DISCLAIMER: SKIP BEAT! and its associated characters are the creations of Yoshiki Nakamura. This author claims no ownership of Skip Beat or any of its characters. All other rights reserved.
Warning: NSFW
Additional Author's Notes at bottom of the page.
Chapter XVIII: The Return of Ren Tsuruga
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill…
She woke to his fingers stroking her urgently, his body flush behind hers. The skies were a pale grey but the room was still dark. She could hear the pre-dawn chorus of birdsong just outside. One of his arms was underneath her, trapping her against him, and the other was clutching at her breasts; one of his thighs was between her legs as he ground his cock against her back. His mouth was on her neck, kissing it as he nuzzled into her hair. She came awake with an electric jolt as a hand moved down and his finger entered her, playing with a wetness that she thought she'd only dreamed into being.
"Kuon," she whimpered, "Again?"
"Again." Now that she was awake, he let go of her upper body as he flung off their blanket and moved in between her legs, relishing the tiny squeal she made as he dragged her down and spread her wide. Saturday had ignited a kind of madness in them both. He'd never really understood what it meant when people said "they couldn't keep their hands off each other" until Kyoko. Everything changed around Kyoko. When they got back to the ryokan on Sunday, he'd insisted she spend the night with him—whether that was on her threadbare futon or on his luxurious bed, he didn't care much. All he knew was that there was no way he was going to allow her to sleep on the other side of the building.
Neither of them got much sleep over the weekend.
Kyoko threw back her head as he licked her slit, bringing one hand to grab at his gold hair as she ground his face into her. He grunted approvingly of her roughness, laving at the moisture from her pussy as she whimpered. She was biting into her other fist, trying not to cry out; he was doing everything to make her lose control. She was quickly finding that he was a demanding lover, one whose stamina was only matched by his innate perversion. The last thirty hours or so had been spent in utter debauchery, and she'd been thoroughly willing. More than willing. If she had to admit it to herself, she wanted to learn everything he knew just so she could have the satisfaction of seeing him completely undone. Just as he did to her, over and over again.
The tongue entered into her and she gasped, but he stopped before she could find her release. "Kuon!" she cried out. He knew exactly how to torture her, how to make her beg and plead.
"Hold yourself open for me," he said, getting up on his knees and looking down at her. "Show yourself to me. Tell me how much you want my cock." He was holding it in his hands and stroking it slowly as she grew slightly lightheaded at the sight of it.
Kyoko panted and whimpered. It was so shameless, so brazen, putting herself on display like this. She couldn't look him in the eye. Blushing, she slowly brought her knees up and parted her legs, feeling his gaze raking over her all the while. Knowing he was looking was in itself embarrassing and intoxicating at the same time.
"Wider," he said, in a tone that brooked no challenge. The voice that came out of him was rough with need. He was fighting to keep his voice even and steady, even though the sight of her long, slender legs open for him drove him wild.
She saw his tongue lick at his lip, clenched at the sight of him, and parted her legs even wider. I want you, her body was telling him. She couldn't help it—she was a wanton and filthy woman, and he had utterly perverted her. The coolness of the air in the room made her especially aware of her lewdness, feeling the moisture from her pussy drip and drool down her thigh and onto the mattress. She knew what he wanted, and took her hand to hold her labia open with her fingers. The action made her even more aware of the aching emptiness in her that wanted to be filled—that had not yet had enough despite all they'd done for the past two days. Her body was arching towards him, her hips rolling upwards in offering.
He could see the bright pink of her pussy, glistening and wet and waiting for him.
"Good," he growled. She felt his voice in her bones, making her heart beat faster. "Now look at me."
She looked at him, finding herself lost again in those emerald-green eyes. There were times when she swore he could look all the way down to the bottom of her soul, but right now, all he said was "Are you mine?"
She felt him move his cock to her pussy, feeling it breach her outer lips as she held them open for him. "Are you?" he asked again. She moved her hips up, trying to impale herself on him, but he was holding her still.
Another centimeter entered her, and moved her hand from her pussy to clutch at him as she gasped, saying "Yes…I'm yours…fuck…me…Kuon!"
He grinned as he heard her curse and moved his hips sharply forward, sheathing his whole length inside in one swift motion.
The pleasure was enough to make her lift off of the bed. This had quickly become her favorite part of their ritual—the way he entered her, the first stroke of many. It felt like being conquered, felt like being invaded, like being subjugated by a loving tyrant. He felt so impossibly wide that she couldn't possibly clutch at him tightly enough. She felt claimed and loved and, most of all, she felt absolutely needed. He looked at her like a man who would go absolutely insane if he couldn't be with her just like this, and she fucking loved it.
He held still long enough for her to adjust to his length, and then he descended to cover her body with his. "I'm yours too, Kyoko," he whispered into her ear. Tenderly his hands reached for hers, entwining her fingers in his before using his considerable strength to pin her wrists down by her head. His mouth found hers as he began moving into her, swallowing her moan as his length pushed against her spot and stimulated her clit. She wrapped her legs around him as he pushed harder into her, straining against the hands that held her down. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, too, though the feeling of captivity engendered from this was deeply erotic.
The hands shifted and now they were around her, holding her close to him as he trapped her between the bed and his body. She gave herself up to him, letting her body respond on its own, savoring the taste of his tongue in her mouth. For this, she would forgo sleep—for this, she would forgo food, even. The force of his thrusts shook her and the bed with his savagery. She could feel her heartbeat against her chest as the tension grew, could feel herself crying out incoherently and they spiraled upwards until he cried out her name and came, bringing her with him. He caught his breath and kissed her desperately, holding her close again. With her, the ecstasy was so acute it was nearly painful.
"I love you," he said.
She looked at him—looked at his face reddened with his exertions and their pleasure. His tenderness after each time they made love was still unfamiliar. The words had been on the tip of her tongue for days now, but she had yet to muster the courage she needed to say them out loud. But right now, nestled in his arms, she found a tiny bubble of courage and rode it upwards until the words came out of her mouth.
"I love you too," she whispered. She was blushing bright red, trying to hide her face in the crook of his neck.
His eyes widened. Though he told her "I love you" as often as he could, she hadn't said the words yet, not exactly. He knew that her native restraint precluded her from making grand declarations of affection—he was happy just to have her reach for his hand, for fuck's sake. The quiet confession bloomed inside him and filled him with warmth, and he couldn't help the smile that blinded her just moments later.
"My Kyoko." He was clutching at her, half-afraid she'd disappear. "Don't let go of me. Not ever."
"I won't." He felt her relax into him, the exhaustion from their weekend of coupling overtaking her. He smiled as she drifted off into sleep again. It wasn't quite dawn yet—they could afford to sleep for another hour or so.
He stroked her hair, kissing her softly on the forehead. He was fighting the afterglow in an effort to watch over her as she slept. He didn't want to lose a second of this to sleep.
"Kuon," she whimpered, and he stroked her hair to calm her. Just the idea of her dreaming of him was enough to make him smile again.
He wouldn't have this for much longer.
Ren Tsuruga was coming for him, and there was no way to stop it.
=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=
Kyoko woke up with a start, bright morning light on her face. It was significantly later than her usual wake-up time, but the fact that she'd overslept was somewhat…unsurprising, given their activities. The thought was enough to make her blush, though she felt languorous and safe and warm, wrapped up in Kuon's arms. She'd fallen asleep with her head on his chest. He had dozed off, too, and his breathing was easy and quiet. Even in sleep he was too beautiful. His lashes were long and golden on his cheek, his impressive pecs and biceps just visible over the blanket that covered them both. For a while she simply stayed still, enjoying his warmth and watching his sleeping face. He'd told her that today, people from his agency were coming and he would turn back into Ren Tsuruga…and they'd have to be discreet until he could coordinate things with the President. Still, when she saw him like this, she couldn't quite believe it. His arrival had upended everything she thought she knew and overwrote the future she thought she wanted with something so intoxicating that her mind's eye was blinded. How could she deny him? No one had ever taken the time to care about the things she thought, or learn about the things she wanted. And if a fortune teller had told her what her summer would be like, she would have laughed. How could she have believed it?
She loved him so much it terrified her. Even this morning, when she'd confessed, her heart had beat so quickly she was afraid it would bounce right out of her chest. Was this OK? Was it OK for her to want him like this? Surely this wasn't normal. Even with all of her innocent dreams of a pastel-colored-lovey-dovey-world lying in fragmented shards at her feet, she couldn't bring herself to believe how fiercely she loved him.
Just a little longer, she thought to herself, breathing in his scent. A little longer of enjoying him like this, sleeping in her arms while the world around them turned. Let it turn, she thought. There would be time enough for endless inanities in the future. Right now, she was with her lover, and everything was well in the world.
He stirred as she shifted and then his sleepy green eyes were looking at her. "Good morning," she said.
He stretched slowly like a cat, extending his limbs and yawning. "It was the nightingale, and not the lark," he said, smiling crookedly. He grabbed her again and then rose to cage her in his arms. "...That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear," he continued, nibbling at her ear.
She grinned back at him, wriggling away. "It was the lark, the herald of the morn," she replied. She shook her head. "Night's candles are burnt out."
He laughed at her and kissed her again, feeling his arousal grow. It should have been impossible, but she did things to him that no one had ever done. Had she given him superpowers? He supposed shortened recovery time would count, wouldn't it? How many times had they…? He deepened the kiss. It made sense that he couldn't get enough of her—she was his soulmate, after all. His hands were at her breasts, and he could tell she wanted him too. He was moving down to lick at her breasts and she was squirming—
"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG!"
"Fuck," he said. He grabbed the offending phone to turn off the ringer, until he saw the Caller ID. "It's the Shachou," he muttered to Kyoko.
Lory Takarada, damn him, had finally called him back.
"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG!"
"Goddammit, Lory," he said. "Why are you calling so early?"
Kyoko was watching Kuon with wide eyes. 'Lory'? she thought. He calls the President 'Lory'? She remembered the President from her audition—an impossibly showy man…an eccentric, to say the least. But she hadn't remembered his name. She sidled off the bed, feeling exposed and somewhat vulnerable, searching for the clothes that Kuon had thrown all over the room in their haste to get into bed that night, finding her shirt and then her skirt hurriedly, along with her underwear and slippers. Quickly, she got dressed as Kuon spoke on the phone. From the look of the sun, it was already relatively late in the day—and by now, everyone would have noticed that her room had not been slept in. She knew people from his agency were coming—perhaps that was why the Shachou was calling. Kuon had been frustrated by his inability to reach him all weekend, but there was no changing the plans for today. He was due on the set of his new movie at 2 that afternoon, just for a meet and greet and orientation. Tomorrow, shooting was to begin in earnest.
"Don't give me that Takarada superpower bullshit, Lory—" Kuon was saying.
Kyoko froze. A memory was dislodging itself from deep in her head. Lory Takarada, she thought. Takarada-sama, the man who I was to call if Kuon refused to eat. And then the memory resurfaced, of standing on the stage awkwardly next to that girl who said "Mo" all the time and watching a flurry of scantily clad dancers and feathers reveal a flamboyant man who'd taken the microphone and said, "I'm Lory Takarada." How could she have forgotten? She cringed at the memory of that day and the radish rose and began creeping to the door, sneaking past Kuon's back as he listened to Takarada-san on the phone. She could hear the man talking, giving Kuon what sounded like directions.
She was almost to the door when she felt him grab her by the wrist, pulling her close even while he used his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear. His eyes looked at her questioningly, but she merely pointed to the time on the digital clock next to his bed and mouthed "breakfast" as Takarada-sama kept talking.
Kuon nodded, kissing her pinkie as she left.
=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=
"Early, Kuon?" Lory drawled into the phone. "It's 8:30! Since when is that early to you?" Hardly early, especially for someone like Ren Tsuruga. By 8:30, Ren was likely to have been on set for an hour, coiffed and camera-ready and waiting impatiently for whatever co-stars he had to show up. Kuon, apparently, kept different hours.
"Since you sent me here," Kuon growled, "and made me quit my job for the summer."
"So touchy. I take it you and Kyoko-chan have gotten a bit friendlier, hmm?"
"What makes you think that?"
"Call it a Takarada super-power."
"Don't give me that Takarada superpower bullshit, Lory—"
"Perhaps I had a vision."
"Fuck you."
"In any case, I think our little project was a success, no? You found the thing that made you happy?"
Lory waited for Kuon's response, anticipating another explosive rejoinder. But somehow the boy wasn't answering…he sounded…distracted. He heard rustling in the background, some footsteps.
A bulb went off in his head.
"She's there right now, isn't she?" He was…torn halfway between shock and glee. He knew from Yayoi that the indomitable Kyoko-chan was only 17…and Kuon was calling it 'early' in the morning?! Was he…did they…?! "Kuon! Answer me."
"For the record, Lory, no. She isn't here right now." Lory could hear the regret in his voice. "She'll be back with breakfast at some point."
"She'll be back!? So she was there."
Kuon groaned inwardly. Good going, you idiot, he told himself. Letting Lory know about their weekend activities was not going to be in his best interest. He'll be insufferable now.
"No, don't say anything. I hope you have written consent from the Okami-san to date her, and if not, you'd better get it. For you. AND for Ren Tsuruga."
"We've taken care of it," Kuon said through clenched teeth. Of course they'd taken care of it. If anything, Yayoi had essentially taken him aside by the scruff of his neck and discussed it after the day Kyoko had come back with her implant. Running afoul of the child protection laws was not something he wanted to risk.
"Good god, please tell me you're using protection—"
"Lory!" Kuon had to interrupt this vein of discussion. "We've taken care of it!"
"I trust—"
"Lory, there's a problem—"
"—that you have." Lory raised an eyebrow, pausing. "A problem?" Inwardly, he sighed. He had a good idea of what Kuon had wanted to talk to him about.
"Maybe you didn't notice the two dozen times I called you this weekend? We were spotted. There was definitely a photographer following me around."
"I've taken care of it," Lory said, using the same brusque tone Kuon had used earlier in their conversation.
Kuon sucked in a surprised breath. "You've taken care of it? What do you mean, 'you've taken care of it'?" How did this man know? He knew Lory could be creepy—this entire forced-summer-vacation thing was his idea, after all. Kuon was immensely grateful for it now, but Lory had sent him here without any idea of what would happen—or who was here. Had the photographer contacted Lory and attempted to blackmail him? Had there been a request for comment from LME? For fuck's sake…how much had Lory paid to shut this guy up?
"Simply that. I have the only copies of the photos they took. I've secured a non-disclosure. You did an admirable job of evading. Imagine my surprise when I received these photos—nothing but a foreigner's face with obnoxiously large sunglasses. And I still don't know what lovely little Kyoko-chan looks like."
"Who was it? Who are they working for?"
"I can't reveal my sources. You know that. It's another Takarada super-power."
"Let me get this straight. You knew—you've known this entire time, when I was calling you, that there was someone tailing us? And you didn't take my call? Lory, you know what my fans are like—and Kyoko never asked for any of this—"
Kuon's voice was rising in a way that Lory hadn't heard since that first awful year after Rick died. Ren certainly never, ever sounded distressed or flustered. And over a girl! Lory was impressed. For Kuon to hurl his anger out like this was unheard of. As far as he knew, the Kuon of the past had reacted to every girl he'd dated with a calm placidity without strong passion whatsoever. Wasn't it Juli herself who told him that every girl Kuon had dated dumped him? Not this Kyoko, though. Every interaction he'd had with this Kyoko girl had impressed him. To think she had the always-elegant-Ren-Tsuruga in panic mode…! Well. Not quite Ren, he supposed. And it wasn't so much panic as it was…rage. He'd clearly been wrong to assume that 'Kuon's' more problematic aspects had been sublimated entirely into the Tsuruga persona that his young charge had created.
But he had to head off this crisis. Kuon had to be placated.
"She will be protected with every asset LME has at its disposal so long as you're in my employ."
"I can hear you grinning that creepy grin you always get whenever you're plotting something."
"Creepy grin? My boy, I'm simply happy for you. And you know how I feel about true love."
"'The Love Monster' protecting its own?"
"Nothing less than that." Lory sighed and took a puff of his cigar. "The LoveMon's work is never done, young man."
Kuon snorted.
"You mock me, but I value love, Kuon, and you've been sorely lacking in it. I told you this when you left. If your situation had been different, I never would've taken you on as you were before. I've been so proud of you over the years, but your love of acting was never going to compensate for your lack of true love—"
Kuon wanted to stop him before he went off on a rant.
"We need to protect Kyoko." It was a bald statement. Not a proposal, not a question.
"Mmm. You might have noticed that there aren't even rumors about Kana and Sakura-chan floating around out there. Trust that I have some competence in protecting my talents, at least."
"I know that I'm your real-life otome game, old man, but Kyoko's the only girl with the viable path to a happy ending. I'm trusting that you want that happy ending enough to work with me a little on this."
Lory gave a little laugh which chilled Kuon to the bone, and then asked, "So when shall we inform the public about your new relationship status, hmm?"
Kuon sobered. Lory had spoken flippantly but they both knew this would be a delicate affair. "I don't want to hide her like a dirty little secret," Kuon said.
"And yet you want to protect her from the vultures," Lory responded. "It'll be a tightrope. Surely you know how difficult that will be?"
"I do. But we'll have to manage it somehow. With you on board, it's gotta be possible."
"I appreciate the sentiment, Kuon, but you've never taken to flattery before. This must be serious." A little teasing never hurt anyone, Lory thought. "What does she think?"
"Honestly? I told her I'd blackmail you if I had to, just to protect her."
"Blackmail? That's rich, Kuon." Lory was laughing. "It's a good thing I've agreed to protect her, then. Does she want to be your girlfriend out in public?"
"I hardly want to proclaim it on all the tabloid covers."
"Of course not. But I can deal with the tabloids. And so far the only answers you've given me have about what YOU want. I'll ask again: what does she think?"
Kuon was silent for a few minutes. He and Lory had spoken many times over the years, but until this summer, those had been conversations as Ren. And while Ren had treated Lory as his respected President and mentor, every single conversation until the one which had landed him here at this ryokan never delved much deeper than the surface. The man was wise and cunning—he had a way of knowing things that you didn't want known. But Kuon felt instinctively that nothing but the truth could win him Lory's true allyship here. "I…we…we haven't had a chance to talk about it yet," he said a little sheepishly.
"Mmmhmm. I can only imagine why you've been so busy, Kuon. Honestly…and here I thought you'd matured a little—"
"Lory!" The last thing Kuon wanted was for Lory to think that Kyoko was some floozy who'd simply fallen into bed with him. "It's…it's not like that." He sighed. "I want to be able to hold her hand when we walk down the street. And see her smile when she's happy. Hold umbrellas over her when it rains. Walk down red carpets with her. Take her out to dinner. Lory, I want to buy her stuff. Post pictures of her on my accounts—"
"Mmm," Lory said. He was amused. Kuu Hizuri had a bad habit of waxing poetic (at length!) about the people he loved, and it appeared that Kuon was developing the same trait.
"—want to be able to honor her as my partner, not deny that she exists," Kuon continued, "She's so beautiful and she doesn't even know how beautiful she is…and so fucking kind. There isn't anyone like her anywhere. I know that there's always going to be someone out there that wishes her harm, and I want to be able to say that I'm the absolute best I can to protect her. And Lory, she's so talented—"
"You love her." The sober tone of Lory's voice surprised Kuon. He hadn't quite known what to expect—Lory was quite incisive at times, entirely too perceptive for anyone who really knew him to be really comfortable around him. He'd half expected for Lory to send over a mariachi band and a chorus line to celebrate his status as the goddess of Love's newest disciple. But the sober tone Lory affected was somewhat of a surprise.
"I love her," he echoed.
"I admit I had a feeling about sending you over there, Kuon, but I had no idea that this would be why."
"Even if you hadn't, I would've found her eventually."
"You…really believe that." Lory was grinning. Kuon could hear him grinning.
In fact, Kuon could almost see the ridiculous face Lory got when an otome couple worked out. "Yeah."
"I'll do everything in my power to protect you." Lory sighed and looked at his watch. A Kuon in love would be a loose canon. On one hand, he could likely count on Ren Tsuruga delivering the performances of a lifetime. On the other hand, Lory knew that a Kuon-in-love would also likely be terribly difficult to curb. Kids in love often were, and Kuon was, for all his mature looks and professionalism, still a kid in matters of the heart.
"Thank you, Lory."
"You may not have time for breakfast, loverboy," Lory said. "You know that Ten's coming at 9:30 and you know how long it takes to switch you back. I've already sent Yashiro out with your car."
Kuon sighed. He knew very well that Ten was coming. And Yashiro. He even considered them friends. Much as he valued them in his other life, they were alien presences here. He felt as if he were being yanked forcibly out of a wonderful dream—he'd been placed on Prospero's island and found his Miranda, somewhat more reticent than Shakespeare's original, but no less treasured. But real life was coming for him, and it was coming fast. "I know. I'll be ready," he said. Even to his own ears, he sounded unconvincing.
"I can tell that you're not," Lory replied. "But cheer up. You'll be there while you're filming that sequel. You'll still see her. And it's not as if you didn't know you'd have to leave."
"Just…please. Help us?"
"We'll find a way. Don't forget to love your audience, and we'll find a way."
Lory ended the call with mixed emotions. Part of him was elated. How could he not be? Kuon Hizuri, his ward for lack of a better word, had finally found what looked and smelled like the real thing. It was the thing that Lory had sent him to find, really, though ostensibly he'd called it a search for "happiness." True love, Lory knew, was a force not to be trifled with or taken for granted. And people found it so rarely—most couples loved each other to some extent, but it was clear that Kuon had it bad.
He'd chosen not to assuage Kuon's fears about the photographer for now. That would be an ace he'd keep up his sleeve. If Kuon knew that he'd sent Ruto after him, there was no telling what that loose cannon would do. And in the meantime, he had arrangements to make. Kana, for one. She and Kuon had decided on that madcap cover story all on their own, and he'd have to coordinate a graceful exit for those two idiots.
Meanwhile, it wouldn't do to tell the boy that the photographer he'd spotted was none other than Ruto. The threat of uncontrolled publicity was certainly real enough—if anything, Kuon's reactions showed that he had a good grasp of what a disaster it would be if the public got a hold of his burgeoning romance with his precious Kyoko-chan. But Lory's instincts told him that Kuon's newly minted protectiveness over this girl wouldn't allow him to easily forgive the intrusion on their date, whatever Lory's motivations had been. Even if he could admit to himself that he'd crossed some boundaries, he'd still sent Ruto out for a fact-finding mission and the end result had been valuable: Kuon had been reminded of the realities of the world in which he lived.
Lory continued puffing on his cigar. It was a little early in the morning for one, even for him, but it had been a long and emotional weekend with his own family, what with his son and Maria's reconciliation, and the new situation around Ren would require a deft touch.
He hoped the first day of the Ring Doh sequel would go well.
=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=
Kyoko was staring at her reflection in horror. She'd managed to sneak back to her room with the rest of the ryokan none-the-wiser—she hoped—for a change of clothes, perhaps a quick shower. And then she would make a quick breakfast for her and Kuon, before going to attend to the duties she'd been neglecting so often lately. She grabbed a towel and a change of clothes to head to the bath.
She was just on her way out the door when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror behind her closet door.
The reflection was horrifying.
She stopped and stood stock-still, regarding her reflection with a bit of rising panic.
She looked freshly fucked.
There was no other way to put it. Her lips were swollen. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair tousled. All those things could be…hidden, fixed, or explained away. There was no explaining away the marks on her neck, though.
She gulped. Hesitantly, she raised the shirt which she'd thrown on quickly upon her departure from Kuon's room, only to push it back down in mortification. There were…love marks. Hickeys. Bites. Not just the ones on her neck…but all over her. Her breasts, her abdomen…she knew that if she were to remove her clothes entirely, there would be marks…lower…too. She watched her face turn an awful shade of red. She would have to avoid everyone, wash—she was sure she stank—the last shower she'd taken had been interrupted by Kuon and…well…things had happened since.
She felt dirty. She was dirty.
She managed to sneak into the shower, the soapy water stinging where she was sore, washing away the remains of what they'd done overnight. She was sure she should feel mortified and ashamed, and part of her did—but she also felt giddy. Worse, she didn't feel hungry. She knew she should feel hungry, she and Kuon hadn't really eaten since sometime in the middle of Sunday's afternoon. But they'd been so wrapped up in each other the time had passed by unheeded.
This would not do. This was not a sustainable way of existence. School would be starting soon, was she supposed to go bearing her lover's marks all over her skin? She didn't even want to think what the rumor mill would be like—the last thing she wanted was a reputation beyond the one she already had. She dressed frantically in one of her nakai kimono—a polyester-cotton blend in two parts, the kind that one could launder easily and put on in a trice, coupled it with an easy, pre-tied obi, and then, with some hesitation, found a scarf better suited to the winter than to late August and wrapped it around her neck. She was going to make a quick breakfast for Kuon, who was expecting what he called 'his team' to join him soon, and then that would be that. Summer would be over. Kuon would be Ren, she would be…whatever she was to him. Something. Perhaps nothing. She shook her head, clearing the thoughts away. Not nothing, she told herself. That could be considered later, when she had time—meanwhile, a mad dash to make sure he ate his breakfast.
Somehow she thought these last days would be slower, more solemn, not this crazed undignified sprint through the bathroom and the kitchen, preparing eggs and some bacon for a Western breakfast with toast that she knew Kuon would eat. Somehow she'd thought that she'd feel less flustered, more sure, more able to say goodbye. But things had gone too far, things had been done that could not be undone, and it was only as she was plating the eggs that she looked up to see Yayoi staring at her and the scarf that she stopped her mad whirlwind through the kitchen.
"Kyoko-chan," the older woman said quietly.
"Okami-san," Kyoko replied. She knew her cheeks were burning, but there was no hiding from Yayoi's perceptive gaze.
"Takarada-san called this morning. Hizuri-san will be…transforming, I understand."
She nodded her head up and down. Yes. For a while they simply stood, uncomfortably not looking at each other. "Kyoko-chan?" Kyoko raised her head. Yayoi was looking at her with an unreadable expression in her eyes. "He didn't…force you, did he?"
Kyoko was considering melting into the floor. "No, Yayoi-san," she said. "He…um…thank you for your forethought…that time last week."
"I thought so." There was an unexpected note in Yayoi's voice. Kyoko looked up in surprise. Even though the older woman had taken her to the doctor's, she still expected a lecture. And yet when she looked into Yayoi's eyes, all she saw was…warmth. Affection, even. And then, unexpectedly, Kyoko's gaze fell to Yayoi's neck…where some concealer was unsuccessfully sitting on top of a bruise that looked very much like the one on Kyoko's own neck. Kyoko's eyes went wide. Was this some new perceptive power she had, now that she was no longer a pure, virginal girl? She'd never even considered—Yayoi-san and Etsuro-san had always been—but—clearly—well—they were married, weren't they!?
Yayoi blushed and looked away. "It seems we've both had…interesting weekends," she told Kyoko. "But I am glad we made you that appointment after all," she continued.
Kyoko felt like melting into the floor. What in the world could this possibly mean? Yayoi and Etsuro had—? She didn't even want to finish the thought. The very idea mortified Kyoko. Of course…they…surely…well—they'd had Sho, hadn't they? So of course they were only doing what married couples did…right? The thought was so mortifying Kyoko almost whimpered. She didn't know if she could blush any redder.
Yayoi watched Kyoko's face turn an amusing shade of pink, and then an even more amusing shade of red. She, too, was somewhat mortified—particularly once she realized that Kyoko understood what the bruising on her neck meant. Perhaps she should grab a scarf, as well, as the concealer was apparently not concealing. But in the end, she just had to stifle a giggle, and reminded herself that she and Etsuro were a married couple and occasionally, married couples did such things. Passion need not be reserved for the young, after all, and it had been Kyoko and Kuon themselves that had whipped Etsuro up into such a frenzy.
"Takarada-san told me that someone will be arriving at 9:30am. We'll have the boat take a little longer, Kyoko-chan. Get him his breakfast." And then she winked.
Kyoko stared after her with her mouth open before leaving the kitchen with the tray for Kuon.
=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=
"Kyoko?" he was asking. "Why the scarf?"
Kyoko blushed and looked as if she were trying to hide behind the piece of toast. "It's nothing," she said, "I just…um…felt a little cold."
"It's 31 degrees out there, love," he countered. He was grinning. He had a good idea why she was wearing the scarf and, if anything, he felt a little proud of it.
She blushed even redder, if that were possible. He grinned even wider.
"Kuon!" she said reproachfully. "It's not funny!"
"I never said it was!"
"Yayoi-san saw," she said sheepishly.
"And?"
"She winked at me! I don't understand! Why would she wink, Kuon!?"
Kuon looked at her adorable, earnest, blushing face and couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of him.
"Kuon!" she wailed.
"Mmmmhmm?" He crawled over to the other side of the table where she was and took her hand. With his other, he took the end of her scarf and slowly unwound it from her neck. He whistled when he saw it—a large, deep red spot on her neck where his mouth had been, quickly turning purple. He couldn't help giving it a gentle kiss, licking it while being careful not to apply any more pressure. He'd never been into hickeys before, either giving them or receiving them, but seeing the mark of his love on Kyoko might be giving him a new fetish.
He was gratified to hear Kyoko's soft intake of breath, feeling her body yield to his touch again. It made him stir. He knew they didn't have any more time this morning, but his body couldn't help reacting anyway.
"Kuon…" Kyoko was whispering, "we can't…"
He gave her a long kiss anyway, before pulling back and sighing. "No, we can't," he said. He gave her one of those pleading looks he specialized in. "I don't want to go."
"You have to."
"I don't want to."
"Acting is your life."
"You are my life."
"Playboy."
And then he was kissing her again, and they would have fallen onto the floor right then and there if the boat bearing Jelly Woods on the river hadn't blown its horn to alert the hotel staff of its arrival.
"Oh no…!" Kyoko stood up in a panic and was straightening her kimono collars, checking to see if her hems had slipped. Quickly she gathered up their dishes from breakfast and placed them on a tray, moving with such grace and efficiency Kuon was impressed all over again.
He was barely able to catch the end of that scarf to press a kiss on it before she was running out of his room with the cleared plates.
=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=
Ten was used to Darling's eccentricities. A camel in his office? A freshly-made igloo? Rodeo clowns? Carnival dancers, flying nuns, entire orchestras made of kazoos—you name it, she'd seen it. She was one of Lory's most trusted confidants for good reason, and it had been quite a few years now that she'd been transforming a certain blonde-haired, green-eyed boy into Japanese heartthrob Ren Tsuruga. She considered him one of her masterpieces, really, though of course it took his talent to really make the look live. Darling had asked her to strip Ren Tsuruga off of Kuon thoroughly earlier that summer, so it stood to reason that when he was done being 'Kuon,' she'd go and turn him back into Ren again. She hadn't batted an eye when Darling sent her to Kyoto. Knowing Darling, there was a good reason as to why Kuon was there.
She couldn't help but wonder, though, what that reason was. Ren was one of the busiest actors in show business, to take over a month and a half and sequester him away was unheard of. She supposed it might have something to do with Darling's frustration over his Katsuki role—though she hadn't thought the performance was that bad. Not bad enough for this strange exile—though perhaps not better than the original's.
The 'crew' had helped to load her transformation gear onto the boat and she watched with interest as they floated further away from Kyoto and into the green hills. She had thought of bringing her mobile studio, only to find that the inn was only accessible by boat. Being a resourceful woman, she'd managed to pack Ren's transformation gear into a large suitcase. She trusted they had sinks there that she could use to wash the excess dye off of the hair.
She was greeted by the ryokan's Taisho and was led to 'Hizuri-san's' room. Strange. All these years of hiding him and yet in one fell swoop, Darling had seen fit to check him into this ryokan under his real name.
Ten's eyes widened at the sight of him, sheepish and slightly embarrassed, taking in the rumpled bedclothes and the sight of a second chair askew in the room. The Kuon she found in his room did not resemble any other version of Kuon or Ren she'd ever met. He was frazzled, but he also looked like he was trying his damndest not to grin. His hair was in disarray, still wet from a shower. His shirt buttons were buttoned one button off, for heaven's sake! He looked…like a boy who'd been caught doing something naughty. And he looked like he wasn't sorry about it at all.
She narrowed her eyes and turned questioningly to Kuon, who was, to her amazement, turning a shade of pink.
"What exactly has Darling put you up to, young man?" she asked, putting a hand on her hip.
"I…uh…"
"Uh?"
Kuon opened and closed his mouth like a fish as Ten looked at him curiously. She brought the luggage around, beginning to unpack. "Ren, seriously, what exactly have you been up to here?"
"Well…looking over scripts, mostly…"
For an actor, he was doing a terrible job lying right now. It was like he wasn't even trying. He looked like a child, avoiding her eyes and scratching his head. She tilted her head, looking at him.
"Hewantedmetofindhappiness."
"Oh. Is that all? Hm." Sounded like classic Darling. Why did he look so guilty, then? Hrmph, she thought. I'll get Darling to explain later. "Alright, let's get started…"
=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=
Two and a half hours later, Kuon was staring at the stranger in the mirror, not knowing exactly what it was he was supposed to feel. Strange, really, how a mere few weeks in this place could make Ren Tsuruga a stranger again. Putting Ren on felt like wearing a lead suit, like putting a stiff pair of shoes back on his feet for the first time after spending weeks barefoot. It had never been this painful before, never so hard to paste on the veneer of politeness and professionalism that had been his life since coming to Japan years ago. If he was honest, he wanted to rip it all off and walk out of here as Kuon and not Ren. How odd, that. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd made peace with Rick while he was learning to love Kyoko—that, and the fact that Tina was now someone he texted on a regular basis. Forgiveness, redemption, love, fate: he felt like a copywriter putting together an ad campaign for his newest TV drama.
He smoothed his hair back from his forehead and cuffed his shirt sleeves. He was impeccably dressed again—Ten had brought him additional wardrobe items for his return into the real world. He hadn't quite realized it, but he'd stopped caring whether or not his clothes were perfectly ironed at some point over the summer. Dragonflies and frogs by the Corn Rock didn't care much, after all, if he looked like a fashion plate or not.
Kuon sighed.
Ren had been everything Kuon was not. Ren was a winner. Kuon, on the other hand, had been fired from more jobs than he could count AND had murdered his best friend. So when Lory had handed him off to Ten for the first time, Kuon had been grateful to shed his past life like a snakeskin. Ren was his ideal of a Perfect Actor—someone who was relentlessly dedicated to his craft, was never late, never had any discernible vices—a man who was neat, clean, respectful to women but never too intimate with them, mild mannered, elegant. Ren had done a lot for Kuon, but in the end, Lory was right: Ren was a paper doll. A safe vessel for a damaged boy who was as yet unable…and then later, unwilling, to come back out to face the world.
And it hadn't been until Lory forced Kuon back out into the open that he'd realized it. The man was a manipulative ass sometimes, but Kuon had to admit his methods—though unorthodox—were effective.
Even if this summer had brought him the unexpected, Kuon was still not ready to take Ren's place out there. His failure at Katsuki had proven that. Professionally, there was so much left to do before he could even consider giving Ren Tsuruga a proper send-off. And now, everything had changed. The things that had mattered to him before the summer now paled in comparison to a hazy, shining future with a certain girl who was, at this moment, somewhere else in the building.
He held onto that image. She would be the fuel he needed to find that shining future. He closed his eyes, letting the contacts settle back into place.
"Ren-kun?" Ten asked. "Are you OK?"
"Of course, Woods-san," he replied. Inwardly he was wincing. He knew they were running late—Yashiro would be here with his car soon, and then it would be time to head to the Ring Doh 2 production headquarters.
"You've changed," she said. "I don't think I've seen so much of Kuon since Lory first brought you over."
He nodded.
Ten couldn't figure out whether he was unwilling or unable to say anything more and let the matter drop as she finished packing up her gear. Ren was good-natured enough, but he was tight-lipped. He was the kind of client that never said anything much, letting her go about her work uninterrupted. Something had clearly happened to him here, something important. She hadn't been able to put her finger on it when she'd first arrived, but now that she'd had time to watch him, she'd figured it out: he was bubbling over like a pot left too long on the stove. But out of the corner of her eye she watched Kuon disappear further into Ren. It started with the appearance first, of course, the dark hair and eyes. And then the clothes. But by the time he got around to changing his posture, the transformation was complete.
Kuon was gone, and Ren stood in his place.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a polite knocking on the door.
"Ah, it must be the staff," Ten mused. She'd asked for a broom and a dustpan, having given Kuon a haircut slightly earlier.
Ten opened the door to reveal a nakai holding a broom. "Woods-san," Kyoko said in her Okami voice, "You requested a dropcloth, broom, and dustpan?"
"Oh, yes, thank you," said Ten. She'd needed to trim Kuon's hair, which had gotten slightly longer since its last cut, and her minimalist setup did not allow her to bring her own cleaning implements.
"I've also brought you both bento lunches to-go, as I understand Tsuruga-san will be unable to stay for lunch," the girl added.
How considerate, she thought. Ten knew Ren was notorious for skipping meals, and it seemed as if Darling had warned the hotel of that and asked them to take countermeasures. She took the cleaning implements and the bentos from the girl, who gave her a perfect bow. Had that been all, she would have simply thought of the ryokan's staff as being particularly attentive and good with detail, but then she noticed the look on Kuon's face.
Apparently Ren Tsuruga's hold on him had been fairly shallow, because the boy was staring at the girl, who was still bowing. Staring and blushing, with a very un-Ren-like intensity coupled with a smile so tender that it made Ten uncomfortable. Not even Ren's approximation of Katsuki-in-love had been anywhere near that intense. Ten whirled around to watch the girl and was in place when she began to rise from her bow. She did not miss the moment their eyes met and a zap! of electricity flew between them. But Ten saw the kimono-clad girl avert her eyes quickly, schooling her face into calm placidity. Ren, on the other hand, looked as if he'd been struck by a thunderbolt. If Ten hadn't just seen it with her own two eyes, she would have sworn the girl hadn't even noticed Ren Tsuruga standing there gawping like a gutted fish.
Suddenly, it all made sense. Darling always had a strange sixth sense for these things, and while she didn't exactly know the story behind these two, she had a feeling that Darling did.
"Thank you, Miss…" she said.
"Mogami Kyoko, Woods-san," the girl said.
"Mogami-san, then," Ten smiled. "I'm glad you brought the lunches. Tsuruga here won't eat unless you make him."
"You are welcome, Woods-san," Kyoko replied formally. "Takarada-sama left us strict instructions. He told us about Hizuri-san's lack of appetite. We've tried to ensure he ate well while he was here."
"Thank you for taking care of him. Darli—Takarada-san—will be pleased."
"It was no trouble at all. We try to ensure all our guests enjoy their stay here."
Kuon heard Kyoko's words and flinched. He and Kyoko had talked about this day, of course. How he'd turn back into Ren Tsuruga. How they'd manage his transition back into the 'real world,' as he called it. How they needed to be strangers to each other until they could manage the onslaught of publicity that would inevitably follow if the public found out that Ren was dating—and dating a seventeen-year-old, no less. And now here she was, acting just as they'd discussed. Acting as if he were just another guest at the ryokan. Her face was amiable but impassive, closed like a hardened jewel. She'd learned his lessons too well—there were no chinks in her armor, no indication that he was more to her than just another customer. It upset him—made him feel—if only for a minute—that perhaps she truly didn't care.
He hated pretending she wasn't important to him.
"Um…Woods-san," Kuon said, on impulse. "Please, she's—"
Ten heard a sharp intake of breath from the girl, whose placid reserve was brushed away in a cloud of sudden panic. "Wait, Kuon, no—" the girl exclaimed.
"—my girlfriend."
Ten heard the girl give a horrified gasp and then looked closer at her. Kyoko was a slender slip of a girl, long black hair, and big eyes the color of golden amber…and utterly terrified. Kyoko looked like she was about to run and hide. The girl was blushing a bright beet red. She was sure Kyoko was going to flee like a tiny, trembling rodent of some kind.
Ten blinked. Where was the calm, serene Okami-san that had just been there?
Instead, she watched as Kuon reached out and dragged her back into the room with an incandescent smile.
Ten had seen many of Ren's smiles, but never that specific one. It had quite a bit more wattage than all the smiles he normally gave out.
"I figured there wouldn't be a point in not telling you, Woods-san," he said. Ten was transfixed. Who was this boy? Who knew Ren Tsuruga could make such an expression? "Lory knows, too."
The girl was a shade of tomato-red and bowed to her even deeper than before. "Hajimemashite, Woods-san," she said.
"Just Ten, Kyoko-chan—may I call you Kyoko-chan?" she replied. "Only Ren is enough of a stick-in-the-mud to insist on calling me 'Woods-san.'"
"Hai, Ten-san," the girl replied. Ten couldn't help but notice the scarf around her neck, and looked at Kuon with some reproach. She was hoping the girl wasn't wearing a scarf in August because of something Kuon had done to her.
He cleared his throat. "I hope you'll forgive me for asking this, Woods-san," he said, "but I trust you…and um…we have a small problem." He tugged at Kyoko's scarf to reveal the kiss-mark on her neck.
The girl squeaked and tried to grab her scarf back.
Ten turned to give him a look.
"And here you had us all thinking you were a gentleman, Ren," she said. "Very well. Let's get started. Both of you, come here," she sighed.
She took a look at the girl's neck to note her foundation color and took out some concealer.
A makeup genius's work was never done.
=.=.=.=.=.=
Kyoko stood by as Ten-san clambered onto the boat, thanking her profusely and helping the crew load the large suitcase she'd brought with Ren's transformation gear. The woman was saying hello to a nice-looking gentleman with glasses that Kyoko supposed was Yashiro-san, Ren's manager. The man had declined to come into the ryokan, telling them that he was content to remain on the boat while simply waiting for Ren to arrive. Kyoko merely nodded.
She wasn't quite over the intense mortification of Kuon revealing who she was to Ten. She'd thought that they would pretend they were nothing more than Okami-san and guest, but he'd shifted things on her. He certainly hadn't been acting like Ren when he'd dragged her to Ten-san for her 'lesson' in concealment—he'd been Kuon, her Kuon. The tiny woman had taken Kyoko in-hand, ensuring she knew how to cover up the sizable bruise Kuon had left on her neck. "Be sure you color-correct with the right concealer, Kyoko-chan," she'd said as she parted from her, "It'll change as the bruise develops." Ten insisted on giving the girl the products she'd need, and Kyoko had been grateful. She didn't want to walk around with the bruise so brazenly displayed—what kind of establishment would the other guests think they were? She figured she'd show Yayoi-san the techniques Ten had taught her, too…awkward as it was to be sharing the same affliction as the Okami-san.
It wasn't long before she spotted him walking towards her on the landing, a real-life R. Mandy ad, complete with the button strategically unbuttoned just so on his shirt. This was not her Kuon. Of that there was no doubt. This was Ren Tsuruga in the flesh, pressed, coiffed, straightened and shiny as a newly minted coin. He didn't even walk the same way Kuon did. Kyoko decided she wouldn't even be surprised if his breathing was different. Ren looked older, felt older, acted older than Kuon.
Kyoko bowed as he got to the landing. His behavior with Ten had surprised her so much she'd fallen out of the Okami-san character she'd consciously perfected for dealing with Ren Tsuruga. She wouldn't make the same mistake again. When she rose upwards, she kept her eyes downcast and her back perfectly straight. "Itterashai, Tsuruga-san," she said. "Will you be dining with us this evening?"
"I'm afraid not, Mogami-san," he said, and the way he said her name made her tremble. The timbre of Ren Tsuruga's voice was different, low and deep and seductive like the growl from a sleek predator. Still, he betrayed no shred of Kuon as he spoke to her. "Our meetings with the director and the rest of the cast will likely last until the evening."
"Very well, Tsuruga-san," she replied. "We will anticipate your arrival later this evening, then."
She watched him board the boat, and, before her nerve failed her, turned and walked back into the ryokan. Her mind was in a maze of self-consciousness and anxiety. How could a girl like her date a man like that? Kuon was one thing—she knew who he was. But she hadn't expected how his very presence would differ, as if a different soul was inhabiting him. Would he return to being her Kuon when they were in private? Would she even be able to see him later that night?
=.=.=.=.=
Kuon watched Kyoko's retreating back as the crew finished their preparations for the slow ride back to Kyoto.
"So this is where you've been hiding," Yashiro said. He was watching Ren closely. Something was different…he couldn't quite put his finger on it…what was it…?
"Yes." Kuon was still watching Kyoko as her figure got smaller and finally disappeared into the ryokan.
"Hrmph," Yashiro said, pushing his glasses up. "You disappear for a month and a half and all you can tell your devoted manager is 'Yes'? I'm disappointed in you, Ren."
Kuon didn't answer. Something about the way he'd parted from Kyoko on the dock bothered him. She was too much the Okami-san, he was too much Ren, and he hated not saying goodbye to her properly. He hated the way he acted as if she were a stranger. Ten knew his secret, Yashiro didn't, but Yashiro would still have to know about Kyoko. Why bother hiding it from him, then? What did it matter if he knew?
The boat had finished its preparations and was pulling away from the dock slowly.
He felt that red cord between them pull taught and felt her on the other end, and everything in him was telling him that he needed to kiss her goodbye.
The boat was a foot away from the dock.
This was the true end of his time as Kuon. It would be wrong not to say goodbye properly.
Three feet away.
He didn't stop to think much after that. He knew he could jump the distance, so he did.
"Sorry! I forgot something!" he yelled out to Yashiro. He grinned and then turned away before he noticed Yashiro's jaw drop.
He ran back into the ryokan as quickly as his legs could carry him, finding Kyoko tidying up the front coatroom.
"Tsuruga-san!" she said, surprise evident on her face.
Was she so good at acting she'd call him Tsuruga even when he'd surprised her? He shut the door quickly and then pinned her to the wall.
She gasped as kissed her desperately.
"Kyoko, love…I'm still here," he said, "I'm…still…here…I'm…still…here!" He punctuated each word with a kiss.
"Kuon," she said, dazed, "you…you've got to make it to your set…people are waiting…!" She was saying the words but her lips still hovered near his and her eyes were glazed.
He kissed her again, hard. "I couldn't leave you like that."
"Like what?"
"As if we were strangers to each other."
"Kyoko Mogami and Ren Tsuruga are strangers to each other, Kuon."
"Never." He wasn't going to let her up for air if he could help it. "Kyoko Mogami is Ren Tsuruga's girlfriend." Her hands had come around his neck, his arms were around her and the gnawing pull that had bothered him since she'd left his bed that morning stopped as he pressed himself against her. "My girlfriend."
"You said we'd wait to tell people…"
"Ren Tsuruga doesn't want to. I don't either. We'll talk about it later…" He was smiling into his kisses, and even though his eyes were brown, she melted into him anyway. Kyoko gave herself up to the feel of him, letting him press her against the wall as his hands began to wander. She had no doubt in her mind as to who she was kissing. He only looked like Ren, but he was her Kuon. She whimpered. The kimono she was wearing parted under his questing hand. His other hand reached to lift her leg to hook it around his waist. He was making his way past her nagajuban and then her hadajuban and then all the way up to her panties. She blushed, knowing she was wet for him. Just from kisses stolen in the coatroom, just from the way he held her, she was wet for him. He groaned as he felt the evidence of her desire as he entered her first with a single finger and then a second.
She cried out at the intrusion, but her hips rocked towards him. "Shhhhh," he whispered, "They'll hear us." The door to the coatroom was closed, but they were still within earshot of an errant guest or passersby.
She moved a hand to her mouth, stifling the moans that came unbidden. He was thrusting into her with those long fingers of his, pushing right at the spot that made her go insane. His thumb was pressed against her clit.
"Nah uh," he said, grabbing at the hand she was using to cover her mouth. She bit back a gasp as he continued the inexorable rhythm of his fingers. "Mark me, Kyoko," he whispered, kissing her neck, gently demonstrating what he wanted her to do without ruining Ten's careful work. He breathed in her scent, augmented by the smell of Ten's concealer.
"They'll…see…" she gasped. How was she expected to have a coherent conversation like this?
"That's the point," he said. "I want everyone to see."
His fingers continued, driving her insane. She was trying to keep the sound of her moaning quiet and was finding little success. A garbled moan escaped her mouth and she was mortified enough to do what he wanted, imitating what he'd been doing to her and sucking the flesh of his neck hard to keep herself from crying out.
"Fuck," she heard him say into the air. He was groaning as she kept herself from screaming but his fingers weren't stopping, and she had to stop him, she had to, she couldn't hold it together anymore—
He held her close and steady as her orgasm washed over her and her pussy clenched tight onto his fingers.
Reluctantly, he removed his fingers from her, staring at her flushed face as he lewdly licked her wetness off of them.
"You…you…playboy…!" Kyoko said, staring at him. He was so shameless! WANTON! PERVERTED! "You…I…Look what..." Her kimono had been thoroughly dismantled, her collars askew, the bottom half needing to be tucked back into the obi.
"I'm not sorry," he said, grinning at her. "I love the way you taste." He kissed her once more, softly, for good measure. "And I love you."
She had been so preoccupied with staying upright she hadn't even had a chance to notice how hard he still was, and when he brushed against her leg she gasped. "Kuon—! I…" She reached for his hard length, caressing it through his pants with the palm of her hand as he breathed out sharply.
"No, love," he said, taking her hand into his, instead. "Ignore it. I'll get it under control. I need to go. I just…wanted to say goodbye properly."
She hummed sadly.
"They're waiting for me on the boat," he said. "I'll be back this evening. You can owe me 'til then."
Quietly and quickly he helped her fix her kimono, and when she looked proper again, he kissed her once on her forehead, once on each hand, and one last time on the lips.
"Itterashai, Kuon," she said, "I love you."
He gave her the heavenly smile again. "I love you too."
He walked away and onto the boat, conscious of an ache on his neck where her mouth had been.
The outside world was waiting.
=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=
Author's Notes: Hiiiiiiii! Thank you for reading! I always appreciate reviews, so please let me know what you think. Yes, there is more lemon. I hope you do not mind that it was there.
I wanted to take this opportunity to thank the Guest(s) that have left reviews-I try to thank everyone that comments via PM but I can't send you PMs so I'll just thank you here instead. I hear ya on the little photographer interlude on the last chapter, but I do promise it's going somewhere.
1. 'Gentle breath' - The Tempest, Epilogue (Prospero) This is part of the Epilogue Prospero gives as he leaves the island that was his exile.
2. 'It was the nightingale' - Romeo and Juliet, lines adapted from Act 3, Scene 5. In this scene, Romeo and Juliet have spent their first night together as a wedded couple (and have presumably banged), but Romeo has to leave early in the morning because he's been banished and the Capulets are out to get him. So Juliet goes "it was the nightingale!" (a night bird) bc she doesn't want him to leave yet and Romeo goes "Nah, it was the lark!" (a morning bird) because his ass knows it's morning and he DOES have to leave.
3. Hadajuban/Nagajuban - kimono undergarments.