A/N: Alright, so, sorry it's been so long. I feel bad because as I've said before my AO3 is like two chapters ahead. I've been struggling with chapter 14 but it's been a while, and I didn't even realize how LONG until I saw a guest review about it and did the math. So here it is.

CONTENT WARNING: This is a smut chapter. This is the first smut I've ever written and still the only smut until I hit the next smut chapter. Just like I told everyone on AO3, it's smut but I'm not promising it's GOOD smut. If you have any opinions or critiques, feel free to offer them, just don't be mean. I do this for fun, and again, first attempt at it.


Chapter Twelve: Promises and Trust

2015 – Summer

"You're never driving again."

"It's my car."

"You almost killed us."

"I did not, you are being dramatic."

"Matsuda, you ran three red lights."

Natsumi rolled her eyes as she unlocked the door, "They were basically yellow, it was fine."

"Yellow means slow down, not speed up," Getou argued from behind her as they stepped into the entryway.

She slipped out of her socks and shoes and turned to take the plastic bags from him, "No way, then you get stuck at the red light."

"I never realized you were so impatient," he handed her the bags, eyes narrowed at her in disapproval. "Who taught you how to drive?"

Natsumi's smile faltered, her hands stilling ever so slightly before she took the bags from him, careful not to let their hands touch, "My brother, mostly, and then… Kazumi, a little."

Getou glanced at her hands, it had only been a slight hesitation, but he'd noticed. "I see."

She turned quickly, walking out of the small entryway into the living area, and paused, unsure what exactly to do. Natsumi didn't bring people over. Gojou had only been allowed over because of the kids and Hana had just shown up (she never did find out how she knew where she lived). She didn't really care much what Gojou thought of her home and Hana was too kind to judge, but now… It was almost like seeing her home for the first time, eyes darting around for anything out of place, not that she would be able to fix it now.

The house had a mostly open floor plan, the living room straight ahead of the entryway, and the dining room tucked into the far-left corner of the room. The kitchen was to the left of the entryway, separated by a wall and directly across from the dining room. The dining room was only really used when all the kids were over, and even then, they tended to go out for dinner.

For the most part, Natsumi ate at either the coffee table in the living room or the small kitchen table but now wasn't sure what to do, she hadn't thought this far ahead. Should they eat in the living room? Or the kitchen? The dining table seemed so formal and she didn't know what was appropriate, what was the right decision. And it was a terrible idea, Getou shouldn't even be here, what was she thinking? Letting him come over? Practically inviting him over.

"What are you doing?"

Natsumi turned around to see Getou staring at her. He was watching her stand there, head tilted with his lips pulled into a half smile. "I don't know what to do," she explained.

Getou looked away from her and walked into the living room, standing behind the couch while he surveyed her home. It was so odd to see him standing there in her home, wearing clothes that actually fit him instead of the loose clothing he usually wore. His gaze drifted around the walls, the family photos, and the occasional painting that her mother had hung up. Natsumi hadn't removed them when they moved in, she told herself it was because the walls would be barren without the photos and the paintings.

"What do you usually do?"

"Uh, I watch the news," she said, choosing to leave the part out where she drank and watched the news until she passed out.

"The news?" he sounded surprised as he walked around the couch, standing in front of one of the bookshelves on either side of the TV. "I thought you were going to watch movies?"

"Well… that's what I was going to do if Hana came, but it's not what I usually do. I don't really watch movies by myself," she answered and stepped to the coffee table, setting the plastic bags down carefully.

Getou continued his inspection of the shelves, looking through the collection of movies, "Then why do you have so many?"

"Oh, most of those belong to Sumiko's cousin. Gojou used to bring them over so often it just got easier to leave some here," she explained and sat on the couch, trying not to squirm. It was… it was almost too normal, talking to him in her living room.

"What about the CDs?"

"Those are pretty much all mine, I leave some out here and keep the rest of them in my room."

Getou stepped back from the bookshelf, eyeing the expansive collection. "There's more? That seems… excessive."

"Yeah well, I've been collecting them my whole life. I sort of… obsess over things." Natsumi stood, trying not to think of the copy of his file hidden away in her bedroom as she walked to the kitchen. Tried not to think about the way she had obsessed over it, which was ironic since she'd accused him of stalking not that long ago.

She searched through the fridge, not that there was much in there but hopefully he wouldn't go digging through the kitchen the way Gojou had. It wasn't much better to let him look at the bookshelf with the photos and family albums, but she had let Hana look. She'd even gone through some of the less painful albums with her and if it kept him from talking about the night with Kazumi, then she could deal with it. He couldn't possibly be that interested in it anyway, photo albums full of non-sorcerers he would despise.

"Hey, so what do you drink?" she shouted and waited for a response or for the soft fall of footsteps, but there was nothing. Natsumi closed the door to the fridge and peeked out at the living room, sticking her head around the wall that separated the kitchen and the entryway. "Getou-san?"

His back was completely rigid as he stood too straight, staring at something he held in his hands. Her stomach dropped, remembering the way he had stood frozen like that while he had touched her, the way he had pulled away and left. It wouldn't hurt as much if he left now before he stayed too long (she hoped). It would probably be better if he left, he shouldn't be here anyway, it was wrong.

Wrong to have him in her house for all of the obvious dangerous reasons, but also because he meant something to Gojou, and he was in her house. Standing in the room that Gojou slept in when he spent the night. The room where she tucked him in and they talked about their shared pain. The room where they talked about her running away from home and she tried to convince Gojou it wasn't his fault his friend left.

Natsumi stepped out from behind the wall and walked into the living room, still far enough away that she was out of arms reach if Getou turned around. "Getou-san? Are you… okay?" It was a stupid question, but she didn't know what else to do with him frozen in her living room the way he was.

She watched him turn and told herself she did not watch the way his muscles moved under his shirt (of all the days to wear a shirt that fit why did it have to be today?). Getou was holding a picture frame in his hands, gripping it tightly and when he looked at her there was an odd sort of look on his face. He tilted his head, the way he always did when he seemed confused by her, and the amused expression was gone. His eyes were wide, and his lips were slightly parted as he held out the photo.

"Matsuda-sensei."

Natsumi blinked at him, barely comprehending what she was seeing. It was a picture of her brother and Aiko from their wedding, with bright smiles on their faces. Was that all it was? He saw a picture of Aiko? It seemed so simple, and yet the way he was looking at her with that intensity said it wasn't. He looked at her as if he was in awe. Gojou had said he didn't know her that well, and what little he told her he knew, didn't garner this reaction.

"Uh… yeah. I forgot you would have known her," she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Gojou said that Yaga mostly taught you guys, and he barely knew her. I figured it was the same for you."

"This… this is Sumiko's mother? Matsuda-sensei?"

"Yeah?"

He looked down at the photo again, his brows furrowed, "Matsuda-sensei's husband was your brother."

"You knew Ichiro?" she blurted.

"No," he looked up at her, still with that look of awe. "I saw him, a few times and I knew who he was. He would… he would come by sometimes on the weekend. Bring her lunch, and… and he would bring their daughter."

"Gojou never told me any of that."

Getou shook his head, glancing down at the photo and back to Natsumi, that same expression of awe on his face. "He wouldn't have known about it. I only saw them… after… after…" he rubbed idly at his chest, a mannerism she'd never seen on him before. "Satoru and I were sent on missions separately, and I was alone frequently. Did… Did he tell you about Haibara or Nanami?"

"He said that… Nanami stopped being a sorcerer and Haibara died," Natsumi whispered.

He clenched the frame tightly and turned back around, setting it on the shelf. "Yes, well… Matsuda-sensei was more Haibara and Nanami's teacher. I spent a lot more time with Haibara since Satoru and I were at the school at odd times."

"So, you were around Aiko more often," she filled in the blanks, but it still didn't quite explain the reaction he had.

He nodded and turned around, a faraway look on his face. "I heard that she was from the Zen'in clan, but she had left so many years before we met her, I didn't think anything of it when you said your niece was a Zen'in. Matsuda is such a common name, I didn't… it didn't occur to me."

She eyed him while he walked towards her, he wasn't standing as straight as he was before, the tension in his shoulders seeming to fade away. She wasn't sure exactly what his reaction was about, but the sudden interest in her relation to Aiko… it felt a little too familiar. Even if she didn't really think he meant it that way, not fully, but… it rubbed her the wrong way.

"She's not a Zen'in, she's a Matsuda."

His shoulders shook as he laughed, and it wasn't that bitter cold thing or the way he laughed when he teased her. It was warm. It was the only way she could think to describe it and the smile on his face reminded her a little bit of the boy in the photo from when he was young.

"You're so interesting, Matsuda," he teased, that smile still on his face.

Interesting because of her proximity to a life he used to have.

Natsumi turned around and walked back into the kitchen, opening and closing drawers to look for utensils. They had been in the same drawer for years, but her brain felt empty, unable to register anything she was looking at. The drawers may as well have been empty for all that she could register the contents.

"You're upset again." His voice was too close and when she turned her head, he was standing at the end of the counter watching her.

"No, I'm not," she replied, and she hated the way she sounded as she closed the last drawer. Angry and bitter, and it was so pathetic because it wasn't anything she didn't know already.

"You don't like it when I call you interesting," he spoke slowly.

Natsumi snorted, "Because you don't think I'm interesting. You never have. You've told me to my face you don't like me and – it doesn't even matter."

"It does matter," he insisted, taking a step closer. Natsumi took a step away as he did, and he shook his head in response. "I didn't know you then, I was wrong."

"You only think that because now you know that I've known this whole time," she argued, frustration coloring her tone. "It's all the coincidences and proximity that you find interesting. It's… it's Gojou and my niece and Aiko, but it's not me."

"That's not true."

She took another step back, wanting more distance between them but he took another step forward. It backfired, there was even less distance than there had been before. There was still space, she was still out of arm's reach. "Look, it's fine. I knew you couldn't stand me, and I talked to you anyway and I kept talking to you even after knowing everything else," she waved her hand around, trying to dismiss the conversation.

"That's true to a point," he admitted, and she looked away from him. "I made assumptions, but they were… they were wrong. I wasn't seeing you clearly before, I wasn't paying attention. It's… it's different now," he sounded almost soft and closer, far too close and she backed away until her back hit the wall. "It doesn't matter what I say, does it?"

Natsumi shrugged, eyes fixated on a spot on the fridge as she leaned back against the wall. "Not really, but it's not like… it's not like I didn't know all of that when I… invited you."

"Then why did you? If that's what you think, then why not… I would have left you alone if that's what you wanted."

"Because I always thought you were interesting," she admitted, because really what was the harm at this point? It's not like he didn't know after she'd kissed him, after all the conversations she initiated with him. "I thought you were interesting, and I always knew I was bothering you but if you were going to let me bother you then… then I didn't see the harm. Then I thought… I thought maybe you didn't mind it so much, but I always knew you were laughing at me. I was just okay with it, for the most part."

Natsumi looked at him, at the bewildered expression on his face and the intensity that he was staring at her. The heat spread across her skin, the way it always did when she looked him in the eyes. She'd been trying not to look into his eyes for too long to avoid this feeling, but now especially because she knew that feeling meant she was blushing. That if Hana had been able to see it then he certainly could, and it was embarrassing and ridiculous and –

Getou crossed that last bit of distance, standing so close but not touching her, bracing his hands on either side of her. Without the heels, she was just short enough that if she stared straight, she was looking at his collarbone and not his face. There was still enough room between them that if she wanted to, really wanted to, she could duck under his arm and walk around him.

She already knew she wouldn't be the one to pull away.

"Maybe those things were true, in the beginning. I thought…" he hesitated, trying to search for the right words. He lowered himself slightly, dipping his head down so she was forced to look him in the face. "My thoughts weren't kind, but that wasn't about you specifically. It was… you know why," he lowered his voice, "but that was… that was changing even before the other night. I couldn't admit it, but it was changing before the night you came looking for me."

"Why?"

"I'll only tell you if you promise to believe me," he said the words softly, and the look in his eyes was… still intense but so soft. On anyone else, she would call it pleading.

"Okay," she croaked, and she wasn't sure if it was a lie or not. She wanted it to be true, she wanted to believe him. "I promise."

"Then I promise you that I'm not lying," he said. "You say things, little things that shouldn't matter and that you couldn't have known would matter. Things I ignored, initially," he paused, searching her eyes the way he had done a few times before. Always looking for something but she was never sure what. "Do you remember the first time we met?"

"Of course."

"Do you remember the things you said? To the girls?"

"Not… really. I don't have a great memory for things like that." Not unless it was about the man she was obsessed with, because she'd memorized so much of that file that she might be able to recite it to him.

His lips pulled into that half smile, "Fair enough. You told them… I don't remember the exact words, but it was something along the lines of not blaming themselves for things that weren't their fault. It was… it was the only reason I sat down. I was on the verge of carrying them out if I had to, but you said that, and I thought… I thought it was something they should hear from someone besides me."

"Because of your…" she hesitated because if he had a bad reaction, he was so close, too close and she never fully knew how he was going to react.

The corner of his lips turned downwards, and he dropped his arms from where they were, no longer caging her in. "Mimiko blames herself, often, for my parents and the things I say don't seem to help, but that's not the only thing. When I found them in the village they were mistreated. The villagers were blaming them for the cursed spirit, and they asked me to –" he cut himself off and looked away from her.

"For a long time," he continued, "the girls thought what happened to them was their fault. Nanako was angry and Mimiko was… depressed and they were too young," just like he and his friends had been too young for all that they had been through. Too young and the girls had been younger. "I don't know for sure if you saying those things to them helped, but I like to think that it did. I hope that it did."

"If that's the only –"

"It wasn't the only thing," he snapped, turning his heated gaze back on her. "It was that you did something when no one else would, even if I couldn't appreciate it at the time. It was being concerned for Mimiko and not… not being afraid of her. It was you educating me on tampons," the heat was replaced by a spark of amusement, and she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. It had been an awkward conversation, and she could still remember the slightest tinge of pink that had been on his face. "It's the way you teased me, insulted me, even after you had accused me of being a murderer." And she knew he meant the first time he had ever offered her a lighter, the night she'd learned who he was.

"That last one is just me being stupid," she argued, not bothering to mention that he was a murderer. That she had been right even before she knew the truth.

"You aren't stupid. You're reckless," he admitted, "but you're also… very brave."

Natsumi looked down, "I wouldn't call it brave."

Getou stepped close again, caging her in again with his hands pressed against the wall on either side of her. "You thought I was going to kill you and you chased me down anyway. You asked Mimiko and you had to know that even if she didn't tell you where I was, that she would tell me that you asked."

"That wasn't brave," she whispered, the shame settling in her skin, remembering the way she had involved her. It was worse now, knowing a piece of what she had been through.

"It was," he said fiercely, and he dropped his hands but didn't step away. "You didn't even seem afraid when you found me, not even when I… You didn't even flinch."

"Of course, I was afraid," her eyes filled with tears and she lifted her gaze from the floor, looking at him harshly. "That's not the first time a man has choked me, but it's going to be the last. That's never going to happen again. If you ever…" her voice cracked, because what could she do, really?

"I'm sorry. I didn't… I shouldn't have done that. I won't do it again," his eyes were pleading again as he spoke, his voice thick, "I was… I was raised better than that Matsuda."

Natsumi leaned her head back against the wall staring at the age spots on the ceiling as her heart pounded in her chest. She remembered the look of disgust on his face after he'd let her go that night, and she'd always assumed it was because he had touched her. "It makes me really stupid to trust you," she whispered, trying to blink away the tears that had formed, "but I do, even if it ends up being a mistake."

"I have to trust you too," he leaned forward, putting his lips next to her ear and she could feel his cool breath fanning against her ear. "No one else knows about my parents, just the girls. Even… even the rest of our family doesn't know that I didn't do it. They think I'm just… very dedicated." He didn't need to say what he was dedicated to, because they both already knew, and it should matter but it didn't. "I trust… I trust you not to tell him, and I trust you not to call him and tell him I'm here."

"I wouldn't do that to him, that's just… that's cruel," she said quietly, and she was so grateful Getou didn't say his name because she did not think she could take that now. Not with him so close to her, so close she could almost feel the rise and fall of his chest.

"No, you don't seem the type," he echoed her words from the other night, his lips so close they grazed her ear, and it sent a shiver through her. "I think that makes us as… even as we can be. You have to trust I won't hurt you and I have to trust that you won't involve him."

"Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated, his eyes searching hers. "Does that mean you're done being upset with me?"

"I think so."

"Then I have a secret for you, Matsuda," he hummed, ghosting his lips down the length of her neck and back to her ear. "Your friend is very bad at whispering."

Her breath hitched and she swore her heart was going to beat straight out of her chest, she could feel the heat in her face intensify and spread across her skin. Even if she could think of a response or an explanation of some kind that would alleviate the embarrassment, she wasn't sure she could even speak.

Getou pulled his lips away, looking at her directly in the face for a moment and she couldn't look away fast enough. She saw the way his eyes sparked and the way his lips quirked, and despite all he had said she still felt like she was being laughed at.

"I have another secret," he leaned in close to her other ear. "You're very pretty when you blush," he kissed along her jaw, leaving a cool trail that had her stomach fluttering.

"You called me decent."

"I lied," he pressed his lips roughly against hers, none of the tentativeness from the other night.

Natsumi let her eyes slip closed and lifted her hands to touch him, to feel him underneath her fingertips but she remembered the way he had pulled away. His tongue traced her bottom lip, and she parted her lips, and he pressed himself against her, her hands trapped between them. She fisted her hands in his shirt, so afraid if she made one wrong move he would leave.

Getou didn't have the same problem, one hand slipping into her hair and the other sliding along her waist. He tugged at her hair gently, angling her so that he could kiss along her jaw and down her neck. He kissed along her neck until he found the spot that made her let out a small gasp. He grazed his teeth against the spot, nipping gently and she felt his lips pull into a smile when she tilted her head away, exposing more of her neck.

He teased that same spot until she was clenching her fists so tightly in his shirt that her knuckles ached. Getou kissed lower, licking and sucking the skin that the collar of her shirt left exposed. He was barely touching her, his lips doing most of the work as his chest pressed against hers. The only sound between them was her harsh breathing as he kissed along her collarbone.

Her heart stuttered when his lips stilled against her, and she kept her eyes shut tightly. She knew it. She fucking knew it. He was going to pull away and leave and it was going to be worse than it had been before.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," she gasped out, opening her eyes. He was looking down between them, where her hands were fisted tightly in his shirt. "Last time, when I touched you" she sounded breathy as she tried to explain, "you left."

"I told you, that wasn't about you." His hand slid out of her hair and he grabbed each of her hands in his, trying to ease them out of the tight grip she had. "You can touch me," he said, and he pressed her palms against his chest, "I want you to touch me."

"You won't leave?"

"Only if you ask me to," his lips hovered over hers. "Do you want me to leave?"

She pressed her hands firmly against his chest and slid them up until she had her hands in his hair, "No."

Getou let her pull him to her, kissing her with an almost bruising intensity as he pressed his hips firmly against hers. She could feel him pressed against her, a cool hand stroking the outside of her thigh at the edge of her skirt leaving a trail of goosebumps everywhere he touched. It made her feel almost dizzy, the way his fingers flitted at the edge of her skirt.

Natsumi dropped her hands from his hair to slide under his shirt, feeling the muscles twitch under her hands. He pulled away slightly, lifting his shirt over his head and discarding it to the side. She caught only a glimpse before his lips crashed against hers again, but she realized why he'd pulled away that night, why he had rubbed his chest the way he had before.

Getou had a large scar across his chest, starting where his chest met his shoulders and crossing to his ribs, forming a giant 'x' in the middle of his chest. It must have been how he almost died before he'd left and done the unthinkable. Forced to face the trauma of it every time he took off his shirt, forced to face that he had almost died before he was old enough to really live.

She trailed her fingertips along his skin, dancing around the scar because she still wasn't sure, didn't trust that he would stay. He grasped her thigh and hiked her leg on his hip, pressing his leg between her thighs as he kissed her.

Natsumi broke the kiss to press her lips to the underside of his jaw, kissing down his neck. He slid his fingers in her hair, encouraging the path she was kissing as he slid his hand further up her thigh. She could feel his pulse thrumming under her lips and bit the spot gently, the hand around her thigh gripping her tighter as she did.

"Bedroom," he gasped out roughly when she sucked at that same spot. "Where?"

"Down the hall," she mumbled against his skin, "last door on the right."

The hand still in her hair dropped to grab her other thigh and she slid her hands behind his neck. She wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her, locking her ankles behind his back. It wasn't long before he was pressing her against the door of her bedroom, his cool lips kissing any bit of exposed skin.

Getou set her down gently, turning the knob and backing her into the room. His hands were on her hips, steering her towards the bed, "You can still ask."

"Ask what?" she whispered out, hands still locked behind his neck.

"For me to leave."

Natsumi wound her hands in his hair and pulled his lips down to hers, didn't he realize this was what she'd been wanting for so long? She just never thought she would get to have it, to have him. Never thought that he might want her too.

His hands left her hips, deft fingers unbuttoning her shirt as the back of her legs hit the bed. She let go of the hold she had in his hair, unzipping her skirt and letting it slide down her legs.

"So impatient," he mumbled against her lips, undoing the last button on her shirt, and shoving it off her shoulders. Getou kissed the newly exposed skin, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra as soon as her shirt was gone. He wasn't any more patient than she was.

Her eyes fluttered closed as the bra joined the rest of her clothes on the floor, his hands caressing her skin. She reached for the button of his jeans, but he grabbed her wrists, mumbling something against her shoulder that she didn't quite catch. He leaned forward against her until she was falling backward, letting go of her wrists so that she fell back onto the bed in a heap.

"You're a dick," she glared up at him, though she doubted it would do any good even if she wasn't dressed only in her underwear.

"I told you to lay down," he teased.

"I didn't hear you."

Getou joined her on the bed, kneeling between her thighs, "You have very poor listening skills."

He looked down at her, running his hand up her thigh and his hand stilled. She watched the way his jaw clenched, and she stopped breathing, trying so hard not to panic. His eyes were narrowed, and his muscles tensed slightly but the hand on her thigh wasn't hurting her. She followed his line of sight, but she didn't see anything obvious. Was it her? Did he change his mind?

Oh.

Natsumi breathed a sigh of relief, he was staring at the purple finger-shaped bruises on her hip only half hidden by her underwear. The bruises that Kazumi left on her.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really."

Getou's fingers drifted over the spot, barely touching her, "You'll tell me if it does?"

She reached for his hips, hooking her fingers through his belt loop and tugging, "I'll tell you."

He let himself be pulled toward her, leaning on his forearm, and shifting his weight so that he didn't lean against her bruised hip. He kissed her again, slow and languid as he trailed the hand from her hip to cup her breast. Natsumi whimpered against his lips when his thumb brushed her nipple, arching into his touch. They were such small simple touches, but it was nothing like what she thought it would be, what she was used to.

She hooked her leg around his hip, letting her hands wander to his back to pull him closer, to feel him press against her heated center. Even through his pants, she could feel him hard against her. She ground her hips against him, but it wasn't enough to soothe the heat between her legs. A small whimper escaped her when he trailed his lips down her neck, kissing and nipping his way down until he was pressing his lips against her nipple. She fisted a hand in his hair when she felt his tongue circle it, his teeth grazing it.

Every lick and suck had her panting and rubbing herself against him, chasing the much-needed friction against her core. Getou was in no rush, kissing a path from one breast to the other to give it the same treatment, pinching her other nipple between his fingers. She reached for his jeans again, desperately trying to unbutton them. He let her get as far as the zipper before he grabbed her wrist and pinned her hand against the bed, biting her nipple gently.

"Please," she sounded whiny, even to herself but there was an oh-so-familiar ache between her legs that had her desperate and needy.

There was no answer, not with words but he bit her nipple again, harsher this time. The sensation left her gasping and grinding herself against him. Getou let her hand go, putting his hand between them, the tips of his fingers tracing over her clothed slit. She stilled her hips, biting her lip to keep from gasping, afraid any little movement would break that small bit of contact.

His fingers brushed over her clit and even through the thin fabric it sent a wave of heat through her. When he snaked his hand inside her underwear to glide his fingers between her wet folds, she thought she might bite through her lip. He ran his fingers up and down her slit, gathering the wetness before circling her nub slowly. Natsumi clenched her eyes shut, biting her lip so hard she knew it would be swollen later. The tongue on her nipple moved in tandem with his fingers around her clit, and it was all she could do to keep from moaning.

He removed his mouth from her nipple, his fingers still on her clit as he shifted around, his other hand tugging at the edge of her underwear. She lifted her hips and almost cried out when he pulled his hands away from her to slide them down her legs. There was barely a chance to miss the contact when his hands were on her again, his thumb circling her nub while his fingers teased her entrance.

She could feel his hair tickling her skin as he leaned in close, his chest skimming hers. He pressed fervent kisses along her jaw, sinking a finger slowly inside her. "So wet," he whispered against her ear.

His words fanned the fire under her skin, and she realized he was going to kill her. His lips and his touch and his words were going to burn her alive.

There were worse ways to go.

She could feel him lean away from her, his thumb running along the edge of her bottom lip as he grasped her chin. "Look at me," he murmured.

She kept her eyes shut, and he withdrew the finger inside her only to thrust back into her, curling his finger against her walls. The movement sent a shockwave through her and her eyes fluttered open until she was looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. He was kneeling, sitting back on his heels with her thighs spread wide on either side of his hips. The hand not holding her face was between them, pumping his finger inside her as his thumb continued circling her clit.

"Let me hear you," he whispered, never stilling his movements while he watched her, eyes fixated on hers.

If his touch didn't kill her, then the look in his eyes would. She could feel herself flushing under his gaze, the intense look in his eyes that always made her blush.

He added a second finger when she didn't respond, his thumb pressing against her clit until she was unable to keep from gasping and moaning. He leaned forward, rewarding her moans of pleasure by kissing and sucking along her neck, biting any spot that made her squirm against him.

She removed her hands from where she'd held the blanket beneath her in a death grip, couldn't remember ever having moved her hands there in the first place. Natsumi clutched at him desperately, fingernails raking against his back, his arms, any part of him she could reach. She wanted all of him, all at once, and it wasn't enough, might not ever be enough.

"Getou, please," she cried out, not sure what she was asking for, just knowing she wanted more.

"Natsumi."

She couldn't think, could barely breathe. He said her name. Her name, her name, he said her name.

He added a third finger, and it was too much, too much, the pressure building in her lower abdomen as she rocked her hips against him. "You know my name," he whispered in her ear, "use it."

His name fell from her lips as the pleasure crashed over her in waves, her hips rocking against his hand as she came undone. He sucked hard on her neck, his fingers fucking her through her orgasm while she whispered his name over and over. Her skin was on fire and the only relief was him, his chest pressed tight against hers and his lips on her skin. His fingers slowed their pace as her hips relaxed riding out the end of her orgasm.

Getou removed his fingers slowly and she could feel herself clenching around him, just as needy and desperate as the rest of her. He pressed soft kisses against her neck, and it felt almost sinful, the gentleness and the soft touches.

Natsumi dragged her fingernails down his back, relishing the shudder that ran through him. It was nice to know that he was just as affected by her as she rolled her hips against him. The roughness of his jeans against her had her searching for his zipper again. She wanted to touch him, to feel him in her hand and inside her and –

He grabbed her wrist again, pulling her hand away from him before she could even get under his waistband. "I don't… I don't have anything with me," he said and there was the barest hint of pink on his cheeks.

Anything with him? What was he talking about? It was too long before she realized, and she chalked it up to the surprise that he was the one blushing.

He didn't have any condoms.

It was such a silly thing, and he was so concerned. "We stopped to get cigarettes and you didn't think maybe you should…"

"I didn't know this was going to happen," he argued, "And even if I did, I wouldn't have bought them in front of you. That's… That's not how a man should do things." His eyes were narrowed at her, but his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. He was embarrassed.

No, he wasn't anything like what she thought, what she had expected.

"I have some," she leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. In this moment she'd never been more grateful for… for pranks. For pranks from a boy, she shouldn't think about right now or the guilt would tear her apart.

A beautiful broken boy who had cried for the blushing boy in front of her.

"Are you… alright?"

"Huh? Yeah, sorry."

Natsumi patted his shoulder until he moved, leaning over the side of the bed to dig into her nightstand. She found them finally, an overly large box of condoms hidden away in the bottom drawer. Still unopened because she'd never planned on using them. She hadn't even been sure why she'd kept them, emergencies maybe.

Emergencies like fucking the friend (and what a small word to describe them) of the boy who had trusted her enough to cry in her arms.

She couldn't think of any of that just now.

Natsumi tore one off and tossed the rest at her nightstand haphazardly, when she leaned back against the bed, Getou hovered over her again. He was staring at her intently, his face so close to hers that they shared the same breath, "Are you sure that you want this?"

She wrapped her legs around his hips and brushed her lips against his, "I'm sure." She couldn't think of anyone else or the guilt or the things she shouldn't do. It was selfish and it was terrible, and she didn't care. Or she didn't want to care. Not now… later maybe, but not now. Not at this moment. Not when she had been wanting this man for so long and he finally wanted her too.

Getou kissed her hungrily, and she let herself forget about everything else. The only things that mattered were his lips on hers and the way his hands caressed her thighs, her breasts, her waist. He dipped his head down, kissing along the column of her throat and down to her collarbone.

She ground her hips against him, reaching for his pants again, slipping her hand under his waistband, and this time he let her. Afraid he'd change his mind, afraid he'd pull away from her again, she wasted no time wrapping her hand around his length, thick and hard in her hand. He let out a small groan against her collarbone as she pumped her hand along him, running her thumb along the tip.

His hand slipped between them, his fingers rubbing at her clit, his lips and tongue gliding against her skin. Natsumi could feel it building again, the heat and the tightening in her stomach. She lets him go to shove at his pants, trying to shove them as far down as she could reach.

"Be patient," he chuckled against her skin, his body moving downward.

She let out a groan, frustrated that he wouldn't just give her what she wanted. Even as he kissed and sucked his way downward, between her breasts and down her stomach, she thought she might have been wrong before. He was evil. An evil sadistic tease.

But she thought maybe that was wrong too when he placed soft kisses against her hips because he was kind and soft when his lips ghosted over the bruises on her hip.

He put her legs over his shoulders, kissing along her inner thighs and letting his breath fan across her skin. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she wanted him so badly, thought she might die every time she felt his breath across her clit as he kissed closer and closer. She could hear herself breathing harshly, felt herself getting wetter at the anticipation of it and it seemed impossible to be so aroused by so little.

"Suguru," she panted, and his eyes snapped up to hers and if it was possible to be set on fire with a single look then she would be covered in flames. His eyes were blazing, boring into hers as his lips hovered over her center, his lips so close to her but not quite touching. "Please," she begged and it was humiliating to beg him, but she couldn't help but think it was so worth it when his tongue slipped between her folds.

Natsumi let her eyes slip closed and leaned her head back as his tongue dragged along her slit to delve inside her, tasting her. She arched into him, her hand reaching for his hair, trying to pull out the ridiculous hair tie without ripping out his hair. He hummed against her, shoving his tongue in deeper, the action sending shocks through her body.

Finally, she could run her fingers through his hair and tried to urge him closer, arching into him. Getou reached a hand up, pinching her nipple and rolling it between his fingers, his tongue flicking across her clit. She moaned and pulled him closer, her heels digging into his back as his other hand joined his tongue.

Two fingers slid into her, and she rocked her hips into him, panting and gasping and she could hear herself begging him. His lips wrapped around her nub, flicking his tongue across it, and sucking gently as he thrust his fingers into her wet heat.

There was that heat, that ever-present heat that he always made her feel, and she didn't think a man had ever made her feel this good. Not like this, not with their clumsy rough hands and rushing through touches to say they made her come (if she ever did at all). No, Getou seemed to enjoy making her feel good, to take his time tasting her and touching her. When she peeked through her lashes, his eyes were closed and he looked like he was enjoying this just as much as she was.

When he added another finger and curled them inside her, she dragged her fingernails against his scalp. He moaned against her, the vibrations sending heat pooling in her abdomen, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. It was too much and not enough, and her heart was stuttering in her chest when he flicked his tongue over her clit in just the right way and curled his fingers in just the right spot.

The pleasure crashed over her again and her eyes shut tightly as she rocked against him, grasping the hand that was flicking her nipple and pulling at his hair. Just as before he didn't stop touching her, his fingers thrusting inside of her. Her lips were moving, and she knew she was muttering his name and pleading because even as she came down, she still wanted more, she still wanted him.

His movements slowed gradually, his fingers pumping idly inside her while he kissed and sucked the tender skin of her thighs, and she knew later she would be covered in the little marks he left on her.

Natsumi didn't want to, but she couldn't help thinking of the bruises on her hip and the other marks men had left on her. The burn mark he hadn't noticed on her thigh and the scars on her feet from stepping on broken glass and she thought there were much worse marks to have on her. Much worse marks that were left by much worse men who touched her with far less kindness than Getou touched her. That even the most violent way he'd ever touched her was still far less than she'd ever experienced before.

She felt him moving, his lips traveling up as he kissed across her stomach and to her breasts. He flicked his tongue across her nipple, and she could hear him tearing the wrapper and shifting around as he slid the condom on. Getou continued kissing up her body, his lips against her neck as he pressed himself between her thighs.

A sigh left her lips when she felt his thick length resting against her slit and she ground her hips against him. He let out another teasing laugh as he kissed along her jaw, and she knew it was because of how desperate she was. She might be embarrassed if he didn't shiver when she ran her fingernails across his scalp.

Natsumi snaked her hand between them, grabbing hold of him and guiding him to her entrance. Even as he muttered how impatient she was into her neck he didn't stop her, just let her guide him. Getou grasped her thigh in his hand, his fingers kneading the flesh as he slid into her slowly. Her breath hitched as he entered her, and she splayed her hands across his back. He hovered over her, his hair tickling her collarbone as he supported himself on his forearm.

She arched into him as he filled her, her breathing ragged as she felt her walls stretch around him. It didn't hurt, not in a real way, just a vague discomfort that edged into a pleasure that made her feel dizzy. He kissed the sensitive spot on her neck he'd teased earlier, withdrawing just as slowly as he entered her, leaving only the tip inside her before entering her again.

Getou set a slow pace, and she couldn't tell if it was to tease her or if he didn't want to hurt her. She dug her fingernails into his back and lifted her hips to meet his, taking far too much pleasure in the rough groan he breathed against her neck. His chest skimmed hers as he moved against her, his lips kissing softly against her jaw, but his pace quickened, thrusting into her harder.

She moaned when he angled his hips up, reaching that same spot he'd curled his fingers against. He reached a hand between them, his fingers circling her clit as he snapped his hips against hers. Natsumi raked her nails against his back, his shoulders, anywhere she could touch. The pressure was building, the heat washing over her as his fingers moved against her.

He pressed his forehead against hers, their breath mingling as his lips hovered over hers. She opened her eyes again, sneaking a look at him, expecting to find his eyes closed. His eyes burned into hers, always so intense, always causing that fire that spread under her skin, and she could feel it. The flushing that spread across her face and her neck, the heat pooling in her abdomen.

Getou crushed his lips to hers, his tongue tracing her lips and her eyes slipped closed, parting her lips and moaning as his tongue slid along hers. It was too much, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, locking her ankles behind his back. His hips stuttered at the new angle, his fingers pressing more firmly against her clit as she rocked against him. She whimpered, the pleasure building and the fire under her skin overwhelming her, pushing over that edge one more time.

He fucked into her roughly as she fell over the edge, gasping moans and her wandering hands egging him on. His lips caressed her, sucking and biting at her neck, her shoulder. "So beautiful," he moaned in her ear, his fingers still circling her nub while she spasmed around him.

She buried her face in his neck, kissing and biting as she fisted both hands in his hair. Natsumi licked and sucked, listening for every change in his breath, feeling for every shift in his rhythm that told her which spot he liked. He removed his hand from her clit, wrapping his arms around her as he lost all sense of rhythm as her walls clenched around him. His chest pressed against hers, low moans ripped from his throat as he held her tight against him.

When his movements stilled, when there was nothing but the sound of harsh breathing, he shifted, leaning up so he hovered over her. He leaned on one arm and his other hand caressing her waist, sending little shivers through her. She could feel him looking at her, watching her, and she kept her eyes shut.

As she came down from the high of it all, as the pleasure faded, she was struck with a familiar sense of panic and fear. Only this time, she could not leave, because this time she was in her own home. Her heart raced and she tried to ignore the feel of his sweat-slicked skin pressed against her.

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, brushing his lips against hers, and murmured, "I will be right back. I'm not… I'm not leaving, alright?" He didn't move for a moment, watching her for a reaction and then he left her, slowly withdrawing, leaving her with an empty ache she didn't know what to do with.

The thing was, she believed him when he said he would be back, that he wasn't leaving. That was the problem, he had stayed, and they had… and what was she supposed to do now? She hadn't thought this far ahead, hadn't let herself think this far ahead. Didn't want the difficult conversation that followed.

Natsumi was never around for this part, not for years. Even when her life had been some semblance of normal, after she'd come home and lived on her own, she never brought anyone to her home. Never had to worry about falling asleep with someone in her bed, only staying long enough until she could leave without the trouble. What was she supposed to do? Kick him out of her home? This beautiful man that had touched her so sweetly and so kindly? Who was nothing like what she had expected, kissing her bruises so tenderly? Who should hate her and apparently didn't? The only man who had fucked her and made her feel like a person while he did it.

It wasn't what she thought it would be, not with all the rage she'd always seen on him. The taut muscles and snide remarks. When had it changed? Why did it change? Natsumi had expected hate fucking and aggression not… not concern for bruises he didn't cause.

Her thoughts were in a whirlwind, and she flinched when she heard the sound of a glass being set on the nightstand next to her. The bed shifted next to her, and she felt him crawl in beside her, an arm around her waist. "You're thinking too hard."

"How would you know?"

"It's the only time you're quiet," he answered. He pressed his thumb between her brows, "And this, you make this face when you're thinking too much."

Getou tried to pull her closer, to turn on her side to face him, but she tensed against him and his hands stilled. She knew that he was probably confused considering the way she had just been wrapped around him, but she couldn't find it in herself to explain. Didn't know how to even begin to understand it herself. He pressed a cool palm against her cheek, "You're upset."

Natsumi kept her eyes shut but she leaned into his touch, his cool hand soothing. "Can we just pretend that I'm not?"

"Did I do –"

"No… No, I'm just… just really fucked up," she whispered because he hadn't done anything wrong. He'd done everything right. It made it worse, somehow.

"What do you need?"

She felt like she would cry, kept her eyes shut tightly to prevent it, not even sure what she needed. She thought of sweat-slicked skin and heavy arms trapping her and wide dark eyes and –

"Clothes. I need clothes."

Natsumi rolled over, sitting on the edge of the bed and trying to keep her eyes away from him. Luckily her dresser was against the wall facing the bed on her side, so it made it easy to dig around from where she sat. It wasn't sexy and it wasn't pretty, but it was what she needed, a pair of loose sweatpants and a t-shirt. She dug around in the bottom of the drawer, looking for a pair of pants that might fit him because it wouldn't do her much good if he was still naked. It was lucky for him that she preferred men's sweatpants.

She turned and handed him the clothes, barely catching the raised eyebrows on his confused face before she turned back around. She tugged on the clothes, finding some security in them, but it was uncomfortable to wear clean clothes against her still-damp skin. Her hair was too short to put up now, sticking to the back of her neck and she hated it, hated it so much she wanted to crawl out of her skin. She could smell the liquor and the sweat and feel that arm made of steel and see the dark eyes and it was too much, too much, and there was that itch and –

"This band is older than both of us," he sounded amused, and she turned to look at him, sitting on her bed cross-legged, looking odd in the shirt she'd given him.

She blinked at him, he looked so odd wearing that shirt, too large on her and barely fitting his arms. "My brother got it for me… he went to a reunion concert or something. I… wasn't allowed to go."

"I thought you weren't close?"

"We weren't," she whispered, and it was uncomfortable, but it was easier than sweaty skin and painful memories of a night she'd give anything to take back. "He was older than me and… I had issues with our parents. It made me hate him, but he… he still tried. Even though I was shitty to him most of the time."

Getou hummed, leaning back against her bed and looking around her room. There was minimal light, streaming in from the open door in the hallway, but he eyed the walls as if he could see. "Mimiko says you like old music."

"It's only old to her," she was sitting cross-legged facing him, picking at her fingernails anxiously.

"She thinks I'm old too," he smiled to himself. "She's been playing it, I think. The music you've told her about. She plays songs I haven't listened to since my parents were alive."

Natsumi didn't respond, not sure… what to say. Was he making small talk? Was he trying to make her feel better? Was he just curious about her?

"Natsumi," he spoke gently, grasping one of her hands and stopping her from tearing at her fingernails. "You can still ask."

"Ask… what?"

"For me to leave."

She wasn't sure how she felt about him staying, about him in her bed, sleeping with her, or having any kind of conversation about… any of it. But she didn't want him to leave either. It was hard but she laid down next to him, and this time when he reached for her, she tried not to tense.

"You know, I brought that water for you," he muttered into her hair as he held her against him.

"Oh…" she tried to relax into him. She'd heard him set a glass down, but she hadn't thought of what it was or what it was for and… "I didn't think you would be… like this."

"That feels like a thinly veiled insult."

She shrugged, tentatively wrapping her arms around his middle, "I thought you would be… more aggressive." It probably wouldn't be a great idea to say she hadn't thought he would be kind, not like this.

"I can be, I suppose," he said, and he pulled her in closer to him, "but I didn't know… didn't know how afraid you would be."

"I'm not that afraid and I've never been nearly as afraid of you as I should be," she said quietly, and she rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the quiet thrum of his heart.

He ran his fingers through her hair, and the itch in her skin was still there, but it was quieter, not as loud. "You haven't asked about my scar."

"I sort of know," she said, "not how just… I know that you almost died, and a lot of things changed after that."

"Everything changed," he whispered against her hair, "I think… I think you would have liked me, before."

Natsumi smiled faintly, a sad sort of smile, "I wouldn't have even noticed you existed. My girlfriend… she was still alive then and I… I didn't see anyone else when I was with her. Even after, I… I had trouble seeing anyone else. Not until Kazumi and he sort of… forced me to notice him."

"That's fair," he said, and she could feel her eyes drift close. The hand running through her hair was soothing and even through the shirt she could feel how cool his skin was. "We never did eat."

"Not hungry," she mumbled, and it was selfish and terrible and there would be consequences and things to think about tomorrow, but she let herself take the comfort he was offering. Comfort she never thought she would be on the receiving end of and she fell asleep, hoping there would be no nightmares of a night she wished she could forget.

She should have known by now, that hope was something she should never let herself have.


A/N: AHHH. They did it. They done did the thing. Look at them go.

It's Christmas Eve where I am, and happy holidays to all those who celebrate Christmas or something else or none of it. It's still end of year, and for all of us that made it this far, well we're here. We did it. That's always something to celebrate, even if it's hard sometimes.

Also this will be the last chapter until after the New Year. I don't have many notes on FFN but just so you know, I do work full time and I am also in school generally, but I'm taking next semester off. Just wanted to give you all a heads up on that. Feel free to send me messages or leave reviews about updating! I have ADHD AND depression/anxiety, so I get really bad time blindness. Seriously, it's been like over a month.

Fun Christmas Eve thing I want to share, my family has always done pajamas on Christmas Eve and regular presents Christmas Day. Growing up, it was because my mom wanted to make sure Christmas morning we all had our new pajamas that had no holes/stains and fit right so she could take decent pictures of us. I had no idea that was why until we were older and it just stuck. It was always because she had two feral children who desperately wanted to open presents. The traditions have changed a bit since me and my brother are both grown and my parents are divorced (this is a very good thing). Now, we do everything Christmas Eve and when we're broke all we do is pajamas and stockings. Idk, I just really wanted to share that because I love that particular tradition of ours.