The shopping bags, filled with new clothes and our new, shared secret, thudded softly onto the floor.
Jun didn't let go of me. He kicked the bedroom door shut behind us, the click of the latch echoing in the sudden, charged silence. The "anatomy" question he'd asked on the stairs was still hanging in the air, a live, sparking wire.
He slowly, finally, lowered me onto my bed. The old wooden frame let out a soft, familiar groan, as if it were sighing.
I felt the warmth of his body begin to pull away as he straightened up.
I didn't let him.
My arms, which had been looped around his neck for the entire trip upstairs, stayed exactly where they were. I held him in place, my gaze locked on his.
"Yui?" he asked, his voice a low question.
He hovered over me, his hands braced on the mattress, our faces inches apart. The playful, teasing energy from the stairs evaporated, replaced by that intense, heavy sincerity that always, always undoes me. The air was thick with everything we'd done today, and everything we were about to do.
My heart was a chaotic, frantic drum solo against my ribs. It was so loud, I was sure he could hear it.
He leaned in, his lips brushing mine. It was a gentle kiss, not like the one at the station. This was soft, hesitant, asking a question I didn't know how to answer. He pulled back, his thumb coming up to brush a stray strand of hair from my cheek.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with an emotion I couldn't quite name. His thumb stroked my skin, and I shivered. "You are my entire world, Yui."
He kissed me again, deeper this time. A vow.
"I can't imagine a world without you by my side," he murmured against my mouth.
And then I felt it.
A single, hot drop of moisture on my cheek that wasn't mine. I opened my eyes. His were squeezed shut, but a tear had escaped, tracing a path down his temple.
My arms instantly unlocked from his neck. My fingers flew to his face, brushing away the evidence of a pain he tried so hard to hide.
"Jun...?"
"I'm sorry," he choked out, the sound ragged. He buried his face in my hair, his body trembling. "I'm so sorry, Yui. Seeing you today, in that dress... so happy... all I could think about was what it cost you. What I cost you. Two years of this. Two years of you, alone."
I didn't need to ask. I knew. This was the crushing weight of his absence, the guilt he carried for a crime he never committed.
"I acted tough," I confessed, my own voice trembling as I clung to him. "For two years, I told myself I was strong. That I was just... waiting. But Jun, it was so cold. I was so scared." I pulled him down, needing his weight on me, needing to prove he was solid.
"Even now," I whispered, the most secret, shameful truth spilling out. "Even when you're this close... sometimes I'm terrified I'll blink and you'll just... fade away again. That this is all just a wonderful dream I'm having at your empty desk."
The dam broke. The sob that tore out of me was for the girl who had waited, and for the girl who was still, somewhere deep inside, terrified of being left again.
His reaction was instant. His mouth crashed down on mine, a desperate, fierce kiss that was all teeth and tongue and raw, possessive need. It tasted of our shared tears, of salt and promises.
"I'm not going anywhere," he growled against my lips. "Never again."
This was what I needed. This was the only thing that felt real. I clung to him, pulling him down on top of me. My legs hooked around his waist, locking him in place as his arms wrapped around my back, crushing me to his chest. We were a perfect, tangled puzzle. A knot tied so tightly it could never, ever be undone. We just lay there, a messy, tear-soaked heap, breathing each other in.
The emotional storm passed, leaving a new kind of charge in the air. A heavy, electric anticipation.
Then, I felt his hand move from my back. I felt the cool, metallic zzzzip of the zipper on my white dress.
Ah.
He tugged the dress down, slowly, agonizingly, his knuckles brushing my skin. He slid it over my shoulders, down my torso, and past my hips, until I was left in nothing but my bra and panties.
He pulled back, his gaze fixed on my chest, covered only by a simple, pale-pink bra. He rested his head on my chest, right over my heart. I could feel his ear, warm against my skin.
He kissed my chest, right above the delicate lace cup. "Your heart is beating so fast."
"It would be... weird if it wasn't," I panted, my fingers finding their way into his soft hair.
His hand, so large and warm, began a slow journey up from my waist, over my ribs. My breath hitched. His fingers brushed the underwire, a light, teasing touch.
This is it. This is really...
His hand slipped under the cup. His bare skin against mine. It was too much. His thumb, rough and warm, found the hardened, aching peak, brushing it under the thin fabric.
"Ah..." A small, helpless moan escaped my lips.
His other hand moved to my back. With a skill that was frankly a little too practiced for my liking, he unhooked the clasp. He pushed the strap off my shoulder, and the bra fell away.
This was different from last night. This wasn't the secret, forgiving shadows of the moonlight. This was the bright, unforgiving fluorescent light of my bedroom. He could see everything.
He just... stared. His eyes were wide, his lips parted, like a kid who had just discovered the most amazing, magical toy in the universe. The last time he'd seen me like this, we were kids, still bathing together. That had stopped, of course, the year Jun's... specific part... first reacted to seeing my body.
He was definitely not a kid anymore.
"Jun...?" I whispered, feeling suddenly shy.
He reached out, his finger tracing the curve, as if I were a piece of priceless art. "It's pink," he whispered, his voice filled with a kind of wondrous, holy awe.
His thumb and forefinger closed around the nipple, pinching, pulling gently.
"Ahh...!"
"Yui," he breathed. "It's so beautiful."
"Don't... don't say unnecessary things, baka...!" I gasped, my cheeks burning. But I couldn't look away. I couldn't stop watching him... watching him watch me.
He leaned down. His teeth, warm and gentle, grasped the lace of the other cup.
And then...
Ah!
He shut his own mouth over my nipple, sucking it in. A hot, wet, shocking sensation. A jolt went straight through me. At the same time, his fingers resumed their relentless torture on the other one. My back arched off the bed. My brain was melting. This was... this was too much...
"Jun... ah... wait..." I moaned, my hands finding his hair, my fingers tangling in the soft strands, not pushing, but holding him there.
"My boobs aren't... ah... the only part of me," I managed to gasp out, my body desperate for... for more.
What did I just say?! Why did I say that!
He pulled back, his mouth wet, a look of sudden, dawning realization on his face. "Ah," he said, as if I'd just reminded him of an important errand. "Sorry."
His face slid down. He kissed the valley between my breasts, then my ribs, his lips tracing a hot path down my stomach. He paused at my navel, his tongue darting out to taste my skin.
I'm so embarrassed! And so... so excited. He's going... lower.
He reached the V-cut of my simple white panties. The last, flimsy line of defense. He didn't hesitate. He pressed his face right into the fabric. His nose, hot and damp, brushed against that spot.
Ah!
My thighs snapped shut, trapping his head. It was pure instinct.
He sniffed. He actually, shamelessly sniffed me.
"Don't sniff, baka!" I squeaked, my body rigid with mortification. "It's... it's dirty!"
"No part of you is dirty for me," he murmured against the fabric, his voice a low, dark vibration that shot straight through me.
"I... I think I should take a bath first..." I stammered, my last, desperate attempt at modesty.
He didn't respond with words. His tongue, hot and wet, pressed against the fabric, lapping at me, trying to penetrate through. My hips lifted off the bed. His hands moved to the waistband, hooking his thumbs in.
He started to pull them down.
"Ah... wait!" The words burst out of me, a last, frantic gasp for control. "This isn't fair, Jun!"
He froze, his hands still on my panties, looking up at me in pure, innocent confusion.
"Why am I," I panted, "the only one being naked here!?"
I sat up. The motion was so abrupt it surprised us both. I was topless, my panties halfway down my hips, my hair a wild mess. It was a shameless, ridiculous pose, but I didn't care. I pointed at him.
"Sit!"
To my utter, dumbfounded shock, he did. He immediately scrambled and sat like a samurai awaiting orders. He looked up at me, a picture of perfect, obedient... confusion.
He actually did it!
My confidence surged. I was in charge. I sat up fully on the edge of the bed.
"Hands up."
He raised his hands.
I leaned forward and grabbed the hem of his new black shirt. As I pulled it up, over his head, my bare breast, at the perfect eye-level, brushed right past his face.
He lunged, his mouth clamping down on my breast, swallowing me whole.
"Ah—!"
A surprised, sharp squeal escaped me. The sudden, hot, wet weight pulled me off balance. We fumbled, collapsing back onto the bed in a tangled heap. The old wooden frame let out a loud, protesting CREEEEEAAAAK.
My parents!
...Oh, who cares!
He started sucking again, hard. His hand already back at my panties.
"W-Wait!" I gasped, pushing at his head. "Not yet! Your pants, too!"
He didn't stop. His eyes were squeezed shut, lost in his task. But his other hand fumbled with his own waistband, kicking off his new black trousers.
He finally pulled back, his lips wet, his eyes blazing. We stared at each other for a frantic, breathless second. We were back in the same position, tangled on the bed, only now we were both in just our underwear. Him, pinning me.
His mouth was a hot, wet brand on my breast, his tongue a wicked, wonderful torment. My hands were fisted in his hair, not to push him away, but to hold him there, to guide him. The world had shrunk to this single, overwhelming point of contact.
He then drifted down my body, his bare chest a smooth, scalding friction against my skin. He didn't stop at my stomach. He didn't pause at my navel. He went lower, his hands gripping my hips, his face burying itself in the soft center of my arousal.
My thighs snapped shut. It was a reflex, a last, pathetic attempt at modesty.
It didn't stop him. I felt his hot breath through the thin fabric. Then, his tongue. A warm, wet, shocking press of intent.
My hips arched off the bed.
Oh.
I felt a dampness there, a sudden, mortifying slickness. I hope... I really, really hope that's just his saliva from before...
"Yui..." he whispered, his voice a low, rough vibration that shot straight through me. "I'm taking it off now. Is that...?"
"Just..." I panted, my eyes squeezed shut. "Stop... asking me already, baka!"
His fingers, so warm and steady, hooked into the waistband. He didn't rush. He pulled them down, slowly, agonizingly, his gaze following the retreating fabric as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. He slid them past my hips, down my thighs. I instinctively bent my knees, letting him peel them off my ankles and toss them aside.
And just like that, I was completely, utterly bare.
Under the bright, unforgiving fluorescent light of my bedroom.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. He's looking. He's... he's really looking at me.
I felt his hair, soft and light, brush against the inside of my thigh. And then...
Ah…!
It wasn't a kiss. It was a… a press. Hot, wet, and impossibly soft. He just… rested his mouth there for a second, his lips perfectly flush against me, as if he were learning my shape, breathing me in.
A pathetic, high-pitched "eeep!" escaped me.
His tongue.
It darted out. Just one single, shocking, electric swipe.
A jolt shot straight through me. It wasn't like his fingers. It wasn't like his hand. This was... this was... my back bowed, my hips lifting off the bed. My brain just... dissolved.
He wasn't hesitant anymore. His mouth was… oh, god… he was tasting me. A low, steady, lapping rhythm. It wasn't just in one place; the sensation was everywhere. My nerves were a network of fire, all leading back to that one, single, overwhelming point.
A sound, a high-pitched, shameful sound I'd never made before, tore out of my throat.
"J-Jun! Ah… Juuun!"
I tried to cover my mouth. I needed to cover my mouth. My parents were right downstairs. But my arms... my arms felt like they were full of cement. I couldn't move. All the energy was draining from my body, pooling in that one throbbing, exquisite spot. My toes curled. My legs, acting on a desperate, primal instinct I didn't know I possessed, wrapped around his head, my thighs clamping down, pulling him impossibly closer.
Don't stop. Don't you dare stop.
The sound in the room was… indecent. The wet, lapping sound of his mouth, my own hopeless, broken moans, and the constant, frantic creaking of the bed.
"Jun... Jun, please... ahn!"
He took my pleas as encouragement. He intensified. His tongue was faster, his sucking more desperate. He'd found that one tiny, hidden... center... and he was not letting go. My world was shrinking. It was just... that. I was climbing. My body was coiling, tighter and tighter... oh, god... I'm...
"Jun! I'm—! I can't—!"
The sound that ripped out of me wasn't a moan. It was a scream.
"NGHAAAAA—!"
A scream, loud and piercing, tore from my lungs. No, I can't! It's too loud! Mom! Dad!
He came to my rescue. In one fluid motion, his mouth left... that spot... and crashed onto mine, swallowing my scream. The sudden kiss was a shock, his tongue plunging deep.
My mind, in its last moment of coherence, wailed in protest. Ah, no! He stopped! Don't stop!
But the blissful torment didn't end.
As his lips claimed mine, his hand—that large, warm, impossibly skilled hand—replaced his mouth. He slid his palm right over my wet, slick center and... rubbed.
Oh.
My body, still shaking, still on that razor's edge, jolted. He was... still going. He was kissing me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine, while his fingers circled, pressed, and stoked the fire that was just about to die. I was moaning into his mouth now, my body bucking against his hand. He was watching me, his eyes dark, a master musician playing an instrument he had just discovered.
It took a long, long time for the aftershocks to fade. He held me, kissing me softly, his hand never stopping its gentle, circling comfort until I had finally, finally calmed down.
When my breathing was almost normal, he released his hand, his arm coming to wrap around my waist. We just lay there, gazing at each other, our chests rising and falling in unison, sharing the same hot, ragged air.
"I..." I whispered, my voice raw. "I thought... I was going to die."
He didn't reply. He just watched me, his own breathing heavy, his eyes still dark and possessive.
My eyes drifted down. Past his sweat-slicked chest, his stomach... to the thin, stretched fabric of his boxer briefs.
Oh.
The "anatomy" we were supposed to be "studying" was... still very much at attention. All that work... all my... everything... and he was still...
A new kind of warmth, a slow, deep, possessive affection, flooded my body. I had taken so much. I had been completely, selfishly devoured. My strength returned, a slow, steady tide.
I shifted, rolling onto my side to face him. I reached out, my fingers tracing the hard ridge of the "problem" through the thin cotton. His hips jerking at my touch.
I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear.
"...Your turn."