22 August 2024
Waking Up
Ren couldn't move. Hot pink ribbons held him spread-eagled on a bed, all of them tied in pretty pink bows. He pulled at his arms and his legs—he found an inch or so of movement but not enough to free himself.
"You're awake."
He felt the goosebumps rise on his arms as she came into focus. His eyes traveled upwards—her long legs were encased in high-heeled stilettos and thigh-high stockings, topped by a miniskirt and a corset. There was a wicked gleam in her eyes as she looked down at him.
"Kyoko," he choked out.
She smirked, and he remembered that smirk. It was the one he saw on Setsu's face. Except this wasn't Setsu, even if she was wearing Setsu's clothing. No, the woman in front of him was entirely his Kyoko.
Just…a version of Kyoko he'd never seen before.
All of the blood in his body went rushing into his cock.
Slowly, she walked closer to the bed. Her hips swayed, hypnotizing him as she walked heel-to-toe on those impossibly high heels. She made sure he could see all of her before she stopped.
He was transfixed. He stared at her, mouth open.
She chuckled. "I see I have your attention," she said.
"Always," he said hoarsely.
Slowly, torturously, he watched as her dainty fingers undid the bow holding her corset laces secure. She loosened them until the corset fell forgotten at her feet. His breath quickened as her breasts came into view—beautiful and pert, exactly a handful each. Her nipples puckered under his gaze, bullet-hard.
He ached to suck them.
She saw him looking and gathered them up into her hands and squeezed them together as if to offer them to him, but she moved no closer. Instead, his eyes widened as she moved to undo her skirt. Slowly, slowly, slowly, she shimmied out of it. He nearly whimpered out loud when he saw her revealed—the black lace garter was framing her perfectly.
She was wearing those panties.
Silky, lacy, black-silk man-eating panties, just like the pair he'd stolen from Setsu's laundry back when they were the Heels.
He stopped breathing when she peeled off the waistband and pulled it down.
And then she grinned and bent over to pick up the clothes she'd discarded. He was certain it was deliberate. She lingered a little too long, allowing him to admire the delicious lobes of her ass and—
And.
Her pussy. Her delicate, elegant slit, revealing just the barest hint of pink. All of it framed by the petal-like lips of her labia.
He wanted to split it apart with his cock.
He could see that she was already slick with arousal and again he tested his bonds. He wanted to ravish her, badly, but he couldn't.
Kyoko stood. Her breasts bounced as she smiled at him with a feigned innocence.
"Do you like what you see?" she asked coyly.
All of a sudden he was terribly aware of how naked he was. He could feel her gaze rake over his body and he trembled in the open air.
"Yes," he gasped. She moved closer and he lurched against his restraints, wanting to touch her. Needing to touch her.
He fell back when he couldn't get free.
She chuckled, the sound low in her throat.
"Poor Ren," she said. "Did you want to touch me?"
"Yes," he whispered. "God, Kyoko, yes—please—"
"Mmm." She got up on the bed, shaking off her shoes and then sitting back on her haunches between his spread-open legs. He held his breath in anticipation, not knowing what he was waiting for. But again, she smirked. "Too bad."
He jolted as each of her hands landed on his legs. She was touching him with just the tips of her fingers, ankle to knee and then back; again, ankle to knee and then forwards up to his thighs. She had him trembling as her touch grew more substantial—her hands skirted around his cock, up the indentations of his belt of Adonis. He held his breath as her hands wandered upwards, and then gasped as she extended her arms up to his shoulders. The bed flexed as she moved—she ignored the hard column of his cock as she straddled him over his chiseled abdomen.
"I like touching you," she said.
"Then touch me," he answered. His body undulated under her touch.
He closed his eyes as she explored him. Her hands were everywhere, setting him aflame—but driving him insane, too. She refused to touch his cock, teasing him, instead, with the warmth of her breath as she worked him over.
"Kyoko, please," he begged, but she just shook her head.
"Patience," she answered.
When he opened his eyes again, she was crouched over him. She was looking deep into his eyes as she moved to cup his cheek.
Her hands were running through his hair now. She moved to cup his cheek and he tilted his face into her hand. "Kiss me," he told her.
"Kiss you?" she asked.
"Please," he moaned, but her lips were already on his. He pulled against his restraints, wanting to kiss her deeply. But she teased him with shallow, tender, closed-mouth kisses, not much better than their kiss in Guam. He cried out in frustration when she pulled away.
She walked her fingers across his chest, laying on him. "Is that all you want?"
Again he pulled against his restraints. She knew what he wanted, and that was what drove him crazy. He wanted to lay his hands all over her, just as she'd done to him. He wanted to taste her mouth, her breasts, her cunt. He wanted to hear her crying out his name as he plunged deep into her, over and over.
"I want you to do everything," he groaned. "I want you to use me."
"Maybe," she said. "If you're good."
She leaned backwards, arching her back. She displayed herself as he groaned, fully aware of how beautiful she looked. She ran her hands down her body, spreading her lips and then rubbing at her clit as he begged.
"Please, Kyoko." He sounded desperate, even to his own ears. "Please let me touch you—let me taste you—"
She offered him two of her fingers, wet with her slick. He pulled against his restraints, rising up as far as he could. He closed his eyes as he sucked her fingers into his mouth, tasting her as she thrust them into his lips.
"More?" she asked.
"Yes! More—please—"
She fell forward, kissing him again. But this time, her kisses were hard, brutal and punishing, giving him everything he wanted and claiming him besides. And just as he was drowning in her, he cried out again as he felt her hand circle his cock. He gasped into their kiss, overwhelmed by the sensation.
"Kyoko, Kyoko—" He threw his head back into the pillow as she stroked him, his hips bucking upwards into her hands. "Fuck—yes—"
She stopped, suddenly. He nearly cried.
"I think you were enjoying that a little too much," she said.
"Don't stop," he begged. "Please don't stop."
"I like hearing you say 'please,'" she teased.
"I'll say it all you want—"
But she was pulling away from him. He nearly panicked.
"No, Kyoko, please don't leave me like this—please, Kyoko—no—"
But he was wrong. She wasn't going to leave him. She moved upwards to straddle his head, tucking her knees above his shoulders. "Fuck," he said. He looked upwards and saw her pussy directly above him, leaking with her arousal. He moaned as she descended to sit on his face, and soon all his senses were subsumed. She was all he could see, all he could hear, all he could touch. She was all he could taste, and he was starved. He wanted to devour her, so he did. His tongue traced the line of her slit and licked along her labia. He thrust it into her, stopped, and then licked upwards to her clit as she moaned.
He wanted to concentrate on her pleasure. His cock was weeping with pre-cum, but it didn't matter. Her pleasure would always come first.
But she was determined to drive him insane. He cried out into her flesh when she took his cock in her mouth, and for a second he was too distracted with the pleasure of it to continue licking her. She was so good, her mouth so hot and wet—
She cums first, he thought, and gathered himself enough to begin again. He wanted nothing more than to taste her orgasm. With the flat of his tongue and then with its tip, he concentrated on her clit, licking and sucking.
He knew he was doing it right when she couldn't keep her mouth on his cock anymore.
She ground her cunt into his face, her hips rolling in an ever-more frantic rhythm.
"Yes," she was saying, "Yes, Ren, yes—"
Fuck.
Her knees were beginning to tremble.
"Please, don't stop, don't stop—"
Her hands were clutching at his bound arms for support.
"Ren, I'm com—"
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
No, he thought. No no no—
He gasped awake, grabbed the alarm clock, and threw it across the room.
He watched it bounce off of the opposite wall in pieces as he reflected on the fact that he was not, in fact, restrained in any way whatsoever. Kyoko was not on his bed wearing slutty lingerie. She was not here sucking on his cock. And she was definitely not sitting on his face.
She wasn't even his girlfriend…yet.
God fucking dammit.
He was sweating. His cock was painfully hard. And the real Kyoko, he was sure, was dreaming virginal dreams a few floors down.
He sighed and got out of his bed to take a shower. A very very cold shower once he managed to do something about his erection. He would try his best to keep himself from grabbing Kyoko and dragging her into his trailer like some kind of caveman. Truly, having her here as Kotonami-san's PA was a stroke of genius. It was going to drive him mad.
He sighed.
Ren Tsuruga was back in the real world, alone and frustrated in an LA hotel room.
=.=.=
Kyoko was at a ball. She was dressed in a beautiful gown, shimmering like a starry sky as she danced to an unseen orchestra. She lifted her arms up in an arabesque and twirled gracefully, and when she stopped she found someone holding her hand.
He had hair like spun gold. Eyes like sparkling emeralds. He was dressed in a tailored white uniform of some kind. Gold braid and medals were pinned over his chest—her fairy prince, in the flesh. He was blindingly beautiful like this—it almost didn't seem fair that so much beauty could exist in a single person. She smiled, happy to see him. She wasn't surprised, not really. She was visiting the Fairy Kingdom, so of course he would be here.
"Corn!" she exclaimed.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, gently.
"May I have this dance?"
His voice made her breath hitch. She felt her heart do a somersault, felt an odd ache in her belly. The feeling was as natural as breathing, but she knew she should feel a little guilty. How was it possible to feel this attraction for Corn when she loved Ren? But she knew why: it was because Corn was wearing Ren Tsuruga's face, and he was speaking in Ren Tsuruga's voice. That voice thrummed through her insides, plush and velvety, dark like rich chocolate. But he isn't Tsuruga-san, she told herself. He's just borrowing Tsuruga-san's body.
"Yes, of course," she said, curtseying. The music swelled.
She was startled when he took her by the waist, feeling a spark pass between them. His hand felt…large. And warm. And…maybe…just a little possessive.
They began to waltz.
She was already feeling heady—the palace was perfumed with the smell of many roses, lit with the sparkle of a thousand chandeliers. But when he whirled her around the room, she was nearly overwhelmed by the surfeit of sensations.
The orchestra was playing a particularly beautiful waltz when he held her frozen on the floor.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
She tilted her head, looking at him askance. "For what?"
He laughed.
He held her tighter and then jumped, and suddenly the floor fell away. She yelped in surprise and sudden fear—they were floating higher and higher because the ceilings had disappeared, too. Above them was a clear night sky, lit by a huge, bright moon. "Don't worry," he said, reassuring her. "I've got you."
She looked down and saw forests and fields shrinking below them. "I can show you the world," he said.
She grinned, recognizing the song. "Shining, shimmering, splendid," she sang.
"Tell me, Princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?"
They flew through the night, rising up beyond the moon. And when she saw a brilliant belt of stardust below them, he took her by the hand and reversed course. They dove deep until the sky became the aquamarine waters she remembered from Guam.
They broke through the water together. She whipped her hair back, arching as she took in the beach beyond them. Her glass slippers were gone, and her toes curled into white sand. Her ballgown was fizzing away, dissolving into the waves. She was left in nothing but a bikini—one made of the same sparkling blue as her gown. She wanted to feel embarrassed, but she didn't. Instead, she wanted to make him look.
Corn was in the linen shirt she remembered from their day in Guam. The drenched cloth clung to his body. Her mouth went dry at the sight of him. She wanted to tear off the shirt—lick the drops of ocean water off of his skin—to touch him again, and maybe not let go. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair and find out what it was like to be crushed underneath this body. There was an unfamiliar throb between her legs and an irresistible pull towards him.
No, she told herself, no no no nonononono—
"What's wrong with wanting to lick the water off my skin, Kyoko?" he asked. He kept his voice light, almost innocent. "Or running your fingers through my hair? Touch me as much as you want. I'd like that too."
She fought through a wave of mortification. He sounded like her gentle Fairy Prince, though the way his hands were holding her—
She looked up and gulped as her gaze was met by the Emperor of the Night, though he still had Corn's eyes and hair. He was staring at her, undressing her with his eyes. She felt her heart racing—her body was anticipating something her mind could not yet admit.
"You wanted me to look," he growled. "I'm looking."
Her mouth dropped. "You can…you can hear my thoughts?"
His green eyes darkened. "Yes."
She wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, but Corn was still holding her around her waist. He was uncomfortably close, but she didn't want him to let her go. It felt too good being held like this.
She blushed, beet red. What would he think of her now? After he'd seen all the lewd thoughts—
He smirked.
She squeaked in outrage. "Corn!" She felt naked, exposed. But she also couldn't deny the frisson of excitement inside her. "You shouldn't use your magic like that—"
She tried to pull away from him. He resisted, solid as rock, waiting. And when she was pushing at him with all her might, he let her go.
She broke free, springing backwards like a broken rubber band. There was an arm's length between them.
She felt a pang of disappointment until she heard his low chuckle.
He looked at her intently as he unbuttoned his shirt. Button-by-button, it came apart until it revealed his entire torso.
She gasped when he shrugged it off. It fizzled into the waves, just as her dress had.
One hand tightened a grip on her hip as the other tilted up her chin. His lips brushed against hers. It started as an echo of the kiss he'd given her the last time they'd been here, tender and insistent. Her lips parted for him in unconscious invitation; he accepted it. He explored her with his tongue. She clasped her arms around his body, reveling in the breadth of his shoulders and the feel of his muscles flexing against her. He kissed her until she was breathless; her body reacted all on its own, arching towards him as his hands pulled at strings holding her bikini together. She gasped as his fingers pushed one of her bikini cups aside to cup her breast. Involuntarily, she cried out when he found her nipple and teased it.
Pleasure. It was as if he'd found a button to drive lightning through her body. His touch grew more insistent as she writhed, but—
Guilt.
She didn't want to admit how good it felt.
She couldn't, because she loved Ren. The fact that Corn looked and sounded and smelled just like Ren Tsuruga didn't make him Ren Tsuruga. She knew who her heart belonged to, and she'd already done too much with the man borrowing his body.
"I have to go, Corn." She strained against him, pushing him away. She had too much to confess to Tsuruga-san already. "We can't do this."
"Stay with me." He wasn't letting go. "I love you, Kyoko."
It broke her heart to say it, but she had to do it. "I'm sorry," she said. "You know I can't—"
"It's Ren Tsuruga, isn't it?"
"Corn—"
"You can't love me because you love him?"
"I do love you, Corn, but not like that—"
"I know you love me," he growled. "I know you do."
She twisted against him, pounding her fists into his substantial chest. "—I love Ren, Corn."
He grabbed her hands in an iron grip, forcing them above her head.
He leaned low, so close that she felt his breath on her lips. She was pinioned against him like a captured butterfly. "You already know," he whispered in her ear.
He kissed her again, sweetly this time. She whimpered against it, unable to keep herself from kissing him back. He let her arms go. "What do I know?" she asked. She was trembling.
He cupped her face in his hands, and she realized with a start that Corn's green eyes and golden hair were gone. It was Ren Tsuruga looking down at her with his inscrutable brown eyes and his dark hair. "Corn and I are the same person, Kyoko-chan," he said. "You've always known."
Her eyes widened as the realization pulsed through her. Her mind and her heart knew he was telling the truth. But Ren didn't wait for her acceptance to settle. Again, he pulled her against him, kissing her. She joined him in utter abandon, frantic with want.
He leaned against her, laying her down as they kissed. She fell down…
Down…
Down…
And when her eyes opened, she recognized the room where they'd stayed as Cain and Setsu. He had her trapped on his bed. She was still in her bikini. He was shirtless, but wearing the black pants she remembered from That Night.
She thought about That Night far too often. She remembered being pinned down beneath him, remembered the taste of his skin. How she'd straddled him, ground herself against him—accidentally touching a long, hard length in his pants as she licked and sucked at his neck.
She hadn't wanted to acknowledge what that was for a long, long time. Nor did she want to acknowledge it when she felt it again—it was the day she'd posed as Liar, draped across his lap for the photoshoot. He'd been hard then too.
This time, she had no choice but to acknowledge his desire for her. She felt it as he ground against her, pressing himself into her desperately and kissing her as if his life depended on it.
"So beautiful," he whispered to her. He retreated from her, watching her come apart. "My Kyoko…"
She could only moan in incoherent sounds as his hands and his lips explored her body. She turned her face to the side and scrunched her eyes closed when he found the ties holding her bikini together, holding her breath as he revealed her breasts and her…thing…to his gaze.
She felt helpless and exposed.
She felt…a little nervous.
But…
…she wanted more.
"Don't look." She hid her face in her hands, but he pulled them away.
"Don't hide yourself from me," he growled. She'd brought her legs together, but he grasped her by the ankles and spread them, gently but firmly against what little resistance she could muster. His eyes were on her most secret place, and she could feel how wet she was for him.
She squirmed. She tried to cover her breasts and again, he pulled her hands away. "I want to see you," he said. She gasped as he tweaked her nipple with his fingers. "And don't pretend you don't want this."
He was on top of her. The breadth of his torso kept her from closing her legs; one hand had captured her wrists and was pinning them over her head and against her pillow. "It's embarrassing," she said, trying to turn away. He wouldn't let her.
"What?" he asked. "That your little cunt is fucking wet for me? I can hear you, Kyoko. That you wish I'd done more—" She gasped as his fingers found her cleft, parting her lips and circling her clit.
She responded in small, frantic gasps.
When he kissed her again, she had no defenses. Her entire self was open to him—her mind and her body. She gave herself to the sensation of his tongue, his skin, his hands. She moaned when he explored every part of her as if he wanted to commit all of her to memory. She cried out when his all-too-knowing fingers began to rub on her clit.
How did he know her body so well?
She wanted to know his body too.
"So touch me, Kyoko," he said.
She couldn't even protest against how he read her mind. Instead she allowed herself every liberty she'd always wanted, making him sigh and moan against her as well. He surged against her and she met him, her hips meeting his in a delicious friction. She could feel his hard length against her clit, still straining the cloth of his pants. It felt so good against her, and she indulged herself in grinding against him with abandon. She wanted—oh god—she wanted to know what he felt like there. She wanted more and more and more, but how could she be so brazen?
He broke their kiss as she whimpered. "You want to touch my cock," he said. "Don't you?"
She froze.
He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants but made no move to pull them off. "I want to hear you say it," he demanded. "Out loud."
She thought she couldn't blush any more than she already had, but this—this was too much. How could she say something so lewd out loud? It was bad enough that he could pick it out of her head.
He waited, watching as she made up her mind. "I want to," she whispered.
He kept watching her impassively, waiting for her to tell him more.
"I…want to touch your cock." She flung the words out of her body, finally admitting how badly she craved him.
He pulled her towards him, placing her hands in his as he guided her. Together, they pushed off his pants and his underwear.
She let out a low moan when she saw it. It was so large…so different from anything on her own body. It was long and thick, and it bobbed in front of her as she stared. "Tsuruga-san…"
Her hand barely closed around its width. He gave an involuntary jerk as she stroked his cock for the first time. She found it unbelievable that something like this could fit inside her. Could he…could this…?
"Oh yes, Kyoko." Again his hand closed over hers as he showed her how to stroke him. "Yes, this will fit. I'll push this into your precious little pussy, over and over again."
He hissed as she kept stroking him, but he pulled away again as a whimper escaped her lips.
He pushed her thighs further open. He held her gaze as he parted the lips of her vulva, watching as she clenched against empty air. He rubbed against her clit, bringing her to a frenzy…and then he stopped.
He flipped her on top of him, just as she'd done on That Night. She was straddling him, and his skin felt hot to her touch. Gently, he placed his hands on her hips and guided her down so that his cock was against her hole. She whimpered when they touched. She'd thought of this so often since That Night. The feeling of his hard length, hidden in his clothing and yet tantalizingly close—and this time, there was no clothing between them.
"Ah!" she said, when his hips ground upwards. He moved her, backwards and then forwards, watching the expressions on her face when she felt how his cock rubbed against her wet pussy—how his cock rubbed against her clit. When she moved on her own, he grinned. She found a rhythm, grinding against him. She started slow but fell into a madness, crying out when his fingers found the center of her pleasure. She was dripping all over his cock. There was no point in hiding how much she wanted him now.
"Tsuruga-san—I think—I think—something—"
He stopped her, holding her body still with his hands on her waist. She nearly cried out in frustration, but he silenced her with a kiss.
"I think you're ready," he said. She didn't argue. She didn't ask 'what am I ready for?'
She knew.
She held her legs wide open for him as he nestled his cock against her folds. Gently, he rocked against her, coating his cock with her slick all over again before holding it still for her.
"Sit down on me, Kyoko-chan," he said.
She panted but began descending, feeling the lips of her pussy part as he began to enter her.
"Ahhh, Tsuruga-san—"
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
Kyoko Mogami bolted upright, feverish and disoriented as she took in the empty room around her.
No Tsuruga-san.
No Corn.
She was squeezing her legs together, wet with frustrated desire. Her heart was beating too fast, her nipples still hard as rocks. The air smelled like lust.
Oh no—she'd overslept. It was the first time she'd ever done that—usually, she was awake well before her alarm. She looked over at the clock—she must have snoozed it somehow.
She shook her head, trying to shake the images out of it. She could tell Koga-kun how pure she was every single day, but it didn't change how lewd her dreams had become. This wasn't the first time she'd dreamt of Tsuruga-san, and she knew it wouldn't be the last.
Or…Ren-Corn. Because somehow he was always both people in her dreams.
"KYOKO!" It was Moko, at her door for their morning run. "HEY, KYOKO! ARE YOU THERE? ARE YOU OK?"
Kyoko startled.
Calm down, she told herself. She took deep breaths. You are not having sex with Ren-Corn. You are Kyoko Mogami, seventeen years old, working as Kanae Kotonami's personal assistant as she begins her role on the Route Project.
"I'm here!" she called out.
Quickly she threw back the covers and padded to the door, taking a quick look in the mirror as she walked by. Her reflection appalled her. Her eyes looked…wild. She looked unkempt. She was blushing for no reason because the images of a naked Ren Tsuruga refused to leave her mind. She couldn't let Moko in, not when she looked like this. She opened it a crack, peeking her head out into the hallway. A concerned-looking Moko was on her doorstep.
"Sorry, Moko!" she said. "I…must've overslept."
Moko raised an eyebrow. "You? Overslept?"
Kyoko blushed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know how I missed my alarm."
Moko crossed her arms over her chest, giving her a skeptical look. Kyoko never overslept. In fact, she rarely even needed an alarm. She was often awake at the crack of dawn, running a lap and doing entire workouts before Kanae even managed to crawl out of bed. She looked at her friend's high color, the feverish look in her eyes—she wondered why Kyoko was peeking through the door instead of opening it and doing a dogeza for her lateness. Was she hiding something? She looked at her friend with suspicion. "Is Tsuruga-san in there?" she asked.
"WHAT!?" Kyoko's blush reached her ears. "No! Moko, of course not!"
"Really?" Moko pursed her lips. "You're acting awfully suspicious. Not that it's any of my business, but I swear, if he's using you for sex—"
"What?!" Kyoko was frantic. "S-s-sex!?" Her voice dropped to a frenetic whisper. "Tsuruga-san wouldn't do that!"
"Then what's with you this morning?" Moko asked.
Kyoko blushed again. "Iwashavingadream," she muttered.
"A nightmare?"
Kyoko hesitated. "No," she finally said. "Nothing like that. But—please, I'll be with you in a few seconds—"
Kanae raised an eyebrow and then smirked at her best friend. She knew she was one of the very few people that knew about Ren Tsuruga and Kyoko Mogami, but she figured Kyoko hadn't told her…everything. Innocent as Kyoko was, she suspected that the girl wasn't entirely impervious to Ren Tsuruga's physical charms. She choked back a laugh, thinking of what Kyoko's dreams could've possibly entailed. "Take your time," she drawled.
Kyoko squeaked and then ran back into her room. The door was closed for only a few seconds before she came back outside, dressed for their run.
"No need," Kyoko said. "Let's go!"
=.=.=
Ren Tsuruga somehow managed to shower, dress, and make his way downstairs to eat—all this, despite having been cockblocked in the worst way by his alarm clock. He made sure to fill his tray with a balanced, nutritious breakfast. He knew it made Kyoko happy. And Kyoko's happiness was important to him, because he loved Kyoko.
He loved her for her joy, her talent, her humor…he loved her for her optimism. He loved her for being so caring. He loved her temper and her laughter. And he loved how passionate she was—about acting.
Yes, about acting.
"Would you like an omelet, Mr. Tsuruga?" He looked up, surprised to find that he was still at the hotel's breakfast buffet, daydreaming in front of the omelet station. There was a person there in chef's whites and toque, looking curiously at him. "They taste really good!"
"No, thank you," he responded, giving the young man a polite smile before shuffling off to find a table.
Omelets were not what he wanted to eat. Omelets were not what he wanted to taste…
God, what did she taste like?
He was sure she'd taste sweet. He couldn't wait to taste her—to smell her again. He'd stolen a pair of Setsu's panties when they were living together—he wasn't proud of it, but he hadn't been able to help himself. He'd left those panties at home in Japan, safe in a little box in a locked drawer in his condo. He wished he'd brought them—
NO.
No.
Her body had nothing to do with why he loved her. Nope. Not at all. He was better than that. He wasn't some sicko animal who just wanted to ravage his girlfriend over…and over…and over….
STOP IT! He told himself. And she isn't your girlfriend. Yet.
"Ren-kun!"
He turned around, afraid that his guilty conscience would show on his face.
It was Yashiro. "Good morning!" his manager said brightly. "I see you've gotten a good start on breakfast." He peeked over at Ren's tray. "Kyoko-chan will be pleased."
"K-kyoko?" Ren choked out.
Yashiro's smile turned sly. "You know," he said. "Kyoko-chan. Cute girl? Hot-pink uniform?"
Ren found a table and stumbled into a chair before he dropped his tray. He buried his head in his hands before sighing and forcing himself to sit upright.
Yashiro looked at him curiously. "Are you ok? You look like you had a rough night."
Ren shook his head. "It was fine. Just had some…I guess they were just…"
Yashiro leaned in, listening intently.
"...vibrant dreams," Ren finished lamely.
Yashiro furrowed his brow. "Dreams?"
"Yeah."
Yashiro narrowed his eyes. "What kind of dreams?" his manager asked. Ren had the terrible feeling that Yashiro already knew what kind of dreams they were.
"Nothing—" he began to say—but a flash of hot pink over Yashiro's shoulder distracted him into silence.
Stay cool, Ren, he was telling himself.
Kyoko had walked into the room with Kanae Kotonami. They were also carrying breakfast trays. Ren froze his face into a neutral mask, aware that Yashiro was scrutinizing him after turning to see what had caught his attention.
Yashiro smirked. "I'll have mercy on you this time, Ren-kun," he said with a conspiratorial whisper.
And before Ren could stop him, "Kyoooko-chan!" his manager called, waving. "Kotonami-san!"
The two girls turned. Ren sucked in a breath as Kanae walked briskly towards their table, followed by a somewhat frazzled-looking Kyoko-chan. "Good morning," Kanae said.
Yashiro patted the seat next to him, and Kanae sat on it in the business-like fashion she had.
"Goo-good morning, Yashiro-san, Tsuruga-san," Kyoko added, bowing to both of them.
Now that she was here, his heart was racing in his chest. His stomach was infested with butterflies. He wasn't quite sure whether or not he remembered how to breathe. He was trying to keep his eyes off of her, but he couldn't help it—his wayward gaze traveled from the floor…up her legs…up past the swell of her breasts. His mouth went dry as his treacherous mind imagined pulling down the zipper of godforsaken uniform Lory had given her and then peeling it off of her so he could eat her for breakfast.
Their eyes met. She looked calm.
No frozen-pigeon Kyoko. No screwed-up-face Kyoko. Just wide-eyed Kyoko with a light flush on her cheeks.
He forced the polite smile back onto his face and pulled out a chair for her.
"Would you like to sit on—I mean with—me?" Ren stuttered.
Shock registered on Kyoko's face. Her mouth dropped, and her tray would have, too, if he hadn't caught it in time. She blushed all the way to the tips of her ears as they both froze, holding her breakfast between them. For a second, he thought he saw a flash of unslaked lust in her glance.
She avoided looking at him as she set down her breakfast and sat primly in her chair.
"Yes, thank you, Tsuruga-san!" she said brightly.
Had he imagined it?
She picked up her fork, glanced at him, and fumbled.
The fork went clattering onto the floor. Both of them bent down to pick it up, their fingers touching accidentally and making them both freeze at each others' touch.
"Oh," Kyoko said. She laughed nervously. "I'm so sorry, Tsuruga-san, I'm so clumsy today."
"Not at all," he answered. He slid his chair out from underneath the table. "I'll grab you a new one." He was trying to tear his gaze away from her but their eyes kept meeting.
"Tsuruga-san!" she squeaked. "I couldn't possibly allow you to inconvenience yourself on my behalf—!"
They both got up at the same time.
"It's quite alright, Mogami-san. No inconvenience at all."
But Yashiro interrupted them.
"Tsuruga-san," he said, "the forks are right here." He gestured towards the center of their table, where a caddy held silverware and a little stack of fruit jams.
"Oh," he said dumbly.
Again, they both reached for the same fork. Again, their fingers touched accidentally. Her hand sprang back and away from the silverware. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. He finished picking up the fork and offered it to her, and when she took it from him, his fingers may have held onto it just a second too long before letting it go.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
He wanted to kiss her. He was just about to go for it when Yashiro cleared his throat.
"Ready for another busy day of shooting?" he asked casually.
Kyoko sat back down. He did, too.
Kanae guffawed, shaking her head as she looked at them. "I'm not sure what is happening right now," she said. "But you two are hopeless."
Yashiro nodded in agreement.
Ren sighed, watched Kyoko eat a grape, and promised himself: someday.
.=.=.=
Author's Note:
[MANIACAL CACKLING]
PS: Poor, inexperienced Kyoko doesn't know about oral sex yet.
…I kinda want to do a Part 2 to this. What you think?