Getting Credit
Chapter 3
"So am I top or bottom?" Kiba asks, sliding across the carpet. He takes a sit sloppily against the bed. The bowl of snacks flops down beside him and snatches up a joystick, his eyes searching the glowing screen.
I'm on his bed, my feet kicked up, resting on my belly. I snicker. "Oh I don't know, why don't you ask Akamaru? He should know better than I do." He throws a cheese puff at my head. It misses, falling near his pillow and disappearing in the rumpled sheets. It will probably smash. I'm glad it's on his side of the bed.
Kiba grumbles, wriggling the controls and trying to figure out which character he's controlling on the screen. I spot him on a ramp.
"You're bottom," I say. It's a lie, and I cackle wildly as I shoot him down.
The screen goes black. He tilts a head to look up at me. There is a dangerous smirk on his face and an evil gleam in his wide brown eye. I'm already backpedaling when he lunges. We scuffle, I'm scrabbling for escape and he's fighting for revenge. The bed creaks and something is jostled off the nightstand. He finally pins me by sitting on my back and holding my wrists. He caught me during a failed crawl for freedom.
"So," he breathes in my ear, "I'm the bottom, am I?" I twist my head owl-style to squint indignantly at him. He disentangles one of his hands and begins to poke my side, punctuating every word. "You little LIAR!" With a yell, he frees both our hands and tickles me mercilessly.
I yelp and writhe under his sadistic fingers. The angle is bad for fighting back. His thighs keep me from escaping, but I manage to squirm around enough to bite him. Kiba growls and grabs me, mouth closing around my neck to bite me back. I freeze. There's something carnal, almost sensual, about the gesture. His mouth is hot, wet. My heart is crazy and I start to panic. Then he's biting too hard and everything is alright. Teeth mean nothing.
"You bit me," I say, panting. I scowl, scolding. He eases up. We're done wrestling.
"Oh, get over it," he says, breathing also uneven. "It's not like I started it." He grins, a flushed, disheveled quirk of the lips.
I roll my eyes. "What are you, five?"
"Hey, isn't that my line?" He laughs, rising on his knees so I can move.
I pinch his arm in revenge as I finally escape my undignified prison. I don't have the energy for a good comeback. I sit on the edge of the bed, opposite to the where Kiba is. I feel hot, fevered, a little sticky with sweat. Kiba is cooling down on his end of the bed. His face is flushed. Mine probably is, too. I catch his eye and he grins. I stick out my tongue.
The bedroom door bangs open and Hana steps in, long ponytail swinging behind her. She looks about to say something, but she stops, leaving us with an odd look. She backs up out of the room, closing the door behind her. We hear a knock.
"What?" Kiba snaps, trying to straighten his rumples. The door flies open again. Hana has a wicked grin. I recognize it and feel hot and cold. It's the same one Kiba had just before he pounced.
"I was going to say that dinner is ready. Feel free to come down when you're done." She claps her hands, rubbing the palms together suggestively. Her smile spreads when Kiba's flush darkens. My stomach lurches uneasily at the obscene gesture. She winks at me before whisking out of the room. The shoe Kiba throws hits a closed door.