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Chiaki doesn’t bother being quick as she washes herself; She knows Kanata will be in the bath for a long while after she’s done.
When she’s done, Chiaki steps out of the bathroom connected to her bedroom to pick out some clothes. She digs through her drawers, looking for her softest pair of boxers and pants. She figures they’d probably end up sleeping together—in the same bed, she means— at some point, and she doesn’t want to irritate her skin. She throws on a graphic tee, too, one that Kanata had complimented her on a while ago.
When she’s all dressed, she makes her way downstairs, a towel around her neck to catch the water dripping from her still-wet hair. It takes all of twenty minutes for Kanata to come down, too, one of Chiaki’s larger tee-shirts hanging loosely over her body, her legs bare.
Her hair is still wet, getting Chiaki’s face wet too when she greets her with a kiss. Chiaki offers her the towel from her shoulders, and she uses it to ruffle her own hair dry. Kanata sits next to her on the couch, and Chiaki slips an arm around her waist.
“Do you want to ‘watch’ something?” Kanata leans her head on top of Chiaki’s shoulder.
“Mhm, I was gonna put on Kamen Rider.”
Kanata nods, and leans into her after she retrieves the television remote from the coffee table in front of the couch.
Somewhere along the line, after starting the series from the beginning, Chiaki ends up on her back with Kanata laying on her chest. She’s warm, in her arms, drawing circles on them as Chiaki holds her. Every once in a while, she grabs Chiaki’s attention to ask for a kiss.
Chiaki barely even realizes that she isn’t watching the show any more until Kanata’s hands are on her chest, bracing herself as she leans in for another kiss, soft and slow. She has a complete monopoly on her attention now, even though Chiaki would have dropped everything for her if she had just said the word.
Kanata only takes breaks from kissing her to breathe, soft gasps echoing between them. Chiaki almost forgets to breathe multiple times. Kanata’s weight straddling her waist, the feel of her thighs under her hands, her lips soft against hers all have Chiaki dazed. It’s not their first time being as close as they are now, but she can’t help but be amazed at how well the two of them fit together; They’re almost like two puzzle pieces, slow movements in perfect sync.
Kanata’s hands roam up to cup her cheeks, thumbing over the peak of her cheekbones. Chiaki doesn’t dare open her eyes again. She doesn’t think she could survive eye contact with her now, but she has to fight the urge to look at her when Kanata sighs into her, squirming a bit on her lap.
“Chiakiii…” her name is breathy when Kanata says it, floating up into the warmth around them. She shifts her weight back a little on her lap, and suddenly, Chiaki’s painfully aware of how wet she is, her boxers sticking to her almost unbearably. Her eyes fly open.
“Kanata!”
Silence. Chiaki’s heart is beating out of her chest and into her throat and she goes stiff. Kanata pulls away from her just far enough to get a good look at her face. She can’t get anything out for what feels like an eternity, Kanata’s eyes dark, and deep, and focused right on her.
“Do you. Maybe… want to….” She groans, embarrassed. She wants to bury her head in the couch cushion and scream as loud as humanly possible. Kanata waits, patient as ever. “Have sex? Maybe?”
It’s the obvious next step, but Chiaki’s still hesitant to suggest it. They haven’t done much more than kiss so far, and they don’t have to. She loves Kanata more than…. anything, really, and it would be really nice to not have to take a fifteen-minute-long cold shower to calm herself down before they go to sleep, but she doesn’t want anything to change between them afterward. Chiaki’s cheeks burn as she waits for a response.
“I would ‘love’ to, but, Chiaki…” Kanata tilts her head and hums, “You sound ‘nervous.’ Are you ‘sure’ you want to?”
“Yeah,” Her voice is wobbly. “I’m–” She gulps. “I want to, I’ll be fine.”
“I do not want you to be ‘fine,’ Chiaki, I want you to ‘enjoy’ yourself, too.”
Chiaki chews on her bottom lip for a moment.
“We can always just… stop if I don’t like anything.”
“You have to ‘promise’ to tell me, then, if you don’t ‘like’ it.” Kanata’s face is all scrunched up when she says it, and Chiaki wants to kiss the pout off her lips.
“Promise.” She nods.
“Good.” Kanata leans back in. “But if you ‘break’ this promise, I’m going to throw you into the cold, cold ocean and make you freeze ‘to death.’”
That makes Chiaki laugh; It’s not very intimidating, but she understands what she’s trying to say anyway. “Message received.”
Kanata shifts again, this time taking her weight off of Chiaki. “Should we go to your room? I do not ‘think’ you want to get the couch ‘dirty.’”
“Probably, yeah,” Chiaki laughs nervously, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “My parents would kill me if we did.”
“Here,” Kanata pushes herself up and off of her lap. Chiaki sits up, too, and takes the hand Kanata holds out to her as she stands up.
Kanata knows the way to her room like the back of her hand, and she doesn’t waste any time in leading the way there. She pushes the door open with her free hand, tugging Chiaki inside behind her. Chiaki flicks the light on, and almost forgets to close the door behind them. Even though her parents won’t be back for another few days, and it’s just the two of them for the time being, it still feels like the polite thing to do.
Chiaki takes a seat at the edge of her bed, on the side of it that isn’t pushed up against the wall. As she moves to sit next to her, her hand settling warm in Chiaki’s, Kanata’s eyes catch on the shelves across the room from the bed, which she’d been reworking earlier today.
“Ah, you changed the ‘poses’ of your figures,” She looks up at the top shelf, where a few of them are arranged to fit the likeness of a fight scene.
“Mhm,” Chiaki hums. “I was messing around with them earlier, and I was going to put them into their poses from this one promo poster from a few years ago, but I decided on doing the big fight scene from the end of season two, which isn’t my favorite, but I don’t have all of the figures I need to do the big battle from the beginning of season five—which I think I showed you a month or two ago—and–”
When she glances at Kanata again, the look on her face is tired, but still sweeter than anything Chiaki could do would warrant. “Sorry for rambling,” Chiaki looks down at her lap, opting to save herself from any more of that look she’s getting.
Kanata cups her cheeks in her hands, forcing Chiaki to face her again. “Don’t be, I ‘like’ hearing you talk.”
Now that she can’t look away, Chiaki’s gaze lands on Kanata’s eyes. She wouldn’t have looked away at all if she could have, if she didn’t get distracted by the warmth of their breath fanning out between them and the hand that leaves her cheek to creep up her thigh.
“Are you still ‘nervous?’” she asks, carding her fingers through Chiaki’s hair.
“A little bit, yeah,” Chiaki admits with a shaky laugh, cursing her sweaty palms.
Kanata must think for a bit then, because she’s silent, toying with the baby hairs at the nape of Chiaki’s neck. The touch helps, if only for a moment, giving her something less daunting to focus on.
“Can I ‘kiss’ you?” Kanata asks with a tilt of her head.
Chiaki answers before she even gets to pose the question. “Yes.”
That pulls a tiny laugh out of Kanata, who pulls her close regardless. Chiaki hums as she’s wrapped up in her arms, her lips as soft as they’d been just a few minutes ago.
Her hand fists the hem of Chiaki’s sleep shirt, pulling her ever so subtly closer.
“Hmm… come sit ‘properly,’” Kanata pulls away from the kiss and Chiaki lets go of her. She moves to sit fully on the bed, scooting toward the wall. She’s careful not to mess up Chiaki’s neatly-made duvet, and it’s a nice thought, but Chiaki doesn’t think the covers will stay so neat for long.
Kanata gets comfortable on her side, propping herself up with an elbow, and motions for Chiaki to follow her. She does, diligently, her head landing on the pillow right by Kanata’s elbow.
When she’s close enough to, Kanata leans down to kiss her. It starts off slow, quickly becoming messy as she presses further into her. The angle’s all wrong, too, but Chiaki wouldn’t change a thing about it. Kanata cups her cheek with a hand, and Chiaki’s own lands on her waist. She nips at Chiaki’s bottom lip, and lets her hand wander down to her hip. Chiaki barely gets any time to breathe, Kanata deepening the kiss with a slip of her tongue.
Chiaki does her best to kiss her back with just as much, if not more, enthusiasm. She presses up into her like it’s a competition, like it’s for a prize, the prize being all those little hums and gasps she’s drawing out of Kanata. When Kanata finally pulls away to breathe, Chiaki leans up, following her, feeling a bit like a lost puppy. Breathless as she is, Kanata still laughs at her.
“Calm ‘down,’” Kanata pants. She’s nearly entirely on top of Chiaki now, legs tangled up in hers. She dips her head into the bend of her shoulder, taking a second to catch her breath. Chiaki doesn’t bother. No amount of fresh air will make her coherent again.
“Yeah,” Her voice is strained, and she really has to work to get the words out. She’s nearly overheating, too, and she’s sure her face and shoulders are bright pink, the same way they get when she’s out in the sun for too long. The hand that she doesn’t have resting on her hip slides up Kanata’s side and over her back.
Chiaki absentmindedly thumbs over the screen-printed design on the back of her (Chiaki’s, technically, but if she asked, she'd let Kanata keep it for the rest of her life) shirt, waiting for her to be ready to move on. Or continue kissing her, that would be nice, too.
When she’s ready, Kanata slides her hand down from her cheek to tug on Chiaki’s shirt. “Do you want to take ‘this’ off?”
Ah.
In her haze, it hadn’t really occurred to Chiaki that they’d probably end up naked, but this isn’t a bad realization at all. Chiaki nods, and Kanata gets off of her. She slips her tee off, and throws it towards her dresser. She didn’t bother putting on a bra or undershirt when she got dressed, and the air of her room is cold against her bare chest and shoulders.
When she turns back to Kanata, she’s on her back. She motions for Chiaki to come closer, and she obliges.
Chiaki lays on her side next to her and she’s pretty sure Kanata’s trying to pull her in for another kiss, but instead, she goes straight to her neck.
Her hand lands on Chiaki’s chest, sending warmth through her entire torso. Her skin burns, and the noise she lets out as she latches onto her pulse is embarrassing to say the least. Kanata doesn’t say anything about it, though, so Chiaki doesn’t say anything either.
Kanata’s breath is hot over her neck when she pulls away and trails her mouth down her shoulder, kissing the freckled skin there. Her hands are cold now, as they flutter across Chiaki’s chest and down to her stomach, and they send a shiver down her spine.
Kanata kisses her again, finally, and she relishes in the feeling of her lips, plush, and soft, and perfect, and god, Chiaki wishes she didn’t need oxygen to stay alive. She sighs into the kiss, willing the thought away, and lets Kanata take her hand in hers, guiding it to the hem of her shirt.
“Help me?” She says, quiet, into the space between them. If she wasn’t already overheating, Chiaki thinks she definitely would be now. She nods.
Kanata shifts, and Chiaki uses the slack that creates in her shirt to tug it up, toward her chest. She ignores the fact that she’s getting progressively more naked and everything that entails, and slips the shirt over Kanata’s head when she raises her arms.
She settles back onto her side, and Chiaki finally lets herself look at her. When she does, she gets a little dizzy from all the blood in her body fighting against itself, trying to decide whether to go north, to her cheeks, or south, and settle in her gut. Among other places.
Most of it ends up in her cheeks, and she can feel them flush as she lays next to Kanata.
She looks soft–That’s not quite right. Chiaki knows she’s soft, from years of working and living together, she’s just never gotten the opportunity to see the proof of it in person before–all over, but especially where her panties cinch the fat of her hips and her bra straps dig into her shoulders. There’s a bit of flowery lace that wraps around the sides and front of the panties, and it looks delicate, like it could fall apart if she pulled on it too hard—Not that she’s thinking of doing that.
She doesn’t miss the way her panties are dampened slightly, either, not with the way the whole ensemble is just so slightly see-through. Chiaki’s cheeks burn even harder. Her eyes drag upward nonetheless, and she can see that her bra is hemmed with the same thin lace as the other half of the matching set. The edge of the lace is scalloped there, and there’s a joke somewhere in all of that, but her brain isn’t working well enough to figure out exactly what it is. She looks up quickly, though, to save herself from the embarrassment of being caught staring.
When Chiaki’s eyes land on Kanata’s face again, she’s looking at her, her chest and her shoulders, but she takes a second to bring her gaze up to meet her. Her cheeks rise in a soft smile, and Chiaki’s suddenly much too aware of how dry her throat is.
She offers Kanata her best smile back, but it must look a little funny, because Kanata’s cheeks lift and she laughs.
“I won’t ‘bite,’ Chiaki.”
Chiaki swallows hard. “I know.”
“Then come here,” Kanata takes her hand again and pulls it towards her. Chiaki’s arm, and shoulder, and eventually the rest of her body, follow. She has to prop herself up on her knees and an elbow as Kanata pulls her over herself.
The view Chiaki gets when she reorients herself is nothing but heaven-sent; She’ll have to remind herself to thank every single god that’s out there later, even the ones from her Tokusatsu shows that aren’t really gods but are still really powerful.
Kanata pulls her down with a hand on her cheek which slips down to her chin, and Chiaki lets her. She licks at Chiaki’s lips and into her mouth. Chiaki shivers, her knees going a little weak. She sinks down, careful not to lean too hard on Kanata’s chest so she can– y’know– keep breathing. Her legs end up between Kanata’s, and she hooks a heel over her leg, effectively holding Chiaki in place. She isn’t really, but Chiaki would have to be dragged away screaming to part from her now.
Kanata gasps so beautifully when their hips meet, and Chiaki nearly forgets to breathe when she arches her back and pushes her chest up into her, the lace on her bra scratchy between them.
They’re so close, touching in so many places, that Chiaki nearly loses track of Kanata’s hands until she feels one of them– no, both of them– slip down to grab her ass. She tenses up on reflex, and Kanata makes to draw her hands back up, pulling away to murmur a quiet, “Sorry,” into the space between their lips.
“Don’t be,” Chiaki gives a more chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You can…. Keep your hands there,” her voice softens, “If you’d like.”
She can’t see her face all that well, but Chiaki can feel the way Kanata’s cheeks push up into a tiny smile. She hums, low and drawn out, and brushes her hands down along her spine as she returns them to where they once were.
Kanata grabs a handful of the flesh, not quite kneading her ass over her pajama pants. Chiaki dips her head into the crook of her neck, breaths deepening. She tugs her close, and she gives in to the urge to roll her hips into hers, slow and sweet.
Her neck is right there, in front of her, as Kanata arches her back into her again, and she presses a messy kiss to her jawline. She sucks a little bit in some spots, not too hard though, so she doesn’t leave marks too dark.
Kanata’s breath hitches and she gasps, one of her hands leaving Chiaki’s ass to grip her shoulder, holding her close. Her legs slip open a little more, giving Chiaki more room between them.
When they finally part, Kanata looks as disheveled as Chiaki feels. Her hair sticks to her forehead a bit from sweat, most of it splayed across the pillow beneath her. Her face is flushed pink, and her jaw is littered with splotches of pink and red, inspiring a strange kind of pride in Chiaki.
Kanata smiles at her, and it makes her heart flutter. It shouldn’t, and it makes Chiaki feel a little stupid because he’s known her for years now, yet this happens every single time. She smiles back, feeling more shy than she should.
“Chiakiiii…” Kanata’s hand drags up her back. Her voice is breathy, her chest still heaving from exertion and arousal. “I ‘want’ to take my bra off.”
“Mhm?” she hums. Now that it’s been a minute, her lips are kiss-bitten and slightly swollen, and she wants to make them even redder, even more swollen.
“Chiaki? I ‘need’ you to sit up.”
“Huh?”
Suddenly, Chiaki’s cheeks are being pinched, not too hard, but hard enough to bring her back down to earth. “Chiaki! Sit up.”
Chiaki winces, pushing herself up. “Sorry, sorry.”
“I’m not ‘angry’,” Kanata watches as she swings her leg back over her and settles into the bed to her right. She sits herself up, turning to face her torso away from Chiaki. “Help me, please?”
Chiaki looks down at the back of her bra. The straps criss-cross across the back, a bigger clasp under it holding the whole thing together. Her fingers don’t work as well as she'd like them to, but after a long moment of fiddling and fumbling, Chiaki manages to undo them.
“Thank you,” Kanata shrugs her bra off. Chiaki hums as if to say, you’re welcome, but the second Kanata turns back around, her bra now tossed off to the side with their other clothes, the hum turns into a strangled sort of sound.
Kanata looks just a little nervous now, her mouth turned into a subtle frown, and Chiaki scrambles for words. Her mouth gapes open. Then closes. Then opens again. Her cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and she’s sure she’s never been wetter in her entire life.
“Chiaki….” Kanata’s brows furrow, but her expression quickly turns fond. She laughs, and suddenly Chiaki feels much less embarrassed about the whole thing. “You ‘look’ like a fish.”
Chiaki laughs, too, her cheeks burning. It takes everything in her to keep her eyes up, on her face. Kanata sighs, and leans in to cup one of her cheeks in her hand.
“Sorry.” Chiaki sets a hand over Kanata’s and groans, embarrassed. She closes her eyes and lets the soft touch calm her down a little.
“You’re really pretty, you know that?” Chiaki peeks an eye open to see Kanata smiling shyly.
“‘Thank you,’” Kanata leans in close, her hand slipping around to rest on Chiaki’s neck, pulling her in too.
Chiaki hums into her mouth as she kisses her, her hand coming up to rest on Kanata’s waist.
Kanata quickly deepens the kiss with a lick, and then another, tugging Chiaki down to lay on top of her. Chiaki follows her down, propping herself up on one elbow and letting her other hand trail up Kanata’s stomach.
Her skin is soft and smooth, and Chiaki gets carried away gently kneading into it.
Kanata’s hands leave her face. They smooth over the muscle of her shoulder and thumb at the nape of her neck, leaving burning prints in their wake. Not even a moment later, her hands find their way down to the waistband of Chiaki’s pajama pants.
“‘Take’ yours off, and I’ll ‘take’ mine off?” Kanata gives the elastic an idle snap.
Chiaki takes a moment to process the request, but once she has, her face flushes red. She nods.
Chiaki has to get off the bed and stand up to kick her pants and boxers off, doing so faster than she could say, “The red flames are the proof of justice! Burning bright red, the sun of life! Ryusei Red, Chiaki Morisawa!" which is really saying something, because her pants get caught on her knees and ankles and she nearly trips over thin air multiple times.
She makes it back to the bed eventually, ignoring the soft chuckle Kanata lets out.
The bed creaks under her weight as she settles next to Kanata, and it’s then, as they come to be face-to-face, that she begins to feel so much more… exposed.
But…It isn’t a bad feeling at all, not when Kanata is just as bare as she is.
A reassuring hand lands on her cheek, pulling her into an open-mouthed kiss and Kanata’s leg slips between hers while she’s distracted by the tongue peeking into her mouth. Skin on skin on skin from head to toe sends a heat all the way down to Chiaki’s shoulders.
Kanata pulls her even closer, somehow, with a hand on her waist. Before she can fully process the warm touch, Kanata hefts herself over her.
The pressure is nice and calming, and Chiaki finally lets herself relax fully. Her hands come up to cup Kanata’s cheek and rest on her shoulder to ground herself, to remind herself that this is real.
As Kanata settles on top of her, between her legs, the stretch of a muscle in her thigh reminds her of the heat that had long settled deep in her gut.
Something—Kanata’s thigh—brushes against her core and she yelps. She’d feel a lot more stupid about it if Kanata didn’t kiss her then, drinking the noise straight from her lips.
Kanata spreads her own legs, bringing their hips together and oh, Chiaki gets what she’s been trying to do now.
For a moment, it seems like the heat between them is the only thing in the world, the only thing to ever exist. Chiaki wants to savor the moment, savor the slow drag of their skin, but she can’t help the way her legs tense, pushing her pussy up into Kanata’s.
She holds her tight but Kanata manages to pull away a little, at least enough to get a good look at Chiaki’s face.
Her cheeks are flushed brighter than Chiaki’s ever seen, and she looks to be searching for something in Chiaki’s eyes for a moment or two—Chiaki hopes she finds what she’s looking for because she’s pretty sure there’s absolutely nothing but Kanata, Kanata, and Kanata inside her brain right now.
“Is this ‘okay?’”
Kanata kisses the corner of her mouth when she nods, breathless.
“Can I ‘move?’”
“Yes, please.”
Chiaki cranes her neck in order to get a proper kiss, and Kanata laughs at her enthusiasm. The sound lodges a funny feeling in Chiaki’s chest—it’s nervous and excited all at once, and thrums in her ears unhelpfully.
She resigns herself to holding Kanata close, grabbing onto every part of her she can get her hands on, until her hips roll down into Chiaki’s once more.
Once, and then again, her folds rub slick against Chiaki’s own, swiping over her clit on each downstroke, and it’s perfect.
Chiaki doesn’t think it could be any better until Kanata kisses her, too, and she loses any semblance of shame—that is, if she even had any before. She whines, god, she whines into Kanata’s neck as she slides their hips together. Chiaki clutches her back, holding her tight even as she moves faster and faster.
Chiaki’s blood pounds in her head as they rock back and forth together. Her heart beats like a drum, up and out of her chest, and Kanata’s so close she’s sure she’s able to feel it like it’s her own.
Kanata gasps into her mouth, quiet enough that she wouldn’t have heard it if the two of them weren’t just inches away from each other.
Every single part of her—her flesh under Chiaki’s hands, her gasps into the hot air between them, her chest pushed right up against Chiaki’s—is just about perfect. It’s almost overwhelming, and Chiaki can’t keep her thoughts about it to herself.
“I love you,” It comes out more like a whine, and a little bit babbly, but Kanata doesn’t seem to care. In fact, it only serves to spur her on. She doesn’t say it back, but she doesn’t need to, not when Chiaki can feel her love in each quick thrust of her hips and each soft huff and sigh she lets out into the crook of Chiaki’s shoulder.
It doesn’t take long at all for Kanata to falter, her pussy throbbing against Chiaki’s. Her breaths come between gentle hiccups now, her body trembling like Chiaki has never seen before.
She wails into the pillow next to Chiaki’s head as her hips stutter to a stop. Her muscles tense under Chiaki’s hands and something—probably her slick—runs wet between them and down along Chiaki’s ass.
Did she just come? Chiaki doesn’t have much to compare the shaking of her body to, but she’s pretty sure she did.
God, it just makes this whole thing seem even more surreal; If you’d told Last-Week-Chiaki she’d be naked and alone with the girl she’d decided to love for the rest of her life, she wouldn’t have believed you (and high school Chiaki would have flushed unbelievably bright, dismissing the idea of her liking (loving) any woman—let alone her unit-mate, the Ryusei Blue— as absolute nonsense).
After a long moment, Kanata collapses on top of her, their legs still intertwined and hips still pushed together.
With a heavy sigh, Kanata huffs, “Sorry,”
“It’s okay.” Her waist fits perfectly in Chiaki’s hands as she settles in close to her.
“Mm,” Kanata hums into her neck, “I won’t ‘leave’ you like ‘this,’ just ‘give’ me a moment.”
Chiaki hums right back, drawing circles over Kanata’s waist with her thumbs. She can feel her breathing begin to slow, her chest gently rising and falling. Just before she gets to the point of seeming fully relaxed, Kanata pushes herself up.
The cold air of the room replaces Kanata’s heat as she sits up, readjusting her bangs so they don’t cover her face anymore. She looks even prettier now, her hair messy and skin flushed down to her chest.
Chiaki gets distracted tracing her gaze over the stretch marks on her stomach as Kanata sits and thinks for a moment, and she’s still distracted when she finally speaks again.
“Chiaki….” Her hand rests on Chiaki’s thigh, and she registers through her still-burgeoning desire that it’s much warmer than usual. “Can I ‘eat’ you ‘out?’”
Her words take a second to hit Chiaki, but once they do, they hit her like a bag of bricks.
“Sure,” Chiaki’s agreement comes out wobbly—partly in wonder, partly with nerves—but Kanata ignores that in favor of kissing her again. Eventually, she breaks the seal of their lips and presses quick kisses to her body that trail down, down, dancing across her chest and circling around her belly button, her lips finding a new home between her legs.
Her hands follow suit, resting up by her knees, ever-so-subtly spreading them apart.
She looks up for just a second, looking for guidance, or approval maybe, and Chiaki nods.
That must be exactly what Kanata is looking for, because she finally makes contact, hot and wet. It sends a jolt up her spine, and she has to resist the urge to clamp her legs shut around Kanata’s head. Kanata licks once, twice, and it leaves Chiaki burning, her eyes fluttering shut, until… it all stops.
Kanata moves back away, peppering kisses over the insides of her thighs. She nips at the tendon at the crease of her thigh and torso, smiling against her skin at the sound Chiaki lets out. She licks over it, almost like she’s apologizing, but her cheeky smile makes Chiaki feel like she’s not sorry at all.
She moves back down the length of Chiaki’s thigh, pressing a kiss to the faded scars there. Once, then twice again, Kanata licks over skin less tender—or maybe more, judging by the way the touch makes Chiaki’s stomach do backflips.
The way her lips, plush as ever, suck bruises into her thigh is even worse for her; She’s not harsh at all, but the gentle suction sends heat blooming down the rest of her leg and up to her core. When she pulls away, Chiaki’s skin is left damp and flushed a rich red. She’s at it again not even a moment later, inching closer to the crease of Chiaki’s thigh.
And all good things come in threes, so Chiaki waits and watches as she places one final hickey even higher up her thigh.
Back between her legs, Kanata dances around where Chiaki really wants her, no, needs her. She isn’t sure if she can take any more of this, not when her stomach is churning and her head is spinning.
“Kanata…..” She breathes. Kanata pauses, looking up at her through thin lashes. “Hurry uppp…”
Kanata laughs at the pout on her face, or maybe the flush on her cheeks. “Don’t be so ‘impatient.’”
“Please?” Chiaki figures it’s worth a try. She watches as Kanata feigns deliberation, leaning her head against her thigh.
“Hmm… if you ask so ‘nicely,’ I ‘can’t’ say no.”
Chiaki only gets a moment of silent celebration before, with eyes closed, Kanata licks a thick stripe up her cunt, parting her folds to lap at her clit.
It’s probably the hottest thing she’s ever seen, and might come to rival the best she’s ever felt. Kanata looks like she’s having the time of her life, licking and sucking like she’ll never get to taste Chiaki ever again.
She has more enthusiasm than Chiaki ever would have expected from her, and the fact that Chiaki of all people is bringing that out of her makes pride swell in her chest.
Kanata kisses her folds so sweetly, tonguing inside of her. Chiaki can’t keep her head from falling back into her pillow with a gasp at the feeling, clutching at the duvet that got scrunched up underneath her in all their movement.
Face just about buried in her pussy, Kanata says something she can’t really hear, but now all Chiaki can think about is the way the vibrations of her throat travel down into her tongue, making her leg tremble like a leaf in the wind. Kanata gives her thigh a rub she must mean to be soothing, but the pressure doesn’t help at all.
It takes more strength than Chiaki thinks she has to control her hips, to keep them from pushing up into Kanata. Feet planted on the bed for leverage, she can’t help but give them a little roll, if only to sate her burning need for more.
She doesn’t think the burning heat will ever end until Kanata doubles down, like she can sense her impatience.
Chiaki’s chest heaves as the feeling mounts, pushing her higher, feeling better than anything she could have ever managed on her own.
Suddenly, with no warning save for the slow pulse of her cunt, her head goes totally blank and her whole body tenses. Kanata holds her through it with both hands on her thighs. She never stops moving her tongue, though, the suction on Chiaki’s clit constant all the way through her orgasm.
It feels like it lasts forever, too, consuming her, burning her up from the inside out, gasping breaths only fueling the fire.
When her heart calms, her body feels like it’s been melted into a suspiciously Chiaki-shaped puddle. She’s not fully through the aftershocks when Kanata emerges from between her legs, looking as rustled-up as Chiaki feels.
The lower half of her face is drenched—the whole thing flushed bright— but Chiaki doesn’t care. With one heavy, tired hand hooked around the back of her neck, she pulls Kanata into a kiss.
She regrets it immediately—not because she didn’t want to kiss her, though, but because the feeling of her own slick rubbing off onto her chin makes her want to peel her skin off and replace it completely.
She pulls away squirming.
“Sorry, sorry,” Kanata wipes at her chin with her thumb. Head still hazy, Chiaki wonders if she’s some kind of witch, because the way she feels better after just a touch of her hand has got to be magic.
“‘Let’ me go ‘wash’ my face,” Kanata sits up again.
Chiaki’s eyes follow her as she walks to the door of her bathroom. She still feels like a melted puddle, though she’s starting to solidify into something like jello.
She watches, still, as Kanata returns to her, looking a little more refreshed. Her weight makes a dip in the bed when she lays down again, slipping an arm around Chiaki’s waist.
Her skin is as cold as always, despite the healthy flush of her cheeks and shoulders. It tries to bring Chiaki back to room temperature but she doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to come back down quite yet.
Instead, she decides to lose herself in the feeling of their lips coming together once more.
When their kiss slows to a stop, she can’t take her eyes off of Kanata’s.
She didn’t think it was possible to fall deeper in love with her but somehow, here she is in a freefall. She doesn’t know if this feeling will ever end, and she doesn’t know if she wants it too.
She presses a final, fleeting kiss to the corner of Kanata’s mouth, letting her racing heart rest and her lungs slow. Her brain is still clocked out, though, and there’s no sign of it coming back to man her register.
That’s not too big a deal, though. She doesn’t need a brain just yet.
Maybe she won’t for a while, not when all she really needs to feel, to think about, are the wandering hands finding their way to her hips and cheeks, turning her to face the girl lying next to her.
“Do you still ‘want’ to watch ‘Kamen Rider?’”
Aaaaaaaaand she’s back. “Can we?”
Kanata laughs. “‘Any’ time.”
It takes little more than the sound of her voice and a kiss pressed to her cheek for Chiaki to regain her bearings, at least enough to stand up and retrieve her boxers and pajama pants from the floor. She watches as Kanata throws on one of their tee-shirts, forgoing her own underwear.
Bouncing with more energy than she ought to have, Chiaki leads the way back downstairs.
They weren’t upstairs long enough for the TV to turn off by itself so it sits, idle, the screensaver bouncing from corner to corner.
After a moment of hurried searching, Kanata passes her the remote from where she’s settled on the couch.
“It was between the ‘cushions,’” she says, sheepish, like Chiaki would have blamed her even if it was her fault.
Chiaki clicks the television back on, sinking into the couch next to Kanata. Their hands find each other as Kanata scoots closer, fingers interlacing like they were made to do just that.
The room is cold—the air conditioner is on, she knows that much, and she’s half-dressed, too—so Chiaki doesn’t know why she’s so warm. It might be the girl hanging off her arm, just maybe.
It’s fine. Chiaki will deal with some extra body heat if it means she gets to sit hip-to-hip and hand-in-hand with her favorite girl, basking in her love.
It’s well worth it, in the end. In fact, Chiaki doesn’t think today could have been any better.