All Right! Fine! I’ll Take You! – Zaimokuza Gaiden – Chapter 16 – A Girl in Love

I… I don’t know what to do.

It’s a sensation I’ve become used to over the past few years, ever since I started trying to live by some rules that only made sense because I thought they should, ever since I stopped being… myself, I guess.

But… that’s not the case anymore, is it?

Because it’s been… it’s been frustrating, and confusing, and a roller coaster that’s left me dizzy more than once, but I—but Yoshiteru has dragged me back to the Minami of before, to the girl I… The girl I think I am.

And that girl rarely hesitated.

That doesn’t mean she didn’t make mistakes. She was stubborn, impulsive, liked to always have the last word. She made plenty of mistakes. But the worst one she ever made was to stop being herself.

And… And now that I am her, I should be as reckless, as prone to charging ahead as she ever was. I shouldn’t doubt, shouldn’t fidget while not knowing how to step forward, how to push…

But… maybe I’m not her. Maybe I’m me, and the me from now is… not the one I was.

And that’s all right.

Because… well, I’m still growing up, aren’t I? Isn’t this what this whole thing’s supposed to be about? Discovering myself, learning from my mistakes, learning to be a better me?

… This all sounds stupidly shounen.

And, well… I’m currently in a very seinen scene. Or, at the very least, josei.

Heck, it’s borderline hentai!

Because this whole thing about not knowing what to do? The thing I’m hesitating about?

It’s because I just woke up surrounded by Yoshiteru’s arms, my face smushed against his chest, both of us lying on our sides, and the comfortable, soft (seriously this thing is sinful) red duvet covering my face is up to my nose.

The green LED of the bedside clock lets out enough light that I can make out contours, that I can see the outline of his chest even as he almost tries to asphyxiate me against him, and I…

He’s lightly snoring. Why am I not surprised.

But that’s the last thing that catches my attention because his smell, that intense thing I had barely gotten a whiff of up until today, is filling the bed, rushing inside me with every breath as the sheets that have dried off our sweat keep brushing against my cheek in a careless caress as his chest rises and falls, and all of it is making it very difficult to just think.

He’s warm. He’s soft. He’s firm. He’s strong.

And that makes me remember how he just picked me up like it was nothing and pushed me against the wall before filling me, ramming in and out of me until my brain just gave up and let my body do whatever it wanted, and I kept squeezing around him, and oh gods, he’s at half-mast, rubbing against my belly, and I am rubbing my thighs together, because he’s just… I…

I was neverthis horny before.

I mean, I like boys, obviously,and I thought about sex, and… well… experimented by myself, but it’s not… It’s nothing like when I am with him, and he says something that sets me off, and I just have to get my hands on him, and then I touch him, and his skin tingles in a way that lingers after my fingers part from him, so his touch follows me and keeps messing with my mind, making me yearn for more and—

I need to…

I take a deep breath to calm myself, but all the air I take in is heated by his body, carrying that underlying note of something earthy and mildly spicy, almost like ginger and nutmeg, and this isn’t helping—

Right. Right, I just have to… to stop hotboxing myself with the smell of the guy who just took my virginity and made me promise he would never again be alone, and I asked him to promise me I wouldn’t be, and oh gods, I’ll have to look him in the eye and remember that scene for as long as…

As…

…

Did we just… become engaged?

…

Nope. Nope, this doesn’t count. At the very least, I demand a romantic setting that doesn’t involve him reshaping my insides. Yep. We’ll both be clothed, and he’ll not be kneeling in a park asking me—

…

Oh gods, he askedme.

Right. That also doesn’t count. He thought I was asking him to ask me.

And he did.

Like a moron.

Like the sweetest moron—nope. Impromptu proposals due to comedic misunderstandings aren’t sweet. They are dumb. Very dumb. Like puppies.

I need to get out from beneath these sheets before my brain melts.

Right, I just need to… wiggle a bit. Against the large body of my boyfriend. My very naked boyfriend. My very naked boyfriend, who’s still at half-mast and brushing against my belly. And grasping me. Surrounding me with his arms. Engulfing me with his scent. Making me remember my legs around him, his member inside me, his hands grasping my hips, his eyes holding me down, the mattress bouncing beneath me with every thrust of his—

Air! Blessed, sweet, non-Yoshiteru-scented air!

Right. Right, now I can just take a deep breath and forget how my hard nipples felt as I dragged myself up and they brushed across his chest, how his… his thing is no longer poking around my belly, but between my thighs, and how I…

I was trying to decide something, wasn’t I?

I swear I never was this horny before.

I mean, of course, it’s not like I haven’t watched the usual posters and… well. You know. There’s a whole industry that caters to young girls in dire need of having an underwear change. They make millions off those pictures with boys with hairless chests and unbuttoned shirts who may even know how to sing.

Some of them often appear in certain… magazines.

The ones I threw away.

Because they are useless. Or, at least, they are when faced with someone like Yoshiteru Zaimokuza—if even assuming there is anyone else like him wasn’t such an absurdity.

Right. Right. Decisions.

Like, for instance…

Should I wake him up with a blowjob?

I mean, I know it’s a fantasy. Boys may be mysterious, alien creatures in some regards, but not in… others. So I’m pretty sure he would be happy to go from dreaming (hopefully) about me, to me doing something to him beneath the sheets that—

Nope. Not going under there until I decide what to do. It’s not an environment conducive to calm reflection.

So… Pros and cons?

I’m horny as Hell, and he’s, at least physiologically, up (heh) for it. Right, that’s a pro.

Cons?

I… Well, according to the green light I can catch a glimpse of if I strain my neck quite a bit uncomfortably while I try not to disturb the sleeping oaf, it’s four in the morning. There’s a slight chance that he wouldn’t appreciate getting up at this hour.

I certainly wouldn’t, but it turns out that half-asphyxiating against a broad chest has a way of shaking the sleepiness off. Who knew.

Still, it’s… All right, what would I think if he woke me up by diving between my legs and licking my clitoris as his thick fingers spread my thighs and—

Fuck!

Right, I need to give him a few hints about this. Something subtle that he still won’t misunderstand.

…

Ha.

Right, anything other than a printed card stating written, signed permission to ravage me while I sleep will probably become the second part of the proposal incident, so… Yeah, I don’t feel like embarrassing myself explaining just how hot it would be.

But… well, would it be for him? I mean, I think I can manage to make it enjoyable, but I’ve never tried before, and waking him up because I did something with my teeth that should never be done doesn’t sound like the kind of idyllic morning-after scene a romantic chuuni like him dreams about.

Yeah, he would brush it off, not blame me at all, but… but I don’t want to ruin this for him.

And… I also don’t want to ruin it for me.

Because I’m horny, and I want to do things with him and to him, and to have him do things to me, but…

But I’m also drowsy, and my mind is working slowly, stuttering, and my thoughts drag on, and his scent is still messing with me even with my face out of the sheets and lying in a shared pillow, and he’s in front of me…

He’s…

He isn’t wearing his glasses, and his broad face is more defined than it usually looks, his square jaw cast in sharp relief by the slight greenish light. His hair’s out of his ponytail, a silver mane I never would’ve imagined, yet still as wild and spiky as usual, his locks making me want to take a comb to them… except that his bangs are stuck to his forehead, matted with dried sweat, the sweat he got while taking me, and…

Carefully, slowly, I manage to snake my right arm out of his embrace, and I brush a lock of hair away from where it’s sticking above his left eye. His face scrunches for a moment and then relaxes.

His mouth is partly open, and there are traces of dried saliva at its corners.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him relaxed.

He’s always… Yoshiteru. Enthusiastic, energetic, boastful. Even when he’s down or sulking, he’s shaking with that energy of his, that spark that makes it so he’s never cold and distant, and…

I… I…

I’m staring.

I’m staring at my sleeping boyfriend, at closed eyes without a trace of tightness, and his slow, steady, deep breathing tickles me above my chest. His arms are around me, strong and firm, yet gentle even in his sleep, and his warmth is still enveloping me, the air beneath the covers adding to his embrace, an extension of it.

And I…

I don’t understand.

I told him I loved him. That I thought this was something other than a crush. And I keep thinking about him, about how he makes me feel, how he never leaves my thoughts, how I’m a different Minami when he looks at me. I thought I understood, that I knew.

But this… This is different.

This is something bubbling in my chest that’s steady rather than a bursting release. It’s something that warms rather than heats. It’s…

“I love you, Yoshiteru,” I breathe out, not even knowing why.

His lips twitch, and I can imagine him smiling at me. Not his wide grin. Not his bombastic laugh. Not his arrogant smirk.

No, I imagine a soft, gentle smile, lips barely upturned but silver eyes almost glowing with tenderness, and I…

I lean down, my nose buried between his neck and his shoulder, and I use my free arm to hug him, to hold him as I close my eyes and relax to the steady rhythm of warm breath washing over the side of my neck.

He promised me I would never be alone.

I’ll hold him to that.