Theme: Ménage à Trois (Haruka)
"This is our secret, right?"
Haruka trailed her finger down Minako's spine and then planted a kiss just above the swell of her buttocks. "Of course it's a secret, Minako-chan. Besides... who would believe us if we said anything?"
"I don't know... they might believe anything of me," Minako said, a little sadly.
Michiru kissed Minako's nose, causing the younger girl to blink. "It's always good to be open... curious..." Her hand slid down Minako's stomach, over the toned muscles and into the curls of blonde hair. Minako's eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted. As Michiru began to stroke her, one of Haruka's fingers slowly slid inside her. Minako caught her breath and gasped, not knowing which name to say. She'd never been stimulated like this; she didn't know what to do, how to act.
"Shh," Michiru whispered, lowering her head and catching one of Minako's nipples between her lips, "you don't need to say anything."
Haruka tucked her head into Minako's neck and began to suck on her own piece of flesh, occasionally nibbling gently with her teeth. She felt Minako quiver against her, felt the muscles tighten around her finger. "Already?" she whispered. "You're so sensitive."
Minako's hips jerked forward in response to Michiru's caress. "It's a... curse," she gasped, feeling her body spiral towards that release, arching her back against Haruka.
"I'd call it a blessing," Haruka murmured, chuckling as Minako cried out, her muscles locking tight, her body trembling. She held the girl against her gently with one arm until the crisis was over and Minako lay sweating on the bed, panting, her eyes closed.
"All you dreamed of?" Michiru supplied, raising her head. Her eyes were sparkling. "It's certainly a good beginning."
Minako's eyes widened. "Beginning?"
"Of course," Haruka said with a laugh. "The night is young. You didn't really think we were going to stop there, did you?"
Theme: Sugar (OTP: Makoto/Nephrite)
Version: Manga (Crystal Tokyo)
I met him out for dinner on a Friday night
He really had me working up an appetite
He had tattoos up and down his arm
There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm
He's a one stop shop, makes my panties drop
He's a sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man...
- Christina Aguilera, Candyman
It was a charity ball to raise money for diabetes charities. They had managed to find a way to stop HIV developing into AIDS, they had finally vanquishd TB and they were continually making progress with cancer, but the diseases of age proved more difficult to conquer. Unlike Ami, Makoto did not find this frustrating. After all, these diseases had been with humanity for centuries, they would not be solved with a snap of the fingers, no matter how clever the fingers.
The theme of the ballroom was sugar. Various bowls were positioned around the room, full of sweets: cough twists, peanut brittle, bonbons of all types, chocolate shells from Belgium and other assorted candy. Makoto wondered if this was in good taste, but it was Minako's idea, not hers. The drinks were all sugary as well: dessert wines, sickly cocktails, brandy and rum heavily featured on the menu.
Fortunately, the music had a little more spice. Minako had found a big band that did jazz and swing. Combined with the alcohol, this made for a raucous but good-natured evening. Unfortunately, she'd managed to have a fight with Susumu this afternoon, which meant that, even though they were technically here together, they weren't actually on speaking terms. Makoto toyed with her glass of rosé, knowing that it highlighted the roses in her cheeks and brought out the red in her hair. Men were looking: they'd been looking all evening, but not one of them had come up and asked her to dance. She was still too tall, too toned, too intimidating. It had been this way in the Silver Millennium, it had been this way when she was a 20th century teenager. Some things didn't change.
She felt shivers race all over her body and turned to look at the man who'd spoken to her: tall, broad shoulders, chocolate brown eyes. The smell of leather and horses washed over her. It was amazing how the scent remained the same, she thought. Two lifetimes, thousands of years, loyalties changed, vows broken, but he could have been that same naive young man standing in the woods, staring at her.
"Most men prefer to have a partner who doesn't look down at them," she pointed out.
"Literally or figuratively?"
It was such a quick response, so unexpected, that she laughed out loud. "Both, I think!"
"Well, I don't mind a woman looking down at me figuratively."
She glanced at him sideways. He was smiling, neither arrogant nor timid, just a smile, warm and appreciative. Simple. There was never any ulterior motive with him. She thought that might just be his most appealing trait, especially when you considered his comrades: Zoisite was sweet but too clever to be this transparent; Jadeite seemed simple but used that as a way to get under people's skin; as for Kunzite... Well, at least he didn't pretend to be anything he wasn't. He was complex and unapologetic about it. Though that just made Minako's attraction to him even more mysterious.
"What are you trying to say?" she asked, smiling so that he knew she wasn't offended.
"Dance with me?" He grinned, daring her. "I won't tread on your feet, promise."
Makoto felt a warm glow and grinned back. "I'll hold you to that," she warned, putting her glass down and taking the hand he held out. He was wearing gloves as part of his uniform but they were so thin that she could feel the warmth of his skin through the material, as well as the strength of his fingers. As he led her onto the floor, she saw Susumu staring at them, white with shock. Serves you right, she thought with some satisfaction as she turned her back on him.
The band struck up a doo-wop beat, the trombones setting the bass line while the trumpets blared over them and the swooping lights picked up the sweat on the players' cheeks. Nephrite looked at her, briefly worried. "Can you swing?"
"Yes," she said, "can you?"
He laughed. "I guess we're about to find out." Then he threw her out and pulled her back in and they began to dance. Makoto was glad that Nephrite had muscles: swing required a lot of arm strength as well as agility and she wasn't sure that many men would have been able to throw her around like this, let alone flip her off their shoulders.
"You're good!" she said as he let her slide between his legs and twist back up.
"Thanks... you're not so bad... yourself," he replied as the music broke down to the snare drum and the singers.
Well, by now I'm getting all bothered and hot
When he kissed my mouth, he really hit the spot
He got lips like sugar cane
Good things come for boys who wait...
Boys who wait. Her mind went in two directions, thinking of Susumu, waiting for this dance to end; thinking of Nephrite, waiting for... what? She looked at him and noticed the happiness in his eyes. He wasn't waiting for anything. He was in the moment. In that moment, she envied him and she wanted that happiness for herself, to suck it out of him. She shivered, not liking this greed, this sudden desire to devour.
"Makoto-san?" He was looking at her. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing..." She gave him a smile, knew that it didn't reach her eyes. "Just thinking."
He raised his eyebrows, spun her, and then the song was ending and people were whooping and clapping.
"You want some air?"
"That would be great," she agreed, taking his arm and almost marching away from the dancefloor, knowing that Susumu would be looking to get her alone at the earliest opportunity. He let her lead him without saying anything until they were outside, in the cool blue of evening, the garden rainbow-coloured through the crystal of the palace.
"What was all that about?"
"I'm sorry?" She turned away. Coyness was not her forte.
"You know what I mean. You stopped smiling in there, you lost all your light. You looked miserable. Why?" His eyes sharpened. "Another fight?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Typical... sweet as pie in there, but once you get what you want, you turn sour again."
"And what is that supposed to mean?!"
"You know what it means." He folded his arms. "You're avoiding him because you had a fight, that's fine. But do you really think walking out here with me alone is going to help? Go ahead and piss him off, but don't involve me!"
"You're already involved!" she snapped and then wished the words back.
"How can I be involved?" he demanded, more frustrated than angry. "I haven't done anything except dance with you, I wasn't there when you started arguing... unless you were arguing over me." He stared at her. "I thought you told him we'd resolved everything."
"So why is he...?"
"I don't know!" she hissed, hugging herself. "And I don't like being interrogated."
"Is that what he's doing? Interrogating you about what happened between us?"
She nodded and drew a deep breath.
"Nothing happened." He sighed. "Do you want me to tell him that? Would that make it better?"
"No!" She shook her head, feeling the joy of the dance vanish finally. "No... he won't believe you. He'll just think you're hiding something."
"Oh-!" He ran his hands through his hair. "Like what?"
"Like this." She grabbed his collar and pulled his head down, pressing her lips to his, feeling her whole body shudder as she did so. He made a startled noise in his throat and then his hands grabbed her waist, pulling her against him as if they were about to dance again. She arched against him, liking the solid warmth, and he made another noise. He tasted sweet, she thought. The normal sugar from the candy was mixed with the dark tang of rum and she licked his lower lip, liking the taste.
"Damn it, Makoto-!" He lifted his head, his hands gripping her tightly, his eyes wild. "What are you trying to do?"
Makoto opened her mouth but didn't get the chance to answer because someone cleared their throat. She felt her heart sink and turned her head.
It was Minako.
Makoto sagged in Nephrite's arms, so that he staggered a little from surprise. "Don't scare me like that, Minako-chan," she said. "I thought it was-"
"Your boyfriend?" Minako finished dryly. "Yeah, I bet you did. You know, there are plenty of empty rooms in this place and you choose the terrace to have your little liaison? I thought you were smarter than that, Mako-chan."
Makoto gaped at her. She knew without looking that Nephrite was doing the same thing. "S-smarter?"
"I won't tell." Minako tapped her nose, grinning. "Just be a little more discreet next time, 'kay? Technically, you are still spoken for." She turned and swished back inside.
Nephrite gently straightened Makoto and then let go. "Did she just tell us to be more discreet?" he asked, bewildered. "This coming from the woman who-"
"Don't!" Makoto said, holding up a hand and closing her eyes against the image that sprang to mind. "It took me weeks to stop blushing."
She looked at him, then looked away, aware that she was now blushing again, if for an entirely different reason. "Well..."
"What was that about?" he asked, almost whispering the words.
"I..." She licked her lips and tasted him on them. She had so nearly ruined everything. And now her whole body was hot for him, aching, aching to be held, held down and filled. She put a hand over her face, pushing the thoughts away. Stop it. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
He was silent. She looked at him and saw that his face had gone blank. Nephrite's face was never blank. It scared her and the words rushed out of her mouth before she could stop them.
"I can't want you! Don't you understand? I can't want this!"
"Want what?" he demanded, the roughness of his voice surprising her. "The night? The dancing?" He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him again, chest to chest, hip to hip. "Or this?" Makoto closed her eyes, swallowing a moan as she realised she was not the only one having trouble with her body.
"That," she whispered.
"You shouldn't," he agreed, surprising her. "At least, you shouldn't want it if you're satisfied." His eyes caught her, held her gaze. "Are you satisfied?"
She tore herself away and went back inside, ignoring the feeling of disappointment when he didn't run after her. It was for the best, she told herself. It was all for the best
I originally picked swing dancing because I knew it was energetic and very physical but when I looked on YouTube, I realised that it was even more appropriate than I thought! For those who don't know what swing dancing is: Ultimate Lindy Hop Showdown (FAST!) As you can see, the men really do throw the girls around! I don't imagine Nephrite and Makoto would do all of the fancier moves, but they'd certainly try a few! As you can see, this is fast. Apologies to dial-up users. (4.26)
Here's a shorter video of a single couple from Canada (BC!), which is more sedate, but still shows you some of the moves. (2.33)
Title: Drinking in the Dark (sequel to Dancing on the Edge)
Theme: Emotional (OTP: Makoto/Nephrite)
Version: Manga (Crystal Tokyo)
"Why do you do this to yourself?" Zoisite played a riff on the piano.
"Do what?" Nephrite muttered.
"Pine after her."
"It's not exactly my choice, you know..."
"But it is your choice."
"Oh Christ, not your self-help crap again. I can't take it right now, okay?"
Zoisite shrugged, spreading his hands and moving into a proper piece of music. "Then stop. Stop doing it. She's with someone else."
Nephrite took another drink from his glass. "He doesn't deserve her," he said, his voice louder than he wanted it to be.
"Nobody's ever going to deserve her," Zoisite pointed out, his hands moving over the keys like dancers. The music he was playing gradually filtered through to Nephrite's brain.
You must remember this,
A kiss is still a kiss,
A sigh is just a sigh...
"Do me a favour, Sam, stop playing that song," he spat. "You know I hate it."
"Why? It's your song. It's the song you want to be true," Zoisite added and he laughed a little. "'Hearts full of passion, jealousy and hate...' How can you not love a line like that?"
"Singing it is one thing, living it is another." Nephrite tipped the bottle and listened to the slosh of the rum with a great deal more pleasure. "Not that you'd understand."
"Thank God," Zoisite answered, without rancour. The music paused for a moment, shifted, became sadder, lilting like a drunken waltz. Nephrite lifted his head. He knew this song as well; he loved this song.
Jazz in the basement bar,
The moon's on the rain,
I've drunk too much, spent too much,
Oh sweetheart, where are you tonight?
"Where indeed?" Nephrite muttered, staring into the rum as if Makoto's face would appear there. "In his arms, no doubt."
The door slammed open and they both looked up. Makoto was standing in the doorway.
AN: First verse comes from Time Goes By, the theme of Casablanca. The second comes from Moon on the Rain by Fairground Attraction. Neither belong to me.
Theme: Coffee and Cigar by ~Laaska (Shitennou: Image)
Version: Manga (Crystal Tokyo)
Rating: PG (for drug use *lol*)
Some would have called him a glutton, but that specifically applied to food and Jadeite was not just greedy about food. He was greedy about everything. He was greedy about life, because he’d been away from it for so long. He’d missed his five senses and he was going to use them as much as possible, preferably at the same time.
He contemplated the two objects before him and decided that he’d better have that dark, intense shock of espresso before he clouded his senses (literally and figuratively) with the cigar. He snipped the end off the cigar with the clippers, breathed in the scent of the tobacco, then put it down and picked up the coffee cup. The liquid glimmered, black, potent, filled with invisible energy.
“Scrying with coffee doesn’t work. Minako tried it once.”
He lifted his eyes to the doorway. She was standing there: red as blood, white as snow, black as ebony, the colours of desire, of his desire, ever constant. No matter which side he was on, his feelings for this woman remained the same. There was a kind of comfort in that, but he knew she wouldn’t see it that way.
“I’m not scrying, I’m savouring,” he answered. “But thank you for the advice.” Then he put his lips to the rim of the cup, ignoring the pain, and drank, his eyes fixed on hers, feeling the espresso rush down his throat and into his bloodstream. It was bitter but he didn’t mind bitter. He put the cup down after draining it and picked up the cigar.
Rei, predictably, wrinkled her nose. “You’re not really going to smoke that, are you?”
“Yes, I am,” he said, pulling out a box of matches. Lighters were easier but he liked the rasp of the match against the box, the flare as the sulphur caught fire, the smell of the smoke when the flame was gone. Not that he was obsessive or anything like that.
“Because I can.” He saw that she didn’t understand and tried to explain. “Look, I know that it’s bad for my body. I know that it can damage my lungs. But the point is that I have a body, that I have lungs to damage, that I can breathe this smoke in and hold it in my lungs. I won’t make a habit of it. But I need to remember what it feels like.” He snapped the match and lit the end of the cigar, watching it glow red. Then he put the other end of the cigar in his mouth and breathed in, feeling the smoke flow down and fill him. It was toxic. He nearly choked. He loved it.
He was alive.
Title: Jupiter Rising
Author: Starsea (sea_thoughts)
Theme: "Ashes" by Embrace
Now watch me rise up and leave
All the ashes you made out of me.
When you said that we were wrong,
Life goes on, just look at how long I believed.
— Embrace, Ashes
The stone shimmered in her palm, dark green, warm to the touch. She wondered if she could crush it. Probably. Nephrite splintered easily, she’d looked it up. But it would be just like him to cut if she did crush him. She tossed the stone on the bed.
“Come out, then. I know you’re in there. That’s why he gave you to me after all.”
The air shimmered and she watched him form. The process did nothing to her but when he looked up and into her eyes, she caught her breath. He was the same, exactly the same: the long, dark hair, fierce eyes, broad shoulders. Even in spirit form, she could see the physical strength which he had once possessed, which she had once loved. Memory in the body: hard shoulders in her hands, hot flesh against her thighs, sure strength piercing her – she breathed in. It was over; it had been over for a long time.
“Why did you call me?” he said, and his voice was the same as well.
“I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye?” There was a tremor in his voice. “Why?”
“I have to leave you behind,” she said, making herself look at him again, look at what might have been, what she had once longed for.
“Haven’t you already done that?” he asked, resentment burning beneath his tone. No, he would not accept this easily. That was not his way.
Makoto shook her head. “If I had, I wouldn’t be doing this,” she said, leaned forward and pressed her lips to where his lips were. The first shock was finding them solid, the second was finding them warm, as if he were truly alive. Electricity raced through her body and she knew why she had loved him. But it was in the past. He was in the past and she had to move forward into the future. She had to rise up out of the ashes.
When she pulled back, Nephrite’s eyes were darker than ever. “Jupiter,” he said, just one word, her title. Yet somehow, he made that one word contain everything he wanted to say.
She smiled at him, a proper smile.
Title: Taste of Victory
Theme: Tea (OTP: Makoto/Nephrite)
Genre: Comedy/True Drabble.
Version: Manga (Crystal Tokyo)
He thought for a moment. "Mm... is it Ceylon?"
"Excellent! And what about this?"
This time, the response was immediate. "Green Jasmine."
"Perfect." Makoto reached out and whipped the blindfold off, smiling. "Let's take a break."
Nephrite let out a sigh of relief. "Are you sure that you want me to do the tasting?" he asked, grabbing his water bottle. Other drinks were forbidden in case they corrupted his tastebuds.
"Absolutely! We both know that Jadeite-san will refuse to participate if he's going up against me. Don't worry, Nephrite. We're going to win this tea-tasting contest for sure!"
Title: Dutch Courage
Version: Manga (Crystal Tokyo)
Nephrite stared at her and blinked. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating, that the rum was finally beginning to take control. Then Zoisite stood up.
“Makoto-san?” he said, his voice confirming that she was real, not just some vision of desire.
Makoto barely looked at him. Her eyes were on Nephrite. Her face was pale and her cheeks were marked with tears. He could feel his heart start to pound, like a distant drum in his ears. He pushed himself up. “What happened?”
“It’s over.” Her voice, in contrast to her appearance, was strong. It was the voice that reassured him that she was all right, that nothing truly terrible had happened. Then the words hit, bursting in the air like fireworks and he drew a long breath.
She shrugged. “Many things… dancing with you was probably the last straw.”
Nephrite got up, only lurching slightly and pulled out a chair for her. She stared at him for a moment, then put a hand to her eyes. “Oh you…”
“What?” he said, looking at Zoisite for help, but Zoisite only smiled and began to play another tune on the piano.
“Even when you’re drunk, you’re trying to be nice to me,” Makoto said, sitting in the chair.
“Yeah, I’m so nice that I’ll even offer you my rum.” He tipped a little into the glass and she tossed it back without blinking or even coughing.
“I can’t stay here, though,” she said softly. “I told him to get packing… I have to make sure that he leaves.” She looked down at her hands. “But I’m afraid.”
“Afraid? You?” Nephrite smiled, aware that he probably looked like an idiot. “You’re not afraid of anything.”
“I’m afraid of going back and letting him persuade me to give our relationship one more chance.” She ran a finger up and down her shot glass, not meeting his gaze.
“I could come with you,” he volunteered, inspired by the image of battering the door down and threatening Susumu with bodily harm.
“I don’t think so,” said Zoisite, making them jump. “Not in your condition. If anyone’s going to accompany Makoto-san, it should be another woman. I think Ami-san is still up… working… I’ll go and tell her, if you wish.”
Makoto hesitated, looking at Nephrite. Then she nodded and Zoisite rose and left. “Be good,” he said before closing the door. Nephrite rolled his eyes. What did he think they were going to do?
“I can still come with you,” he said, looking back at Makoto. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her for very long. She magnetised him.
“The thing is… I’m not worried about you,” she explained, surprising him. “I’m worried about what Susumu will do…”
“Did you tell him about… what happened?” The words almost stuck in his throat. His heart pounded and he felt terrified. The silence yawned between them.
“No. Dancing with you was bad enough. Kissing you…”
“Why did you do that?” His voice was equally quiet. Her presence was both electric and sobering. Perhaps it was the memory of death that lingered between them, but he always woke up when she was around, his body sensed that it had to be at its best for her. Or maybe it wasn’t death at all, maybe it was that other great motivation for the human body.
Makoto licked her lips. “Because I wanted to see what it was like. You said that I used to taste like rain… well, I remember how you tasted back then. Warm… clear… like honey. But it was not just out of curiosity.” She looked at him finally. “I still care for Susumu, Nephrite. We’ve been together for a long time, it’s inevitable. But I don’t want him anymore. I feel no physical passion for him. I told myself that was just the consequence of being together for so long but… that’s not true. I wouldn’t have felt this pull towards you otherwise.” She pushed her glass away. “I’ve been pulled in two different directions: body and heart. I can’t let that happen anymore. In the end… I guess I have to take this chance. Even though it terrifies me. The thought of being with you… again… it’s scary. Can you understand that?”
“Sure, I do. I’ve always understood that, Makoto-san. But in return, I have to say that I’ve never been so glad that you’re the senshi of courage.” He reached forward, took her hand and kissed the back of it gently, heard her breathe in. “You’ve never been a coward and you never will be. That’s what I love about you.”
Her eyes widened, shining white in the dusk of the room. “Nephrite…”
The doors opened and Zoisite walked through with Ami, who hurried towards Makoto and gently hugged her around the neck. “I heard what happened,” she said softly, seeming oblivious to the atmosphere between her friend and the other man. “I’ll be happy to go back with you.”
Nephrite almost threw his glass at Ami. He could feel his arm muscles tensing, his fingers curling. He got up and moved away, out of temptation. Even now, with everything changing, he could still feel Makoto’s eyes on him, still feel that pull towards her. He wondered yet again if this were sane. Of course not: love had nothing to do with sanity. The alcohol thrummed in his veins like fire, giving the illusion of courage.
Yeah, that’s right. I have the illusion, she has the reality. She’s always the stronger, even though I know she doesn’t believe it.
“You’ll be here tomorrow, won’t you?”
He turned around at her voice. She was standing at the door, her eyes asking a different question. Nephrite took a deep breath and nodded.
Even if it’s fake… I can still use it… I know what true courage is, Makoto-san.
Title: Crowned With Stars
Theme: To You I Bestow by Mundy
Version: Manga (Crystal Tokyo)
And if you come back, I'll take you to the garden
We'll dance to an orchestra on the lawn
And we roll in the foggy dew
And dance with the ghosts upon
the dawn and on the dawn and on the dawn
Then you'll kiss me and tell me it's not broken
Kiss me and kiss me 'til I'm dead
See, I give you the stars from the bruised evening sky
And a crown of jewels for your head now
— To You I Bestow, Mundy
It was the end of summer and the days were still long, still shimmering, but no longer quite so sultry. They faded quietly away into purple twilight and then it was Ami’s birthday and it was time for the birthday party. Makoto made the cake, of course, decorated it in blue icing, with forget-me-nots, pink and blue, and a little silver symbol of Mercury on the very top. No candles, of course. There wouldn’t be enough room on the cake. They’d all forgotten their ages long ago, except, possibly, Minako.
The cake was almost gone now. She leaned on the table, looking at the slices left: blue icing on top, violet-flavoured cream in the middle, smeared all over the plate. Lights hovered around the edge of the garden, soft, little moons. Earlier there had been a choir, but now the band had taken over, playing songs she remembered from her childhood, when she’d had no idea of the power inside her, except that there was too much and it made her stand out and no child wants to stand out.
A hand came into her vision and picked up a slice, a strong hand, tanned brown from the summer, dark brown hairs trailing up the length of the arm. Makoto felt something pulse deep inside her. She didn’t have to turn and look at the face, she knew who it was. It was the warm presence in the air beside her, the sudden tension in the pit of her belly. It was the way he audibly took a bite and then leaned against the table beside her without saying a word.
She sighed and hugged herself, one hand cupping each elbow. “What’s ‘okay’?”
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” He bent forward, trying to see her face. “What’s wrong?”
Brown eyes met green and they looked at each other for a long moment. Then he picked up a napkin and wiped his fingers. “I owe you a dance.”
For a moment, she didn’t understand what he was talking about, then she had to grip the edge of the table. How could he remember that? Why would he remember that? Why did he have to bring it up now? “There’s no need.”
“Sure there is.” He took her hand. “Come on. Nobody’s watching. Nobody will say anything. And I want to dance with you.” He pulled and she followed, unresisting. Perhaps it was the atmosphere, or perhaps it was the change to be able to look at those broad shoulders again, feel his hand warm around hers, as if nothing had changed, as if no time had passed at all. He turned, pulled her against him, and they began to dance slowly in front of the bandstand.
“It’s all these couples,” she said, her voice surprising her. “I used to be one and now I’m alone again. I’m always alone.”
“You’ve got your friends.”
“You know what I mean, Nephrite. Yes, they’re my friends, but I can’t expect them to wait on the sidelines with me. Not that Minako ever would have, anyway, but now…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t need to complete the sentence. Minako and Kunzite had never bothered to hide their relationship. The way they looked at each other, it would have been rather pointless. In fact, Makoto often wondered how they’d managed to hide it the first time.
“You know I’d make it better for you, if I could,” he said, his hand moving down her back but not low enough for her taste. Why didn’t he just go ahead and touch her, like he wanted to? Why was he being so timid? As if she didn’t know. She smiled sadly.
“I know. You’d give me the moon.”
“No. I’d give you the stars… there are many more stars than there are moons and they last longer.” He stopped dancing and pointed up at the sky above them, filled with a million glittering points.
“And what would I do with stars?” she asked, feeling the smile widen.
“I’d make you a crown of them. So you’d look like…”
“Like a goddess,” he finished in a low voice.
“You say things but you never back them up.” She pulled free and walked away. She’d had enough of being complimented. How ironic, when once she would have followed a boy around if he’d said something nice to her. But words were easy, it was actions that were difficult, she’d found that out. She heard him calling her name but she didn’t turn around. The next thing she knew, he was grabbing her arm.
“Will you just stop and listen for a minute!”
“Why should I?” she demanded, glaring at him. “Talk, talk, talk, that’s all you do–!”
“Really? Then how about I stop talking?!”
Then she couldn’t speak anymore, or even think, because he was kissing her. He was kissing her this time and he was so warm, his lips tasted of wine and violets, and she could hear him murmuring something, her name. She couldn’t feel her legs anymore and pushed him off with weak arms, eyes closed, trying to remember where she was. She could feel his chest rise and fall beneath her palms and for a moment, she was seeing him lying above her and her hands were on bare skin — she shook her head and took her hands away. She couldn’t afford to let the past take over, not now.
“You wanted that. Don’t deny it,” he said, voice rushed.
“’Bout time you realised that,” she retorted, her voice just as breathless.
He put his hands on her shoulders again. “You’re sure about this, right? You have to be sure.”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” she said, almost laughing. “I was the one who did the killing last time.”
He grinned and pulled her into his arms again, dipping his head and gently biting her neck. “I have a death wish, what can I say?”
She laughed then, a shuddering husky laugh, and pressed herself right up against him. “Here, Nephrite. Now. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
He didn’t look shocked, he didn’t ask her if she was sure, he didn’t even pause. He simply began to pull his jacket off. Makoto watched him for a moment before she turned her attention to her own clothes. Her heart was pounding in anticipation.
It was about time.
Theme: “Those who restrain their desires do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.” — William Blake
Version: Manga (Crystal Tokyo)
She wasn't sure what was the most exciting part: being out in the open, where anyone might find them; seeing his face above her after all this time; or feeling him move inside her, hard and fast just like she wanted. She'd forgotten that she could make those small animal noises. It had been such a long time since she'd met a man who could hold her down like he could and perhaps that was the most exciting part: being held down. Being powerless. It was not at all PC, but she had to admit that it turned her on. She wouldn't like it all the time but after being the dominant one so long, it had been a release to let him take control, to feel the strength in those hands as her body shook and she cried out his name. Afterwards, weak as a kitten, she nestled into him and he held her close with one arm, silent. When he finally did speak, his voice was hoarse.
"We didn't have any..."
"It's all right," she sighed.
"Are you saying you regret it?" she demanded, looking up.
"No," he said immediately. "But maybe we should have waited until we were a little more prepared."
"Could you have waited?"
He laughed. "No."
She smirked. "Neither could I." She ran a hand over his buttocks, nice and firm, savouring their intimacy. "We'll be careful next time."
He raised an eyebrow. "So there's going to be a next time?"
She smacked him playfully on the arm. "There'd better be a next time! And I should warn you... I've got a strong libido." She glanced up through her eyelashes. "I can be quite demanding."
"You seemed pretty submissive just a few minutes ago," he commented and grinned at her blush.
"Don't think I'll be like that all the time! It's just been... there aren't many men who could hold me down like that."
He didn't say anything, just grinned, and she hit him again, because she was blushing too hard to say anything. He hugged her closer in response and kissed the chestnut waves of her hair.
"And I should warn you... I'm not exactly restrained."
She smiled, hidden in his shoulder. "I'd think there was something wrong if you were."
"Good. Then you won't mind me asking when we can get together again."
Makoto couldn't believe her ears for a moment. Then she spluttered and pushed him off. "You-!"
"What?" he demanded.
"You can't just..."
"I warned you."
"Just because we did... that... doesn't mean I'm going to lay down for you whenever you feel like it!" she retorted, picking her dress off the grass and shaking it out, torn between anger and amusement.
"That's not what I said. I asked when we could do it again. I'm giving you the option."
"So generous of you!" she muttered, pulling the straps over her shoulders once more.
He growled in frustration. "You're twisting my words!"
"Because I don't just want sex!" she snapped. "I want more than that, Nephrite, I thought you knew that!"
"I thought that was so obvious I didn't need to mention it," he retorted, leaping to his feet in one swift movement that made her stomach flip over. She stopped and looked at him, cautious.
"What, you think I'd sleep with you just for the heck of it? You think I did all this just for a quick shag? You know, I'm trying really hard not to take that personally, but-"
"It's not about you," she interrupted, putting her hair up into a ponytail once more.
"No." She sighed and turned to him. "It's more about the other men... not that there have been many..."
His face cleared. "Oh. The bastards. Right."
Makoto put a hand over her mouth, smothering a giggle, and tried to sound annoyed. "Nephrite!"
"What? They are." He slung his jacket around her shoulders. "And nothing you say can make me think anything different. Now... can I walk you back to your room for a chaste kiss goodnight?"
"You can walk me back to my room," she said, thinking that there would be more than a kiss if she got her way. And with him, she always got her way.