arms folded across her chest as if to provide a physical barrier from the memory of him. Her fingers rubbed her scars in an unconscious act of self-soothing. Distracted by her thoughts, she did not notice Urie's proximity until his arms were around her, gathering her to his chest in a bear hug with her arms trapped between them.
"Help me," he whispered in her ear.
"I will," she agreed. "But only on one condition."
His body stiffened against hers in apprehension. Apparently he was accustomed to strings being attached, of people having ulterior motives.
"You have to help me too." She lay her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes to revel in his embrace. "We have to save each other."
"I can do that," he assured her, cradling her head in his hand and pressing her cheek to his bare chest. "I swear, I will hold onto you as long as you hold onto me."
"I promise, I will not let you go."