S-CRY-ed Fan Fiction ❯ Crash into Me ❯ Just to Be Close to You ( Chapter 5 )

Warning: This story contains frank sexual content, so please don't proceed if that sort of thing offends you. While there's a lot of plot development in this chapter, there's also some heavy mature stuff here so please heed the rating. You've been warned. And FYI, the hard core lemon is in the next chapter (::coughing behind cloud of smoke:: where did everybody go?)

 

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just stop toying with me…

 

A/N and additional disclaimer: It has been brought to my attention that Mimori's little swoon at the beginning of the last chapter vaguely reminded someone of some sort of bizarre trend she'd heard of where young people were purposefully blacking out to get additional euphoria from sex or a drug high. This story in now way meant to communicate such a situation and neither this story nor the author endorses or condones such actions in any way. The loss of consciousness was meant to be accidental and was merely a plot device to drive the story forward. ::sighs, rolls eyes:: Come on people- don't be stupid. Passing out on purpose? Just say `No'…

 

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Crash into Me

 

Chapter 5- Just to Be Close to You

 

 

Receiving his answer, Mimori simply blinked. That was all she could manage; the rest of her body stubbornly froze in place as she tried to process the implications of his refusal. He wanted a clean break. He didn't want any bittersweet reminders of the torch she carried for him once she was gone. Or perhaps, after their passionate grapple, he didn't trust himself not to change his mind about sending her away once he'd been with her. In any case, he had said `no' and now she was going to have to pretend like it didn't bother her. She would have to find some way to carry herself with gracious dignity until he left, which, if God had any sympathy left for her, would be in the next 3 seconds. Then she could lock her door and cry until she retched. Searching for the appropriate words for the surreal situation, she could only mutter a weak `I see…'

 

However, Ryuho adamantly shook his head, “I don't think you do. It's not as simple or poetic as you make it sound, Mimori. No matter what you say, we can't spend just one night together and then part ways as if everything is fine. If you leave this island like that you'll eventually grow to despise me, ultimately tainting any fond memories you might have been trying to create. You can deny it all you want, but we both know it's true.”

 

Guilt flashed in her eyes. She opened her mouth to reply but no sound came out. Ryuho simply continued, “You say that you finally understand that I care about you, yet you assume I'd put you through that kind of heartache just to get you out of HOLY and away from me…”

 

She silently dropped her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. “…and normally you would have been right.”

 

Deep chocolate pools floated up once again, confusion prominent in her withered expression. Still, he pressed forward, needing to clarify his words. “Any other time, if you had told me you would leave if asked, I would have selfishly insisted on your immediate departure, even knowing you wanted to stay here to be with me…”

 

“…But after tonight, I can't keep denying these intense feelings for you, Mimori. And I'm not exaggerating when I say intense- you're there in my dreams at night. Even in the middle of the day- when I close my eyes you're image is waiting for me. Just the mere mention of your name sends me to total distraction, to the point where I've become obsessed with trying to get you out of my head. I've been fighting it for so long, even insisting that these feelings didn't exist. I thought making you leave was the answer to finally banishing them once and for all.”

 

“Ryuho…” Fresh tear drops traced new trails down Mimori's blushing cheeks. “I didn't know… I knew you cared, but… I don't understand; what are you saying?”

 

“I'm saying that tonight I finally realized that sending you away won't fix anything. I'm not going to ask you to leave, Mimori. I can't let you; not like this… not for me.”

 

She wrinkled skeptical brows at him. “But… I thought it would be easier… if I were gone.”

 

He shook his head again, “I know. But now I realize I'd only obsess about you in your absence. And it would be selfish of me- trying to get rid of you. The work you do here, it's important. I've seen your research; the Commander says you've made more advances than the rest of your department combined. And people care for you; you've made more friends in the few weeks that you've been here than I've made in all the years I've been at HOLY. Making you leave would be doing a disservice to the whole organization.”

 

She searched the floor in front of her as if answers might be hiding in the pattern of the carpet before finally meeting his gaze. “So… you think I should stay…”

 

He swallowed hard before pressing forward, “Mimori, I need you to stay. And not just for HOLY, but for me. Because I was wrong… wrong about so many things… but I think… I think you could be the one to help set things right for me, help me turn it around before it's too late. I have no right to ask you to save me. If you stay with me I can almost guarantee that sooner or later I'll say or do the wrong thing and I'll end up hurting you. But I have to ask, because I don't think I can change without you.”

 

“I… I don't know what to say…” It wasn't real. She was dreaming. Any minute she'd wake up and have to peel her tired face off of her desk in the lab. There was no way that Ryuho was sitting on her apartment floor looking absolutely edible and telling her that not only did he not want her to go but that he needed her to stay with him. Her brain was playing the sickest, cruelest joke on her ever.

 

Ryuho misinterpreted the bewildered expression on her face, thinking that she doubted his sincerity. Desperation shot through every nerve- he needed to make her understand. If she backed away now… Knuckles turned white as fists clenched tight at his sides and he shook his head in a vain search for clarity. “This is coming out all wrong! Because the most important thing I want you to understand is that I want to be with you, Mimori! I want to pull you into my arms, kiss you senseless and then carry you into your bedroom to spend the rest of the night becoming intimately familiar with every naked inch of you! I don't want you to think that I'm here only because of a favor or out of pity. I don't want anything hanging over our heads- no bargains, no conditions, no stipulations. I just want you. I want to make love to you, Mimori, not because you asked me to, but because I've wanted you ever since you first walked into this building all those weeks ago.”

 

Tiny lights flashed in front of her eyes and Mimori dug nails into the carpet as if her ceiling might swap places with her floor. “Oh, God…” more tears streamed down her cheeks and she lurched forward. Ryuho instantly closed the distance between them on his hands and knees, grabbing her sides just as he had earlier after their fateful collision. Once more she found her cheek resting in the crook of his neck.

 

“Mimori! Are you alright?” She heard his voice as if from a distance, and then felt his hand gently lift her chin until she was looking up at his worried face.

 

“Is this real? Are you really here, saying these things to me? Telling me you want me? You need me? I've dreamt about this moment…” Scenes from every corny romance flick she'd ever seen flashed in her head at her own clumsy words, but she couldn't help it- it was exactly how she felt and she expected reality to crash back down upon her at any moment.

 

Relief flooded Ryuho's features and he smiled down at her, relieved that she actually believed him. “I'm really here…” When she closed her eyes he softly grazed a kiss over one eyelid, her wet lashes tickling the skin beneath his mouth. “…I really do need you…” He kissed her other lid, “…I really do want you…” He brushed his lips down her cheeks, tracing the trails of her tears, “…and I really want to kiss you once I'm sure you won't faint on me again.”

 

She smiled warmly at him and leaned up towards his mouth, “I'm not going anywhere.”

 

Meeting her half way, he whispered against her lips, “I'm counting on it,” just before sealing their mouths together.

 

Their renewed kiss was less urgent but just as passionate as their first, each wanting to demonstrate their desire for the other through their connection. Ryuho settled his arms around her waist, spreading wide palms against her back and Mimori draped her elbows over his shoulders, one hand quickly tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck. Tongues tagged and wrestled in a delightful stalemate and they chuckled into each others mouths. There was a sense of relief and happiness that surged between them, charging the air around them as they delved into each other once more.

 

Sensing Mimori's waning breath yet again, Ryuho reluctantly broke the suction between them to trail kisses from the corner of her lips to her jaw line. As he suspected, she immediately began taking huge gulps of air, panting against him. Meanwhile, he used his time away from her lips to occupy himself with the enchanting curve of her neck, which was coincidently thrown back in her quest for oxygen. He searched for her pulse point with the tip of his tongue and then nipped and licked at it playfully once he found it. He felt her moans of approval vibrate against her throat and his lips and wondered what other noises he could coax from her. He traced a path down to her shoulder, alternately licking and sucking as he experimented with different pressures and combinations that might make her gasp in delight or unconsciously pull on his hair.

 

He kept bending over her until his nose was buried deep in her collar; he finally met with enough resistance to want the over-shirt gone and dragged his hands away from her back to peel the too-large smock off of her. Needing to have that much more of her skin touching him, Mimori hastily pulled her arms back and shrugged out of the garment, puddling it on the floor behind her.

 

However, when she reached her arms up to reclaim their former resting spot on his shoulders Ryuho cracked opened his eyes and caught a telltale flash of color in his peripheral vision. Lids snapped open and he froze, garnet orbs honed in on the pale purple band discoloring her upper arm. A large palm-sized circle of battered skin stretched across her bicep, from which several long parallel lines extended to wrap around the back of her arm. His handprint… A quick glance showed an identical mark on her other arm and his guilty appendages instantly sprang off her body, as if her skin had caught fire.

 

Mimori felt him release her and immediately searched for what had spooked him. Tracing the path of his transfixed eyes, she finally saw the stark bruises standing in high relief against her pale arms and reflexively crossed them to hide the splotches beneath her hands. However, this only exacerbated things when she settled a deep purple wrist against her chest, that mark appearing even darker and angrier than the others. Memories of their explosive argument from earlier hit them both at once and Ryuho fell back on his butt, knocked over by shocked disbelief.

 

He had hurt her, had put violent hands on her- something he never thought he was capable of doing. Now he couldn't see anything beyond those dark marks marring her porcelain skin; he simply stared at them, shaking his head.

 

However, Mimori would not let him cycle into self-deprecation. Crawling between his open legs, she leaned forward on her knees and caught his head between gentle hands, forcing him to make eye contact. “Ryuho, look at me. I know you didn't mean it…”

 

His face was twisted in a look of tortured remorse. “Mimori, I'm so sorry… So long as I live I will never, ever-”

 

“-Shh… don't. I know… It's already forgotten,” and before he could protest any further she rose up and kissed his forehead, and then pulled his head down onto her chest. Mimori rocked him like a child, quietly shushing him and running soothing fingers through his hair. She felt his nose settle in the cleft of her breasts and then noted as a spot of wetness dripped from his cheek down between her cleavage. She also felt his hands grip her waist and then glide up her back as he clung tightly to her. She sighed, lifting the weight of his head with the expansion of her lungs, and waited out the silent internal storm raging within him.

 

After several moments, Ryuho slowly raised his head and focused completely dry eyes on her, his expression one of apologetic entreaty. When she gave him a reassuring smile, he guided Mimori's injured forearm to his face and lightly swept his lips over the inside of her bruised wrist, trailing kisses up the inside of her arm, across the bend in her elbow and lightly kissed the dark marks higher on her limb. His lips then found the identical splotch on her other arm and brushed against it as well; he then kissed a trail over her shoulder and across her collarbone to the little hollow at the base of her throat. He tongued the tiny well, eliciting another sensual moan from the woman whose skin he was tasting, and he eagerly returned to her lips, wanting to feel her groans echo within the cavern of his mouth.

 

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It didn't take long for their feverish ardor to escalate again and soon Ryuho was pulling Mimori's torso flat against his. When her pelvis bumped against his groin his stomach jumped and he hoisted her knees off the ground to pull her legs over his hips. She immediately complied, squeezing his waist between her thighs and her core brushed against his hardening member. With a new sense of urgency he found footing and stood up, lifting both of their entwined bodies from the floor. Refusing to abandon her delicious mouth, he stole glances of her apartment from around her ear as he tried to navigate his way to her bedroom while still kissing her. In his lust-clouded frenzy, he grazed against several pieces of furniture before finally bumping into her table, the place where their strange and serendipitous evening had begun.

 

Taking advantage of an opportunity, he momentarily set her down on the edge of the table so that he could readjust his hold before snatching her into the bedroom. However, in her impatience, Mimori began leaning back on the wooden surface, trying to drag him down on top of her. Ryuho tugged her back up and pried himself from her kiss to elicit a warning, “Mimori, wait! There's broken glass on the table! This is just a pit-stop…”

 

Remembering the shattered glasses, she craned her head back to check for the shards. However, a familiar bowl and its creamy contents caught her eye and imagination; she leaned out of Ryuho's arms and twisted around, grabbing the dish and dragging it towards her perch on the table's edge. Ryuho couldn't help but furrow curious eyebrows at her odd little errand. Was she going to interrupt their rapidly intensifying make-out session for a bowl of melted ice cream? “Umm, are you hungry?”

 

Glancing from the bowl to the man between her legs, she gave him a coy smile. “Aren't you?”

 

A feral darkness surged behind his eyes when he answered her, “Not for that…”

 

However, she simply gave a little shrug and dipped her finger in the dish, generously coating it in a milky layer of the now-melted dessert. “Are you sure?” and with that she raised the long, thin digit to her open mouth and ran her tongue from the base of her finger to the tip, laving off the creamy treat. She then placed her finger deep in her mouth and closed her lips seductively around it. Ryuho watched with renewed interest as the corners of her mouth dimpled from gently sucking up the sweet remnants of the dessert. She raised an eyebrow as she slowly extracted the slick appendage, “How about a taste?”

 

Ryuho found himself obediently opening his mouth after Mimori scooped another healthy bit of ice cream and brought it up for him. He sucked in the entire length of her coated finger and made an elaborate exhibition of running his tongue up and down the soft skin and sucking it totally clean. When she went to pull it out, he teasingly caught the tip gently but firmly between his teeth, refusing to relinquish the tiny digit back to its owner. She gave him a mock-frown and then grabbed his collar with her other hand to drag his head and her trapped appendage closer. Focusing intently on her approaching lips, he finally surrendered her finger in place of capturing her pouting mouth.

 

Ryuho delighted in the evident difference between what had been merely a hint of sugary taste in their first kiss and the veritable flood of cream and chocolate mingled with the intrinsic sweetness of her mouth in this one. The ice cream definitely complemented her already enticing natural flavor and he found himself wondering which other foods the taste of her kiss might enhance. God help him if any other part of her body tasted as good as her mouth.

 

Having learned her lesson, Mimori broke their connection for another dose of much-needed oxygen and leaned her forehead against Ryuho's as she drew in deep breaths. Glancing down, she suddenly chuckled, bumping their heads together. Puzzled, Ryuho pulled back a bit and peered down at the source of her little outburst: apparently not all of the ice cream had made it to his mouth. A large drip had fallen from her finger and spilled down the front of his dark shirt, leaving a wet trail of creamy goo. He raised an eyebrow at her and she wrinkled her nose guiltily. “I'm sorry.”

 

Without even the hint of a smile he replied, “It doesn't go with my outfit.” Mimori threw her head back and laughed out loud, only to be greeted by an entirely different sight once she recovered. As her head leveled she caught the edge of a black shirt as it disappeared over his head, leaving her to stare at a compact, impressively-muscled and very naked chest. Her eyes grew large as she took in the contours of his sculpted physique; muscles rippled beneath his skin as he tossed his shirt to a far corner of the room and then brought his arms back down around her. Wide, solid shoulders, rock-hard pectorals, washboard abdominals, sinewy obliques- everywhere she looked fine musculature peeked back at her; the body hiding under his shirt was even more breathtaking than she had imagined!

 

Ryuho caught her wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare and ducked his head self-consciously, ears turning a crimson to rival his eye color, “…Training and sparring, umm, helps me alleviate tension.”

 

Unable to take her eyes off his torso, she merely nodded, replying, “You must be a very tense person.” She caught the tail end of a minute wince.

 

“You have no idea…”

 

As she considered his cryptic quip, Mimori finally noticed the faint red lines stretching across the skin of his chest and abdomen. Upon closer inspection it looked as if a hand full of scars had been hurled at him, latching on to his skin like leeches. They were in varying stages of healing and the closer she examined him, the more marks she detected. Some of them were raised and angry while others where fading to a light pink shade or even a pale white; several of the palest ones were only visible because they stood out against the slightly darker tan of his skin. In addition to the healing cuts, red and yellow splotches were liberally scattered across his torso as well, flaming or fading depending on their age. After seeing them, it was a wonder she hadn't noticed them instantly.

 

Mimori realized that they all marked altercations with his enemies; souvenirs from opponents like Kazuma or the Native Alter that had escaped earlier that day- people who had tried to beat him and perhaps even take his life. They were too numerous to count, and she withered in their presence. “…So many scars…”

 

His reply was somber and sorrowful, “It's part of being an Alter User… it's part of what I do, who I am…”

 

After only a moment of contemplation she turned an accepting gaze up at him, eyes full of understanding. Thin, tentative fingers reached up to trace the violent marks marring his skin, barely brushing over the high relief of the physical remnants of battles both recent and long past. As she moved across his chest, her touches grew bolder and more purposeful and her other hand joined the first in careful exploration. He stood perfectly still beneath her surveying fingers as she endeavored to memorize every wound. Somehow, if given enough time, she knew she could heal them all or at least soften the pain of their accompanying memories. It would be one of her first steps toward repairing his fractured soul. Dropping her hands to the back of his waist, she silently urged him closer in order to seal her unspoken promise in a kiss on each scar. Lightly closing her mouth over the nearest mark, she noticed the saltiness of his skin from his earlier workout; she was surprised at how it complemented the lingering sweetness of her dessert and knew she would relish this first self-appointed task. It was entirely too easy to love him; she could accept all of him or mend the parts that he could not accept himself.

 

Ryuho felt her soft lips repeatedly graze his skin, and he squeezed his eyes tight against the realization of her true intentions. His desperate appeal had been spoken only minutes ago, but already Mimori was working on the jagged parts of him, fitting him back together like a jigsaw puzzle and reaching within herself to replace the pieces that were missing. He was instantly overwhelmed; he would never be able to repay what she was giving him, but he resolved to spend every waking moment from now on endeavoring to do so. Catching her face in his hands, he gently lifted her lips away from his stomach and up to his mouth. After a single languorous kiss he whispered a heartfelt `Thank you' meant only for her ears and heart.

 

Mimori smiled up at him, a genuine smile that reached the roots of her hair. His quiet words were more than she ever expected to hear from him, particularly so soon after his discomfiting confession from earlier that night. He was proud above all else, and she honestly hadn't expected any additional emotional acknowledgement from him for the rest of the night. Of course, Ryuho wasn't finished surprising her in words or deeds. Still cupping her face, one of his thumbs began massaging slow, small circles against the spot behind her ear as he tongued the opposite earlobe, sending tiny shivers down her spine. She was so distracted by his new little trick that she almost missed the words exhaled against her neck. “Mimori, I don't deserve you.”

 

Still gripping his lower back, she pulled him closer, squeezing his hips between her open thighs. Head arched back in bliss, her reply was breathy but insistent. “You deserve everything I could possibly give you. I'm just glad that we're finally both getting what we want,” and she punctuated her words with another tug that pulled him against her pelvis.

 

His manhood practically jumped at the contact, and he instinctively ground himself against her center, increasing the pressure on her neck as he clenched his teeth, “God, Mimori, you have no idea how much I want this… how much I want you…” He was buried back in her neck before he could even finish his thought.

 

She moaned and clenched even tighter around him, crossing her legs against his buttocks. Her searching hands climbed their way up the muscles of his back, gripping tightly as if he might somehow slip away. She could barely find her voice in her fog of ecstasy, “If it's half as much as I want you then this is going to be an interesting night.”

 

He was about to argue the superiority of his desires for her but instead found a more useful task for his lips as they homed in on hers like a beacon. The hand not pulling her to his mouth wrapped around her back and slid down her spine, noting how thin and fragile it seemed beneath his fingers.

 

Every part of her seemed so frail and delicate to his combat-weathered eyes and hands. To a warrior like him, who encountered fighters of varying calibers on a daily basis- his peerless and confident comrades and fellow soldiers of HOLY, the conniving yet tenacious Native Alters of the wastelands or the hardened and obstinate Inners beyond the city's gates- her lithe and dainty features seemed almost an oddity. She was like a piece of porcelain, requiring the gentlest touch so as not to flaw her pristine form. The bruises he had so easily raised on her body were proof of that. While he acknowledged her formidable emotional strength he found himself growing increasingly anxious over her physical vulnerability. She was susceptible to too many dangers and the more he thought about it the more his mind was assailed with terrifying images. Flashes of her beautiful body in countless states of trauma - bruised and battered, bound and tortured, bloodied and broken, abused and molested, mangled and lifeless- suddenly inundated his consciousness and he instinctively tightened his hold on her.

 

“Oh God, we can't tell anyone…” The words were uttered before he even realized it, startling the love-drunk woman in his arms.

 

Mimori managed to turn a woozy and quizzical eye at him but never ceased her provocative manual explorations of his back. “Who? Tell what?”

 

He fixed her eyes in a serious stare. “About us, Mimori. We have to keep it a secret. God, I couldn't bear if anything happened to you! I'd go insane…”

 

She finally stopped herself and rested a hand against his cheek. “What are you talking about? Nothing's going to happen to me-”

 

“-As long as no one knows we're together! You don't understand, Mimori…” Anxiety tightened every muscle in Ryuho's face.

 

She simply nodded, “Then explain it.”

 

He sighed, taking only the briefest pause to collect his thoughts. “HOLY is a formidable institution, but it exists against a backdrop of violence and subterfuge. Under the polished veneer it's an aggressive military organization and right now we're at war. We're meeting opposition from all sides; not just from the usual targets but from within as well. As a high-ranking officer, I've made more than my fair share of enemies. They'll lie, cheat and try to manipulate any advantage they can find. I don't want you in the middle of that.”

 

She furrowed contemplative eyebrows at him. “You think that someone might try to use me against you…”

 

“…Yes, if they knew. So no one can know, not even the Commander- especially not the Commander…” at her concerned frown he replied, “He has enough power over me as it is.”

 

Staring straight in his eyes, Mimori slowly nodded her head. “Alright then. No one will know. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, tonight never happened. If that's what it takes for us to be together, then I'll gladly do it. I'll do whatever it takes to be with you, Ryuho.” Then she sighed and gave a nervous chuckle, “Jeez, I thought you were going to ask me for something difficult.”

 

He breathed an audible sigh of relief and then kissed her forehead, resuming the sensuous massaging of her neck. “It will be difficult. We'll have to act like we still don't like each other.” His lip twitched with the slightest hint of a smile, “You'll have to resist the urge to jump me in the halls the next time you see me.”

 

“And you'll have to keep your hands to yourself during the medical debriefings with the Commander.” Her hands resumed their roving over the topography of his muscles, lightly grating her nails down the length of his back.

 

Ryuho shivered at the sensation and flattened his other hand against her spine again, fingertips grazing the wing of her shoulder blade through her tank top. Mock-frowning at her words, he teased, “Not even a little action under the conference table?” He bumped his fingers down her vertebrae to dip below the waistband of her panties. Feeling the swell of her bottom beneath his hand, he squeezed the flesh, kneading it between his fingers to gauge the sensitivity. That move earned him an approving gasp and she squeezed her thighs around his hips again, sending his head spinning.

 

“That would be a bad idea. Do you really want to start something you wouldn't be able to finish? Before the night's out, I think you'll find I tend to get a little carried away…” and to prove her point Mimori pulled his chest towards her and leaned down to flick her tongue across one of his small nipples and set her teeth against it. She felt his muscles jump beneath her lips and hands and smiled against his skin, working even more fervently on the little nub stretched over his pec.

 

Feeling her tongue and teeth lick and nip at his skin, Ryuho's erection began swelling and fighting the restrictive confines of his briefs. A ragged suck of air through clenched teeth signaled that things were rapidly escalating and a renewed sense of urgency seized him. “Actually, I think it's about time you really got carried away,” and suddenly both of his hands palmed her buttocks and lifted her off the table, yanking her up against his stomach. She reflexively latched on to him, tightening arms and legs around his body as he swung her away from the table and began striding purposefully towards her bedroom.

 

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To be continued… Lemon ahoy!!