Title: Lesson 7: Heartfelt (Closer To All Apologies)

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.

He sat in the dark with his feet propped up on the table. The player's pieces were all arranged, and he ran about 100 different scenarios. Actually it was 116, but he wasn't counting, because the outcome was always the same. Regardless of what he tried, there was no way he could avoid it. Everything depended on Kurita's strength, and that was a variable he had no control over. All he could do was believe that the training with Banba would work, and awaken something in Kurita that lay dormant. Believing in others and having faith was something foreign to Hiruma. He had been let down too many times to fall for that trap. He looked at the raw data, and analyzed the plays. Facts were the only thing that mattered to him, and the fact was that the Dinosaurs were going to send their perfect beast to break him.

Suddenly the door flew open and there she was; standing there in silhouette against the light of day from outside. She stood there for a moment, and he mentally traced her curvy outline. She had a power over him that she wasn't even aware of, because he had kept it closely hidden to himself. Her power made him weak. It made him want to curl up into a ball next to her, and just live there feeling her soft warmth surrounding him. He remembered her holding him like that one night, and how he felt like he could stay like that forever. Her delicate arms wrapped around him, her chin resting on the top of his head, while his face was nestled against her bare breasts. He made sure that she never held him like that again. She was a dangerous vice, and he couldn't get rid of her. All he could do was control her and him to the best of his ability.

"What are you doing in here with the light off?" She asked as she came into the room, and reached for the switch.

"Shut the fucking door and don't turn on the light!" He growled in response, and she quietly obeyed. He heard the click of the lock once the door was shut. She knew his mood without him even telling her.

There was a faint whisper of light coming through the closed blinds. She was still silhouetted in the dark, and yet he could now see the features on her face. His eyes had adjusted to the dark from the length of time he had been sitting there, and her face came in clear detail to him. She was surprised and concerned. Probably not surprised he was sitting solitude like this. He had frequently sat alone, usually with a laptop or a gun, but he always liked to be alone with his thoughts. It also probably wasn't because he had raised his voice. Yelling at her had always been a special past time for him. Something that got his blood flowing, his energy up, and his senses flared. It was a pleasure he rarely allowed himself anymore, because he felt inside that his feelings where changing for her. This was no longer casual and fun. She had got in too deep, and so had he. Now they were both in danger of drowning.

"You know you don't…"

"Turn on the radio," he cut her off quickly as he easily took his legs off the table, and sat properly in the chair. He watched her throat move as she swallowed the rest of her words. How tender and elegant her features were. It was a characteristic that made him want to destroy and revere her.

She crossed over to the counter where the small radio sat, and flipped the switch. A cackle of noise filled the air, and she pressed the button to tune it to something else. The radio dial bounced from talking to bubble gum pop a couple of times. She knew what he wanted to hear, but when she landed on the Nirvana song, something clicked inside him. He owed her an apology. A proper one; one that would make certain that all of this tension and concern would be put to rest between him, and he could do what he needed to do with her by his side.

"Leave it there," he said and she backed away from the radio into the spot where she originally stood.

"Come here."

"Alright," she slowly began to come towards him. He held up is hand to stop her from coming any closer than several feet in front of him.

"Stop right there."

"Okay," she stood there with her hands to her sides, looking at him curiously. He could see her mind working, wondering what he had planned, what he wanted with her, what he wanted to do to her.

"Strip."

"Strip?"

"You heard me. Now strip."

She slowly began unbuttoning the cardigan she was wearing as she stood there like stone complying with his unusual request.

"No, I don't mean like that," he said irritatedly as he leaned forward in his chair disappointed in her performance.

"Like what then?" He could see her wide eyed questioning face clearly. It was an act on her part. She wanted him to ask for it, and that was one of the things he loved about her. How she could feign innocence and humility, all the while driving him to do the certain things she wanted.

"Move, with the music," he said while cracking the first faintest smile he had given her since she walked in.

"Alright," she began to move slowly as she listened to the song.

He watched her close her eyes, and move her hands with a slow deftness. She removed the cardigan and it fell to the floor. Her hips swayed as she turned around and began unbuttoning her thin blouse. She let the open blouse slip below her shoulders as her hands caressed the top part of her breasts, and then moved down to her smooth abdomen. The blouse fell to the floor beside the cardigan. She stepped out of her flats, and kicked everything collectively out of the way. The music swelled; she ran her fingers messily through her cropped hair, shaking her head, and twirling her hips along with the beat. He sat there and watched in a nonchalant pose sitting in his chair with his legs crossed, and his chin resting on his propped up fist.

She backed up against the lockers and slowly slid down to the floor. Rolling around and writhing to the drumming rhythm, and then sitting up on her knees. She lifted up her skirt, flashed him a peek of her lacy panties, and then smiled seductively as she began to stand up again from the floor. Her smile made him sit up a bit. She believed she was in control of this, and that this was all her doing. He couldn't let her have that. Not one inch of power or control, because she had already taken too much from him. He needed his edge, and she was slowly dulling it to the point that he felt he would become irrelevant. To the point where he would need her to just simply exist. To the point where his identity would rely on how she felt about him.

"I want it all off," he grumbled. Her back was towards him now as she continued to move with the music.

"Okay," she tossed slyly over her shoulder with the same seductive smirk she had given him before. He wanted to forcibly wipe that smirk off her pretty little face.

"Everything. Every last piece of clothing." His words were deliberate and biting. She turned around to face him. The smile replaced by a confused slight scowl.

"Alright," she said with a little insecurity. He arched his eyebrow in a way that dared her to question him as he saw her open her mouth to say something more. Her mouth quickly closed shut, and she continued to move with the music, removing clothes, beginning with her skirt.

Her bra and panties followed, and along with her skirt, she kicked them out of the way as she had done with her clothes before. As she stood there naked before him, her moves to the music were just as strong as before, but tempered with a bit more cautious humility. This wasn't a feigned emotion from her, and he reveled in it. His smile grew broader as he leaned forward to watch the show. This was the Mamori he loved to see. Stripped down and bare, back to the person she was before he had tainted her, and slightly embarrassed by the fact that she was enjoying the way he was tainting her now. Her hands moved along her body slowly and unsure. It was as if she didn't know herself, and was afraid to discover what the consequences would be in taking that leap.

He watched slowly as it began to happen. Very subtly at first as she began to touch her breasts. He watched as her nipples hardened, and she became acutely aroused. She closed her eyes again, and began to feel herself more. She was forgetting where she was, who she was with, and showing him a part of her that he had never seen. She was becoming comfortable with her body in front of him. Not at all like the tease who liked to walk around his apartment in his shirts. She was standing there bare naked, and perfect with the faint slivers of sunlight coming from the closed blinds glistening on her skin. Her hands moved tenderly, and lovingly along her own soft skin. Was she touching herself, and imagining the way she wanted to feel his hands on her? It wasn't much of a guess to make as she slowly moved her hand to the spot where he knew she wanted to feel him most.

"Come," he said as the music changed. It couldn't have been better if he was deejaying the radio station himself. Nine Inch Nails began playing.

"What?" She asked doe-eyed and a little breathy as if she had come out of a trance.

He didn't even need to speak the words this time. He simply extended his hand towards her and she came to him as if pulled by an invisible string. He stood there before her; towering over her naked body for a moment, and taking in her beauty. With a sudden swipe, he knocked all the player pieces off the table, and onto the floor. Never taking his eyes off her, he watched her flinch at the sudden action, and it made him sneer with delight. Then, with the gentle care of an admiring hand, he laid her across the table. Positioning himself between her legs that hung over the edge, he let his hand slowly graze her inner thighs. His lips soon followed, teasing as they moved along, and while one hand smoothed along the flat plain of her abdomen, the other cradled her hip.

He reached his target with the precision and accuracy of an expert quarterback. Her body arched and moved before him, but he restrained her deliberately by clamping both of his large hands around her thighs. As his tongue plunged further into her tangy sweetness, he could hear her moan, and feel her pant. She tried to sit up, tried to reach for him, but he had pulled her hips just partly off the table into a precarious position. All she could do was lie there, and grip the edges of the table on either side of her, because he had her in such a way that if she moved too much, the whole table would come crashing down. He was in complete control of everything, and all her pleasure was exclusively for his benefit.

Just when he felt that she was to the point where she could no longer contain herself, he stood up and unzipped his pants just enough to be able to maneuver. He held himself against her and slowly rubbed, tapped, and teased some more as she wiggled and moaned. It was sweet and torturous for her. He could hear her softly beg him with faint pleases, and breathe out his given name. She was at his mercy, and it was more than empowering for him to know that he held her release in his hands.

As he entered her he heard her sharp gasp, followed by her pleasured groans as he moved ever so slowly inside her. He grabbed the luscious mounds that softly bounced before him, feeling her quake and quiver beneath him. He caressed her as her arms seemed to lay limp at her sides. He felt her eyes on him watching as he examined every inch of her while moving at a slow and steady pace. She wrapped her legs around his waist urging him to go faster and harder. He groaned and grunted as he gave into her wishes just a bit, but stopped abruptly because he didn't want it to end just yet.

"Turn over," he commanded gruffly as he slipped out of her. Her quick obedience excited him more than seeing her ass bared before him as she bent over the table, and just as swiftly as he had slipped out, he slipped back in, causing her to cry out.

This time he gave her exactly what she wanted. What he felt she deserved as he moved harder and faster against her. His hands firmly gripped her and pulled her along as she moved with him. His harsh grunts mixed with her soft high pitched groans, and it nearly drove him insane with pleasure. He roughly pulled her down on top of him as he sat back down in the chair. Her legs were spread apart across his lap, and his hand reached instinctively for that spot. Her groans became louder, and more urgent as he touched her there while moving her up and down. His other hand held her head and exposed her supple neck to him. He sucked and grazed his sharp teeth against the soft flesh as he felt her body vibrate all over him. He couldn't hold himself any longer at the pace he was going, and so he let himself go into her, allowing his guttural cry to mix with hers.

They sat there for a moment, breathing heavily, his body draped in hers. Nothing but quiet and stillness surrounded them as their bodies seemed loosely melted in place. He closed his eyes, and moved his faintly grizzled cheek against her sweet soft one. She was to be rewarded for a job well done. She was his good little woman; obedient to a fault. He turned her head towards him, and planted a protective territorial kiss on her lips. His tongue invaded the space of her mouth, claiming her as his once again self assuredly, and with pride.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he rested his head against hers, letting go of all he had held onto before.

"I know," she whispered back, and he could have sworn he heard a smile in the faintness, but he was too tired to care.