It's Nothing I'll Forget
Rating: Heavy R/Light NC-17
Genre(s): Drama
Pairing: Reita/Aoi
Summary: It was much like exchanging low quality boxed wine for excellently refined liquor - both got the job done in the end, but there was a matter of sophistication and greedy high taste pleasure in the process of achieving those ends.
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I remember, very well, the day he told me we wouldn’t do this again. The delicious smell that lingered in the room and the excited beat of my heart had been replaced with sadness and loss I hadn't anticipated. I didn’t understand it then and I certainly don’t understand it now, no matter how hard I try. I understand the words and what was off limits, but never why as it was decreed to me like a ruler to his subject. To his credit, he had stood by his declaration; it had been several months since I’d felt those fingers touch my body in places I’d forgotten wanted attention.
Craved attention.
Not any fingers would do. It was much like exchanging low quality boxed wine for excellently refined liquor - both got the job done in the end, but there was a matter of sophistication and greedy high taste pleasure in the process of achieving those ends. Some would explain that it was because he was my first that I longed for him. That it was a matter of familiarity or expectations and not true desire, but fabricated need on my part.
Perhaps.
But it didn’t stop me from feeling my flesh ripple in horripilation when his fingers found the skin under my shirt while our bodies pressed together in the privacy of the nearest dark room we could find. I can’t remember what signal allowed for our mutual understanding in that moment but, unlike the time before, there were no words to preface our interlude.
No words were necessary.
Just because he’d been the first that invaded my body, in welcomed euphoria, didn’t mean that those who would chastise me for hoping this would happen again were right. I merely agree with a perhaps as I have no frame of reference. How might I disagree when I have no answer of my own? At least not without my own emotions to support it. They are more likely jealous because such euphoria is a luxury they hadn’t the opportunity to revisit.
I do.
I have the chance everyday. Rather, I see him everyday. And he looks just as beautiful and just as alluring as the first time I lay under his lustful gaze and desiring breaths. The flash of his neck when he breaths and the gentle smiles on his lips were more arousing than I could handle on my own. It’s difficult, I won’t deny this; particularly as he made it perfectly clear that we were never to be in the same compromising position. The very same position we were in as my fingers worked diligently to unbutton all the fastens of his clothing and I could feel him accomplishing the same on mine. Our clothes seemed to agree as they peeled off with no consequence, falling to the floor in a discarded flutter.
We were free.
Free to explore the familiar curves and angles, ones we'd been absent from for so long yet remembered as if it had only been yesterday. Free to touch and reminisce about which hadn’t been visited in nearly a year. Free of the confines of fabric and modesty; there was no room for that mindset when my hand inched down his side and I felt the tips of his fingers run the small of my back. I made no attempt to hide my desire; where I had been timid in our former encounter, I now nipped hungrily at the metal lanced through his lip without reservation.
“Relax.”
This time it was my voice that asked for his unabridged trust. I wasn’t above begging, but I hoped that I wouldn’t have to. I knew I wouldn’t when he squeezed closer to me and bowed his head so our foreheads were pressed lightly together and our eyes met. Through the darkness, his inky black eyes were telling. It was then that I realized I wasn’t the one begging, he enjoyed my direction.
My command.
I hadn’t anticipated it and though my mood and manner was gentle, I took no time in clutching tightly to his upper arms so I could firmly push him down against the futon at our service. It had been mine but somehow relocated itself to his residence some time ago, but it - like him - was familiar to me and allowed for me to perch over him with rekindled longing.
It was fervor.
Fervor that I tried to repress as our lips collided again and I ran my tongue along that teasing ring before I drew myself up further over him. Once more our eyes met and a small smile crossed his face, one that I realized was mirrored on mine and it drew our mouths back together like magnets. But it wasn’t enough, not for me as the passionate urgency took over.
I loved him.
I still love him. That part I know isn’t blind lust translated from physical affection that could have been considered a mistake by some. I loved him before the first time he wrapped his lips around my swollen penis or the mutual moment of climax we found in a singular night. That night had been a representation of what I knew I felt, even if I had been nervous and timid then; I had wanted him because I loved him, I am sure of it.
I love him.
But that’s the crime in this, if any of our intimacy could be considered sinful. It was only once before that such affection had been shared and it broke my heart. I’m not afraid of the physical anymore - I was that night; but not anymore. Now I have come to a point in which I understand that my emotional output matched my bodily one and I wanted him.
Yes, I want him.
But I want him because I love him, just as before. Such feelings fell from my lips the second they had the opportunity to graze his ear. “I love you, Aoi.” He didn’t answer in words but I felt his thigh ride across the outside of mine and his body open up invitingly. To which I answered without faltering or indecisiveness. I had no qualms with accepting his unspoken offer to take him entirely. As he was the one that insisted it not happen again and now he was the one tempting fate, I saw no reason to abide by our previous treaty.
He was warm.
Just like I remembered. Not just the flesh of his body that welcomed me and wrapped snuggly around my shaft. I took a moment to adjust and set comfortably inside of him, excitement coursed through me at his familiarity. It was the energy he exuded as he gave into that which he’d been fighting for all that time that made him so warm. I hadn’t known he was fighting what I’d resigned myself to as he insisted we would not be physical again. Had I known, this day would have come much sooner. I knew, by the way he moved, the way it felt and the indescribable energy between us, that there was a measure of control in him which kept this from happening before now. Particularly as he moaned softly, affectionately, when my hips took to action thrusting against him.
I needed him.
Not to know what ecstasy could come from intimacy. As I said, the ends are all the same. I had been with women and men in the time between the last time it was him that my body was moving in unison with, as it was now. I understood the pleasure of the body, but never the combination of both body and spirit. That was reserved exclusively for him as it was not just sex but art. I could feel him squirm slightly, not in discomfit but in pleasure in the fullness he felt. My fingers closed around his solid shaft and I gave it a light tug that matched the rhythm I’d taken to rocking against him.
“Reita.”
His lips had to part from mine to hiss out my name, though not in discomfort but in a soft plea. I could feel the tightness of his voice when he uttered the single word that gave me the slightest warning that it would end long before it could. I was satisfied with it having happened at all, my own body relishing in the explosive feeling. His hand reluctantly gripped my own, the one that was working him. As it did, I was forced to stop, which was his intention but it only succeeded in preventing me from moving him more. It didn’t stop the reciprocated orgasm that befell both of us in the same instant, as if paint was thrown against the blank cavas we had been decorating.
Conclusive gratification.
It was indulgence. Frenzied indulgence, but nothing that couldn’t be explained in anything more simple, and yet complex all at once, than the single word rapture. Sweep rapture. It was greed and need and lust and desire and intoxicating rhapsody in a whirlwind of colorful sensations I felt myself relishing in. It was still with sublime admiration and awe that my eyes drank at him in, unprepared for how wholly he had taken me again as his lover. It was also in that moment that I realized I was wrong. I was begging him too - it just wasn’t as obvious as the way his eyes had betrayed him before.
And now…
We didn’t move, neither of us had the initiative to abandon the other and we wanted to linger in the throws of passion, even if it was the denouement that we were experiencing in that moment. “I’m not just going to let you abandon this feeling again.” I said to him carefully though with firmness in my tone. I could taste the scorn on my lips from the last time I’d let him say that when we woke, we wouldn’t belong to each other any longer. As if I was a child in need of a lesson. No, not this time.
“Okay.”
He conceded, yet I didn’t feel victorious. His body was still trembling, but so was mine as we were completely vulnerable to one another. It felt good to be reminded that sensational satisfaction was still present in both of us. It was that part I could embrace as more than simple pleasure from another warm, arousing body. He was tight though, rigid; that part made me uncomfortable. At least, until I learned why. The words he was afraid to say. “I love you too.” He uttered and every muscle in his person loosened, relaxing against me at his admission. “I never didn’t, don’t mistake that. I love you, Reita”
He was mine…as much as I was his.
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A/N: So originally I wrote this without Jackie as she’s away for the weekend, having left me here alone to my own devices. As we all already know I make bad writing choices when I’m alone. Well, turns out she still reads stuff even when she’s gone and she read this too. So with her help we got it all tip top shape for you guys to read. Originally this was posted at my personal LJ but that’s not fair at all as this is our work, as it always is shared.
Anyway, this is my first attempt - ever in my musings with writing - to try first person. So everything about this piece is out of my comfort zone. Even so I think it turned out decently enough. As always, thank you for reading. We really appreciate it.