A/N: Hello. Warning: the character of Igarashi may start, from this chapter and thence forth, to come across a bit OOC. However, it is supposed to be that way, though I'm trying to keep him as in-character as possible, the whole point to my story is for him the find love, and he's going to start changing because love changes people. Okay? Okay, so I've warned you, please don't hate me, he's still the same Igarashi Tora we all know and love, (or hate, if you hate him- though I don't think you'd be reading or enjoying this story if you hated one of it's main characters) Like I said, I'm doing my best to keep him just as arrogant and perverted as usual and stuff, but he's going to change his ways a little bit because he's basically 'growing up' as he starts to realize his feelings. It's not just weird for you guys, it's weird for him, SEE even HE know's he's acting out of character! Anywho, warning over. Proceed.

*Disclaimer: I don't own Maid Sama/Kaichou wa Maid Sama or any of it's characters of the anime or manga. But if I did, that'd be so grand! But I don't.

Chapter Five. Stinging, Dancing, Kissing, Throbbing

Akari sat at the kitchen counter past the dining hall and into the massive gourmet kitchen in the Igarashi's home, eating a wonderfully cooked plate of baked Yatsuhashi (a Japanese dessert that has the texture of mochi *mochi: pounded Japanese sticky rice* and contains cinnamon, or sometimes has a red bean paste filling) -an after dinner sweet treat- while a few cooks and other staff members drifted here and there around her, ignoring her presence completely after she had asked to have the Yatsuhashi made. She didn't like eating all alone at the large, empty dining table in the next room- plus, there was less of a chance Tora would look for her here.

A bag full of homework lay at her side- she would get to that once she was done eating, maybe take it to the study because her room was apparently being cleaned by the maids at the moment (though she didn't see what there was to clean- she really wasn't a very messy person) but she was eating her food slowly and stalling- not because she didn't want to do her homework, but because she didn't want to leave her hiding place in the possibility that Tora might find her in the study.

She suddenly sighed at the blank, clean plate before her. It had just been too tasty a meal to not scarf down.

Standing up, she left her plate at the table and grabbed her school bag. She knew that if she tried to put the plate away herself the staff would look appalled, she had had that experience enough times in her own home, so she walked from the room and through the empty dining hall, out the door and into one of the grand hallways.

She was just passing around the next corner at the end of that hallway when she heard a certain loud crash coming from a ways back behind her. Spinning around after hearing a shout that followed the crashing noise, she ran down the hallway, listening carefully for more. She had to turn back several times- jeez, this house was just a maze and it didn't help that the walls made everything echo, and she was running around breathlessly for a few minutes until she stopped outside a door where she could hear continuous swearing coming from the other side.

She opened the door and rushed in, dropping her bag and looking around the room.

Tora had been in the dance studio room, about to indulge in one of his favored interests, the art of dancing, when he had been so lost in thought as he practiced his ballroom choreography that he had bumped into the table in the corner, causing an expensive (of course) vase to tumble to the floor and break into sharp-edged shards. Cursing at his flawed steps, his stupid, over-active brain, he bent to pick up the largest shards and place them on the table.

He couldn't believe himself, he was acting nothing like himself! Tonight he still couldn't come up with a reason for his loss of infatuation for Ayuzawa, he was being uncoordinated in dancing, something he was extremely talented at, and his thoughts, normally collected neatly and arranged accordingly, were jumbled into an absolute mess! It was so bad, he had now broken a fucking vase- well fan FUCKING tastic.

"...god DAMN IT." He shouted at himself as he was again so busy with his thoughts that he did something stupid, like cut his hand on the largest shard he placed on the table.

"Igarashi, what did you do?"

He stood and spun around, the unexpected visitor causing him to forget about his bleeding hand.

It was Akari. Her hair was coming out of a messy bun and she was slightly out of breath. She was still in her school uniform, but she had taken off the bow tie and unbuttoned the top of button of her shirt near her collar. Because she was probably running, the second and third buttons of her shirt had somehow also popped oven, leaving an open space for her slight and small bit of cleavage to show past the white folds of her shirt.

"Shit..." He said quietly, cussing for an entirely different reason now.

She stepped forward, her bare legs catching his attention. "Tora, you're dripping blood onto the floor."

He wanted to brush it off, tell her it was just fine and he would handle it, have the maids clean up the mess he'd made, but her silver-and-ice-blue gaze was instead keeping him silent as she approached him, grabbing his bleeding hand lightly in hers and shaking her head at his unresponsiveness.

He just stared as she mumbled in-cohesively to herself and examined his hand in hers, letting her fingers hover a trail from the end of his wrist where the blood dripped and back to where the cut was in the palm of his hand. Her eyes flew to the table behind him with the few broken shards on it, then to the rest of the cracked and broken vase on the floor, and then she caught him staring at her, their gaze leveling once more, his blank but surprised and hers concerned but suspicious.

"Are you trying something on me again?" She asked, not letting go of his dripping hand and not stopping her stare on him.

Suddenly, he snapped out of his silently shocked state and decided on a scowl.

"I cut my hand on the vase after I broke it. How is that 'trying something on you'?"

She stared at him longer, and when she seemed to decide he was being truthful, she sighed and looked rather perplexed.

"I don't know- you tend to try anything to get your way..."

"As charmed as I am that you'd think I would harm myself for your sake, I like my body far too much to assault myself with pain just to grab your attention." (A/N: The total and complete irony in Tora's statement here will be understood by the time you finish the chapter)

"Okay I understand that, but it just seems suspicious that you could break something without meaning to- you're unusually steady and languid, I wouldn't think you could ever be such a klutz."

He sighed and reached up with his free hand to brush the bangs hanging on the right side of his face out of his eye.

"Well, maybe I'm not feeling well." He said in an agitated tone that couldn't be missed.

She peered back down at his hand, which was still dripping his crimson blood onto the dance floor, and she then let go of him and walked back towards the door.

Oh so, she only came out of curiosity and was now going to leave him to bleed on his own and fix his problem alone.

But then he watched in mild wonderment as she crouched down next to her bag by the door, and rummaged through its contents. She came back to him shortly afterwards with a tiny kit in her hands.

"Don't smirk at me for this, but I keep a first-aid kit in my bag just in case." She eyes him warily. "I should warn you that I also have pepper spray, in case this really is a trick."

He looked down at her hands holding the kit- and just the kit. She wasn't holding any pepper spray, so he assumed she probably really does believe his story. Though she may just have it waiting in her bag, like she claims.

"Whatever." Was all he mumbled as she knelt down in front of him, beside the miniature red puddle of his blood, and opened the kit to reveal all of her first-aid supplies.

"Kneel down." She commanded as she took out some alcoholic liquid in a bottle and a few small, white things that looked like miniature napkins.

He obediently got down on his knees, avoiding the puddle of his blood, and then maneuvered to sit cross-legged in front of her. Though he didn't normally listen or obey people, he felt like there was no use arguing over such a small matter. Besides, she was actually helping him.

He watched her every movement carefully as she reached out and grabbed his hand, and he allowed her to take it. Her vision was focused on wiping away his dripping blood with the little white cloths and then discarding them at her side when one was soaked all the way through with the crimson coloring. When he looked down at his hand and the blood that had been trailing down to his wrist was gone, he could clearly see the long, sweeping cut all the way from below his pinky to the center of his palm. It was irritated and new blood was forming because it was such a fresh wound, but besides that it was really something not to worry about.

"I don't think I have to warn you about this stinging..."

He glanced up at her with quiet golden eyes, and then looked back down at her nimble fingers holding the bottle of alcohol in her right hand while she pulled her left hand from his own and grabbed another small napkin, dumping the liquid onto the cloth and barely soaking it through. Then, she reached out for his hand again, and he lifted it up from his lap and again let her have it. With an edge of the napkin that wasn't soaked with alcohol she wiped the reforming surface of blood from the cut, and then she quickly turned the thing over to it's wet side and started to gently press it into the cut, wiping it up and down, making sure it was clean.

Her eyes looked up and found his, which had been focusing so directly on her carefully-working hands.

"Does it sting?"

"Can't really feel it." He lied, glancing up at her face, too. Yes, it stung, but not enough for him to care.

"Mm-hmm." She mumbled, returning his glance for a moment before looking back down at her hands holding his, and rubbing the cut with one last, gentle swipe.

Then, she lifted his hand slightly, discarding the used dry wipe (which was now wet with blood and alcohol) and putting both her thumbs at the edges of his palm, holding his hand with care and inspecting it in the room's lighting.

"Do you want a band-aid, or I could wrap it with some medical cloth." She said, giving him back his hand and replacing the alcohol bottle after re-screwing the lid on it in her kit, along with the rest of the clean, unused dry wipes.

"Doesn't matter." He said, his gaze looking up as she stood up, following her as she walked around the room, found the trash can in the corner, and dumped the used wipes in it before turning around to see him staring at her.

"Why do you keep looking like that?" She asked, not walking back over to him.

He looked away then and blinked as he glanced off to the side. He wasn't sure, himself...

"Look, I know it's not normal for me to assist you like this, but I had a medical kit and you had a cut." He glanced at her slightly and saw her shrugging. He looked away again, and then glared down at his hand, which was starting to bubble up with red, resurfacing blood again. "Seemed like I should have done something." She finished.

When she walked back towards him, he was already standing.

"Thanks," He paused, and then; "Thank you for your assistance, I'll go get the maids to clean this up now."

He tried to walk past her, but she held out her hand and pressed it hard against his chest. They were closer together now, his body beside hers as he had been trying to get past her, and he turned his head to the side to cast a golden-eyed glance down at her.

"Wait, at least let me cover it up so it doesn't bleed and drip everywhere anymore."

He stood still and waited as she leaned down and picked up another dry wipe, and a band-aid. When she stood up, he allowed for her to grab his hand again and looked away instead of staring at her this time when she cleaned up the resurfaced blood, and then tore open the band-aid, trying to stick it onto his flat palm.

"Eurgh, it's not working..." She mumbled, pressing her fingers over the edges of the band-aid, but it wouldn't stick to the surface of his palm- every time she asked him to move his hand to see if it would stay in place, it just peeled off on one side.

"Just use the other thing you were talking about." He said after a short while, gritting his teeth in irritation. He just wanted to leave now, get a maid to clean up his clumsy mess, and then take a short shower and go to bed. Sleep would help him escape from the frustrating, disorienting day he'd had.

"Alright, if you'll be patient." She looked up and glared at him, he sneered back in response.

What a defiant, troublesome, back-talking, tempting, strong-willed, irrita-

"-IGARASHI, unclench your fist so I can wrap your hand already!"

He blinked at her, and then, looking down, he realized his fist really was tightened shut and he slowly opened it. She took it in her hand, her fingers gingersnap-cookie soft as they brushed across his skin, and then across his cut, before unrolling the small beige cloth in her hand and placing it over the cut instead, then carefully, slowly, and effortlessly wrapping it across his palm, underneath his hand, and then back over across his palm.

He watched her fluid movements with those burning-gold eyes of his, and listened to her soft breaths, in and out, as she continued to wrap the paper-thin layers of the cloth thicker over the cut. His vision filled with the sight of her, and the smell- that leftover hint of alcohol drifting in the air, along with how she smelled, like sugar, bean paste, and cinnamon. They were interesting scents to mix together, and both smells collaborated to make him feel a tad too heavy on his feet, his head too airy and light on his shoulders...

"T-Tora...?"

He opened his eyes again. He had not even realized his movements but he was leaning all of his weight on her, his one hand at her shoulder and the other one that she had been wrapping in the cloth dropped at his side. He could feel her entire body trembling beneath him, struggling to hold him up- he must be heavy for her- and he nearly shivered as he felt her hot, sweet, cinnamon-scented breath on his neck as he leaned over her, still a bit disoriented.

"Oh," He said, carefully pushing himself up. He stepped back, shaking his bangs around, covering up his right eye.

She simply stared at him, perplexed that he hadn't seemed to do anything except just lean on her.

"Tora, are you getting sick?" She asked him, walking forward as he looked up at her, brushing the hair from his eye.

"No. I don't get sick, even if it's winter season." He said plainly, trying to recuperate. Seeing her approach with a curious look of disbelief, he scowled and stared hard at her. "Michiyo, I said I'm just fine."

"I know. But I haven't finished wrapping your cut."

He looked down at his hand, and realized the cloth was gone from it, it had unraveled from around his palm and fallen to the floor and she had just now picked it up again.

"Give me your hand," She breathed, stepping up close to him again, reaching forward for his right hand.

He didn't respond but was once again staring. She snuck a glance upward at him, and then huffed and grabbed his hand anyway, carefully re-wrapping it in the thin cloth, layer after layer until it was thick enough to her liking. She knelt down, keeping the cloth pressed to his cut with one hand while reaching into the kit for a pair of small scissors. She cut the cloth, secured it around his wrist and between his thumb and forefinger with a tight knot, and then stopped herself, her hands falling to her sides, one of them absent-mindedly folding over her skirt. Her gaze looked up to lock with his again.

"I'm done now, and you should go call on the maids. Things are still a mess."

He just stared. His Aztec-gold eyes watching, demanding her attention even though they held no emotion, no nothing. They were simply an unreadable stare.

He didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't feel properly at the moment. His mind was, for the first time today, finally blank- and yet that was not better than it being filled with a billion thoughts.

"...Fuck." He finally spoke up, leaning backwards, away from her, looking away.

"You really... don't seem to be okay."

"Why would you even care?" He suddenly looked at her, his gaze darkening, mistrusting.

She glowered. "Should I not? Is that how it works for you- if someone doesn't care about you, then you shouldn't have to even bother about them?" She shook her head, exhaling. "That's a disgusting way of thinking. If the whole world thought like that-"

"The whole world doesn't think like that!" He growled, standing up straight. He noticed, he really was much taller than her, a full head at least. "Only I do."

He watched her carefully, she didn't even bother to hide the emotions that crossed her face. Scorn, resentment, pity, worry, sadness. Wait, what the hell? Her emotions had just dropped down, exceedingly growing all the more sympathetic. Sympathy, for him? He didn't even get that for himself!

He smirked at her, giving that signature flick of the lips that he knows sets her off like a time bomb. You know what, he had had a shitty time today, the one time he tries to figure out his true feelings, and it ends up turning into a mess. Maybe he should try something with her. He was sick of feeling confused like he was, he needed to relax and return to his old, natural self who didn't care about things so much, who always kept his cool, and who didn't accidentally break expensive items in his own home.

"Akari~san." He said in a silky voice, stalking across the room and over to the music player at the wall. He turned it on, and smooth melodies of sound reached across the room, bouncing off the walls, surrounding the two. "Do you," He stalked closer to her with predatory steps, and she seemed to being frozen to the floor in her same spot, blanching at his sudden change in attitude. "know..." He neared her until he was a few steps in front of her, and then slyly extended one long, firmly muscled arm, and he held out his un-bandaged hand for her to take. "How to dance?" His eyes glinted at her in what he knew was a mesmerizing way.

"What? What are you-"

Before she could finish he grabbed her hand, pulled her abruptly to him, and they both automatically assumed the natural ballroom dancing position, his left hand holding her right hand, their elbows extended elegantly. Her left hand settling itself automatically on his right shoulder, and his right arm settled low around her back, holding her in place, his hand pressed to her back firmly.

He grinned evilly at her, one of his sharp canines poking out from inside of his mouth and over his lips, and he basked in the entertainment her surprised and partially-infuriated look gave him. She had only assumed the natural position because it was something that came with such a familiar ease, he knew, but he would now be able to keep her there since she was tight in his grasp.

"I would assume you know how to follow my lead," And he was backing her up and moving her around, they were suddenly dancing, sweeping together across the dance floor. "Since you have attended your father's social events and parties before."

"Are- are you drunk, all of a sudden, or something?" She asked, unable to break away from him or his gaze as they sidestepped the messy area on the floor and he glided with her to the other end of the room.

He laughed, throwing his head back, mercilessly leading her in his smooth, sweeping, talented steps, twirling her around too many times to make her slightly light-headed, dizzy to his liking.

"St-op." She faintly demanded as he dipped her elegantly, and then before she could get a break, twirled her around and brought her crashing back into his chest hard, all the while still laughing with mirth and sly pleasure.

He wasn't going to stop. He was going to continue, until he reached his goal and got what he had been wanting from her since the beginning...

Eyebrows sliding down and slanted low, eyes narrowed, half-lidded, and lips pulled in a slender, slim form across his face, pulled upwards slightly at the corners, his mouth opening just slightly to show a bit of white teeth between those smooth, inviting lips.

Tora Igarashi's smirk was one that was dangerously tantalizing, and something that could seriously destroy your brain cells if you stared at it for too long, Akari was sure of this.

As he spun and whirled with her in a fantastic blur around the room, the sweet, palpable music that emitted from the sound equipment and the low, deep, throaty chuckles that escaped from his throat were the only things she was able to hear. That, and the frantic sound her heart was making in her chest, slamming against her rib cage rhythmically with the music.

"Tora..." She murmured, her vision blurred by his guiding, long sweeping movements, her head wildly throbbing from being pulled and pushed along with him, against him, in front of him, beside him, around him- and her legs automatically on their own moving with him, wherever he went, following whatever steps he did. They could certainly both dance, both having learned from a young age, though he was a prestigious partner on the dance floor that was incredible in his movements, and she almost felt mediocre despite her years and years of training.

As if he knew when the song would chose to end (and, actually, he probably did know) he abruptly and swiftly pulled her to a stop, hovering her right directly in front of his extending and withdrawing chest, and they were both now frozen together like that, panting with their bodies now filled with adrenaline.

Silence wasn't filling the room for Akari, all she could hear were deafening sounds in her ears, a steady left over rhythm within herself from the song, her heartbeat dancing with the foreign rhythm, and then the sound just above her head, Tora's own breathing, his intakes and exhales coming as quick and breathless as hers.

She was so disoriented even still, though she was sure they had been stopped like that for a few minutes now, and her head felt light, as did her feet, and she felt that she needed to be grounded, needed support, and yet wanted to stay floating, higher and higher, the beat inside of her carrying it with her. She hadn't danced like that since before her mother passed, when she used to live at her dad's estate, and they held grand parties and danced until the night turned to dawn.

She had no idea that Tora had leaned in further until she felt a current of hot, enticing breath just below her ear on her neck. Her already red face felt even redder at the contact, and she glanced up at him as he leaned back just slightly to catch her eye. She was still panting a bit harshly, but his breaths came softer now, he had composed himself sooner than she had. His smirk was still collected there on his face, killing off what little remained of her brain cells. Her mind felt blank and it took her so long to realize just how close they were- he had stopped them in a different position; his arm around her lower back was still hooked there tightly, his right hand that she had treated his cut for clasped against her the lowest point of her back now, but she was pulled up into his chest, and his hand that had been holding hers was now at her face, his fingers ghosting across her cheek, warmth touching warmth, yet causing her to shiver at the touch.

Those warm fingers of his stopped suddenly, the trail across her cheek ending at her lips, and gently, he pressed his thumb into her lower lip, massaging it lightly, pulling it down, parting her lips for him. She watched his heavy gaze settled on her lips and then her eyes found his lips as well, no longer smirking but set into a serious, determined line. His own lips parted a bit the moment he parted hers, and, still dizzy, she reached a hand up and gripped his upper arm, his bicep clenching and flexing as it noticed her touch.

And then he was leaning in... his smoldering gaze flicking to her eyes before he closed them, and she copied his example, lowering her eyelids, seeing nothing but black, but smooth darkness, as she felt his hot breath now against her chin, closing in, the breath against her lips now, and she knew he must be very close...

She gripped his arm tightly, squeezing it in desperation as he pressed his lips to hers, sending a message to her still-dancing heart to make it stop beating for a moment. They stayed together like that too long, she should have pulled away immediately but her last chance at that was lost when she didn't try to escape those lips of his. She indulged in the taste- it was nothing and something altogether, it was strange, foreign, uninvited but yet it fit in with her to her liking. As their lips molded, as he crushed hers softly against his own, she felt his injured hand leave the spot from where he held her at her back and come up to her face, holding her cheek while his other hand reached back and pulled her hair out of it's severely messed-up bun, letting her short waves fall down around her shoulders, and then he buried a hand in it behind her neck, pulling her head in even closer, opening and closing his mouth back on hers, nipping at her top lip, then pulling at her bottom lip with those teeth of his...

The smell of the rubbing alcohol that cascaded into her nose from the hand to her left that was settled on her cheek was making her head even lighter, peeling away any restraint she could possibly have. And then his smell came to linger with it, the pinching smell of sweat, adrenaline, and a faint cologne that reminded her of spring rain- no- fall storms.

He broke off the kiss so suddenly she sucked in air very loudly, the lack of contact giving her chance to sniffle for air. She opened up her eyes to look once again, and saw his heavily lidded gaze looking more dangerous than ever before- predatory and lustful, not a safe combination.

Roughly he grabbed at her, his hands pulling and unbuttoning the fourth button on her shirt, and then the fifth... leaving her shirt hanging half-way open, her undershirt visible underneath, since she hadn't only been wearing her bra.

He growled and took off the rest of her shirt, practically ripping the rest of the buttons from their sewn seams and then yanking the long sleeves off of her arms. He pulled her into the wall then- his hands roaming her curves hungrily, trailing down her hips, stopping there to massage around her skirt, and then traveling back up her body, past her sides and over onto her arms, smoothing the bare skin of her forearms and then lightly touching her shoulders before daring to venture closer together, down lower, and finally resting, palms flat, against her harshly rising and falling chest.

She all of a sudden seemed to remember where she was and just what it was she was doing, and reached up both her hands to clench around each of his wrists.

"Igarashi, what are you doing?!" She hissed, her breath jagged but her gaze un-fogging itself, the leftover remains of the dancing and the kiss' adrenaline slowly receding to a darker place within her. It was like she was waking up from a dream she hadn't had any control over.

"Shut up..." He said, his eyes still half-lidded, his gaze still mesmerizing, trying to control hers, trying to suck her back in.

And she could have sworn, it was nearly almost working...

Tora Igarashi was being teased to no end. That mini bit of cleavage showing from beneath her button-up had tricked him into thinking she had nothing but a bra on under there, that he only needed to take off that one shirt to feel her skin...

But no, she had somehow come prepared with an undershirt as well, tucked tightly into her skirt and still only revealing that slight, teasing bit of cleavage...

But he would deal with that later. Right now, all he wanted to do was fill his needs to the brim with her. Her body was hot and the same as his, sweating and unable to be controlled by their minds. His hands roamed her, landing on his favorite part, and that's when she seemed to snap out of it. Asking stupid questions again and grasping his wrists, trying to pull him off. She was such a damn tease!

"Shut up..." He had muttered while looking at her, and that was right before he pressed his throbbing hips down low to reach hers, something throbbing even more between them. He was taller than her, so he was leaning downwards slightly- normally, it would be pushed into her lower stomach area if he didn't do this.

She had gasped, looking about ready to slap him and yet, she also looked turned on. Almost as turned on as he was. He found himself wondering if she were wet yet.

Well, why not find out?

When one of his hands left her breast, she let go of that wrist. But when that hand continued to travel south, until it brushed and pressed it's fingers over her leg and then under her skirt and across her thigh, she made another frustrated sound and was quick to reach at his hand again, her smaller fingers encircling his wrist and jerking upwards with all her strength, pulling his arm up only slightly so that now it was out of her skirt and resting in front of her stomach.

"Igarashi! Stop it, we- we still have a mess to clean up!"

It was obvious the wanton kiss was still holding an effect on her as well, because he knew that with a clear mind she could certainly come up with a better excuse than that. He grumbled and again pushed his member against her, hitting the spot directly in between her legs and causing both of them to moan together, their voices deadly-lustful.

"Let's add another mess to the first now then, so that we don't have to clean the room up twice..." He mumbled, his voice much lower than it usually is, and he knew that the kiss was indeed still effecting his brain and everything else too, because he knew he could come up with a much better come-back than that.

"Igarashiii... no." She groaned as he pressed his chest into hers, with her back against the wall, sandwiching her in and making sure to keep his hips firmly planted where they were, rubbing, circling, trying to make her break and agree to both of their exotic, animalistic needs.

"I. garrr. ahhhsshhhiiii... neh," She moaned louder as he used his last choice, the deadly weapon- his tongue- and her greatest weakness- her throat- before dragging it, hot and moist, from her collarbone and all the way up her neck, slowly, leisurely, to her chin. Stopping just below there, he suckled- causing her to squirm, which in turn caused them both to give breathy moans as their hips and inner thighs heated up on contact.

He pulled away when her grip on his wrists finally loosed themselves, and then he rapidly undid each button on his long-sleeved shirt, all the while keeping his gaze steady on hers, watching her red face carefully and seeing the way her pupils grew and eyes widened when she saw he was undressing for her like that.

"Wha-"

Once his shirt was completely unbuttoned he didn't have the time to throw it off before she started trying to object and ask questions again, and he abruptly pulled forward and captured her lips in their second kiss, the pressure building as their lips molded together and he pressed hers eagerly, causing her to stop whatever it was she had been about to say.

He pulled back, slowly dragging his tongue across her bottom lip in the sexiest way possible, and then he unexpectedly reached down, grabbed one of her hands in one of his while his other arm was outstretched with his palm against the wall behind her, enclosing her with him. The hand that held hers was quick to bring it forward- pushing her fingers to his bare abdomen, sliding it up his bare chest to where his shirt hung lazily at the edges of his shoulders, and keeping her smooth palm pressed to just below his collarbone, watching her reactions all the while. Her dilated pupils, her gasps when he knew she could feel every toned bump of an ab, the outlining of his tightly-bound muscles underneath the light pale-golden skin, her fingers glancing over the straight line dividing his pecks and separating his very well-toned but not overly-defined, abs.

"Remember," He said huskily, leaning closer, removing his hand from hers and relishing in the fact that her stare remained on what lay beneath his shirt and was now displayed before her, the fact that her hand had stayed were it was on him. "When I told you that you could touch me?"

Her gaze flickered warily to his, and he could tell there was a fire within her just like his, begging to get out and have it's way with him, despite the disgusting look she was trying and failing to pull at him. Her chin lowered and then raised itself- it was the tiniest nod.

"If you remember that," He said and now pressed his other hand to the other side of her on the wall behind her, now trapping her on all sides, front and back, left and right. He leaned in really close to her face then. "Then go ahead and do it."

Akari felt lost in a depth of golden flames and sunshine-tanned skin. Her brain was muddled yet her thoughts were clear enough.

Run away, Akari! Do something Akari!

When he basically just told her to touch him, though, she struggled better than before, which was surprising considering how nice his body was. But she knew that if she touched him, he would touch her then, and she wouldn't be having any of that.

"NO." She said, and he breathed hard against her ear, but blinked, highly surprised.

"You're so damn resistant and yet you want this too." He whispered, and she stared him right in the eye this time, peeling her gaze from his chest.

"And you are mistaken."

He narrowed his eyes, and let his tongue slip across his lips, wetting them. She thought to herself, the silent boy who she had been doctoring not too long ago was not the same person as the growling, glistening slick, fiercely yellow animal-eyed, hot, messy, sweaty teenager before her now.

"I can prove I'm not mistaken at all." He said with a sly grin.

Unexpectedly, something hard warm and throbbing with need pressed again, tighter, against the insides of her thighs. She panted like a dog, squeezing her eyes shut for a second, the burning in between her legs increasing in wetness and heat, and she whined at him for putting her in such a position. He groaned in front of her, a sound coming from deep down in his throat that succeeded in turning her on all the more.

"Akari..." He mumbled, throwing his head back and then forwards, touching his sweat-slicked forhead to her own, panting. "See... told you I could prove... that I'm not mistaken." He thrust again, and she could tell his pants were too tight, could feel it grown up between her thighs, and he got the response he wanted from her- she moaned his name, lightly, but still enough for him to hear.

He seemed to perk up from there, feeling more confident that she was breaking now, and his fingers traveled up her arms, he hooked one through the strap of her white undershirt, bringing it slowly down, off of her shoulder. He did the same to the other strap on her other shoulder, but when he tried to get the straps pulled down and off of her arms so that he could strip the shirt from her body, she was fast to grab each of his strong forearms, refusing to let him take it any further.

"No, stop it, stop..."

And before he could realize what she was about to do, she slunk down the wall and escaped underneath his arms, not even bothering to grab her uniform shirt as she hurried to the door, pulling the straps back up on both shoulders.

"I should get someone to sweep up the glass and mop up before the blood completely stains the floor, since you need to take care of, uh- your little problem." She said, turning to address him and becoming aroused all over again as she stared at his panting, reddened, slightly-half-naked form still pressing his palms to the wall, and pointedly eyeing his manhood pressing outward from inside his pants, proving what exactly she was talking about.

Before another word she zipped past the door, shutting it behind her and heading to her room to grab a shirt before she would go to address any of the maids about what had originally at first been the REAL 'little problem'.

But how did a broken vase turn into an erection?!

He sighed. In order to get rid of his, not little, but actually quite largely-sized problem, he would have to do more than just take a cold shower- he'd have to completely indulge himself in a bucket of ice!

"God fucking damn it all." He hissed, buttoning up his shirt and hurrying to his room before anyone could see.

It didn't take the young athletic man long to arrive at his door, and when he slammed and locked it behind him, all he could think to do was just get everything off of him, NOW.

He raced with himself to rip off his shirt and unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants- and then, when he was also free of his boxers, he took a deep, relieved breath and then stared down at the damage that had been done in that room.

He was absolutely throbbing and it hurt. That girl, that bitch would have to pay. He now was glaring down at himself. This, surely, was hell. And so she'll have hell to pay! Oh he'll make sure of that!

Did females even know what the male species had to be tortured through when they were teased like that?!

"GOD fucking dammit. No, they don't know a thing!" He sneered.

He touched it tentatively, groaning at the contact. How could she DO this to him?

No, wait. How could SHE do this to HIM? Him, TORA IGARASHI!

You started it yourself, remember.

Oh yes, and then she ended it, unfortunately.

"I know that!" He yelled at the voice in his head, and quickened himself into the bathroom, not having any care to hurt his pride by handling himself.

No, if he wanted release, you could bet his entire inheritance that he would definitely be getting it from her.

A/N: I know. Very smutty. You likey? This is rated M, after all. Did you think they were going to rip each other's faces off? GOOD 0_0

It has occurred to me that my Author Notes are waaayy long.

What can I say? I'm talkative.

But I don't want to seem like an imbecile, so-

I will be shortening these things up unless someone wishes for me to stop and revert to my old Author's Note ways. Because I would do anything you guys want, really, cuz you rock *awwww's* (but you are still my peasants)

Short and Sweet~ Love yah'll, thanks for reading, and R&R, Favorite, and Follow! Oooh, is that called F&F? I dunno but I'm gonna call it that.

R&R and F&F, if you please, or else Akari will end up having to do 500 push-ups for her mean sensei, and Misaki will end up having to dress up as a cute Pokemon for Usui! heh.

Preview of what may happen if you don't review/rate/follow/favorite:

Usui: Oooh, Misa-chan! You look adorable! Say cheese~! *snaps photo on phone*

Misaki: *sniff* w-whhyyy, viewers, why... AND WHAT THE HELL USUI, JIGGLYPUFF?!

Usui: You look cute even pink and fat, don't worry ^_^ *snaps 5 more photos*

Misaki: O_0 I hate you all. Especially you, and you, and you...

...Meanwhile...

Sensei: I don't care if your arms break off, you weren't good enough in your own story for us to get any reviews, so this is your punishment!

Akari: One hundred and seventeen... one hundred and eighteen... *huff, huff* Jeez, you viewers... you all owe me one! I can't feel my arms! Umm... TWO HUNDRED...

Sensei: WRONG! You were not to two hundred, not even close yet! That's another hundred push-ups for you now because you tried to cheat!

Akari: D_: But it's not even my fault in the first place that we didn't get our viewers to listen to us!

End of Preview. R&R and F&F!

Sincerely your author and oppressive overlord;

CK :*

(damn it, this turned out to be nothing like an A/N that is short and sweet! It's instead long and cruel! _ I'll try again next time)