Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The celebration goes late into the night.

Kurogane finally found a new job, one in the non-profit sector that supports LGBT youth in Japan. Got a decent salary with good benefits. It will still involve spreadsheets, but he won’t be working for the government anymore and that is what matters.

Yuko insisted that they go out and celebrate. Called their friends too. Sôma started the drinking. Fuma and Amaterasu wanted to go to a second bar. Fai insisted on shots before leaving. There were even speeches, most of which were Fai calling Kurogane a big softie and Yuko chiming in with embarrassing anecdotes. Sôma mouthed “sorry” at him from across the table, but she didn’t stop the madness, so Kurogane doesn’t really forgive her.

Kurogane held Yuko’s hand the whole way back to his place because she’s so drunk that he was afraid that she’d just wander off. Kimihiro is staying at her place, so they don’t have to worry about all of her pets. All Kurogane had to do is get Yuko home and put her to bed, something that was much easier than he thought it would be.

“What would you do if I called you a zaddy?” Yuko hiccups, lying on Kurogane’s bed. She’s wearing her little strapless dress, arms up by her head.

“I’m younger than you.” It’s only a year, but Kurogane isn’t into the nickname. He’s unbuttoning his shirt. Sees Yuko clench her thighs together, watches her squirm like she’s a little uncomfortable. She gets restless when she’s drunk and horny.

“It’s a compliment.” She arches her back, and her breasts peek over the top of her dress. It’s made out of cheap, stretchy fabric, so it starts to roll down.

Kurogane stops unbuttoning his shirt, watches as Yuko’s breasts are revealed. She isn’t wearing a bra. Her areolas and nipples can only be described as incredibly pretty (what this means, he’s too drunk to articulate). He tilts his head, flicks his eyes down to see her pulling her dress up. She’s wearing one of her tiny thongs, one with a bow. He wheezes, rolls his eyes. He’d be a dick, but he’s drunk and in a good mood.

“Oh, is it?” Kurogane pulls off his shirt, goes to hang it up. Hears Yuko stand up, figures that she’s just taking off her clothes. He shuts the door of his closet, takes off his pants. Sees Yuko peel her dress and panties from her body. She picks up her clothes from the floor, throwing them in the hamper.

“Uh huh,” Yuko hums, walking back over to the bed. Climbs in, lies down on Kurogane’s side. Rolls onto her back to occupy the middle of the bed. “You need to learn to take a compliment.”

“Make better ones.” Kurogane follows her into bed, pretty much lying on top of her. Doesn’t smile at her but allows tenderness to rise within him. When they’re drunk, it’s easy to be sappy.

“Fine,” she hums, “how about, I love you so much?”

“I don’t know, do you?” he asks, putting his face in hers. Their noses press together, and their eyes stay open. Kurogane feels her breath land on his face, and it takes everything in him not to kiss her.

“You make me believe in it,” she says, holding his face in her hands. She speaks right into his mouth, her lips brushing his.

Kurogane swallows. His younger self would have a stroke if he were told that he would grow up and become Yuko’s boyfriend. He sometimes jokes that he loves Yuko against his own wishes. In this moment, as she looks up at him, he knows that he’s lying to everyone, because he chooses her and can’t see that changing.

When he kisses her, the sounds they make fill up the room. Sometimes she giggles, or he sighs, depending on what they’re doing.

**

Yuko isn’t afraid of telling Kurogane that she loves him because it’s so obvious that he loves her. He tucks the covers around her after she kicks the blankets off, holds her hand to keep her from wandering away, and can laugh and kiss her at the same time. Maybe she doesn’t like being so easy to read, but Yuko doesn’t mind telling Kurogane how she really feels.

“You would’ve been mad if I peed in your bed.” Yuko pulls the covers back, climbs onto Kurogane, who is still lying there, on his back. Kurogane frowns at her, grunts when she sits on his stomach.

“I let you go, didn’t I?” Kurogane reaches for her waist, hungover and clingy. Yuko smiles as his hands make contact with her body. Gives her the shivers, and her entire body has a pulse.

“Not without convincing,” she hums, “I was being held hostage.”

“Hostage?”

“Against my will!” Yuko croaks out a laugh at the grumpy noise Kurogane makes. She falls over onto her side, her laughter silent, holding her stomach. Kurogane sits up on his elbows, scowling at her. This just makes Yuko laugh even harder.

Kurogane watches her for a minute, before rolling his eyes and lying back down, evidently choosing peace. At least, that’s what she thinks, until he climbs on top of her. Kisses her cheek, then her neck, across her shoulder. Yuko hums, not minding it. “You’re being so nice to me.”

“I must like you or something stupid like that.” Kurogane play bites her shoulder, and Yuko reaches down to push his sweatpants down his hips. He gets on his elbows to help her, and she taps her fingertips against his skin.

“Well, you are pretty stupid.” Yuko flicks her eyes up at him and smiles. She sees that it disarms him, his mouth opening and closing like he was going to say something caustic but can’t now.

When the waistband of his sweatpants is pushed to the middle of his thighs, Yuko decides to pull her little black slip up to her waist. “We should mess around a little bit.” She says it in a soft voice, smiling lazily when Kurogane pushes the one strap of her slip off her shoulder.

“Mess around?” he asks, before kissing her neck. Yuko makes a soft noise, instead of saying yes. That would ruin it.

Kurogane takes his place between her thighs. His penis presses against her vulva, and Yuko feels gooey inside, like honey. She smiles at Kurogane, waiting for him to get to the good part but liking how he doesn’t just go for it. It’s hot that he makes them both wait a little.

“I think you make me crazy,” Kurogane murmurs, mostly to himself. Yuko hears anyway, and nods.

“That’s just what love is,” she replies, “being mutually crazy.”

“Sharing insanity?” Kurogane asks, putting his hand around his dick, backing away a little. Looking at her vulva, lining up their bodies now.

“Psychotic togetherness.” Yuko angles her hips up, sighs when the head of Kurogane’s penis penetrates her vagina. Just the tip makes her happy, but he can never know that. It’s too embarrassing, even though everything they do together is intimate.

“I like how that sounds,” Kurogane replies, sliding his penis in deeper. Yuko lets out a laugh, and then moans as Kurogane starts thrusting properly.

Let me love you like the crazy woman I am. Yuko reaches between her legs to touch her clitoris. The good feelings sync up with the movement of Kurogane’s hips with hers. She sometimes wonders if he knows what he does to her, or if he is completely clueless to all the melty feelings that begin to circulate her body when he’s inside of her.

He changes the angle, his arms reaching under her legs. Yuko’s fingers slide the against her clitoris as Kurogane pulls her closer. It feels very intimate for him to be looking down at his body entering hers. She’s a little sad that she can only feel what he’s doing to her. Seeing would enhance the sensation of fullness.

The sun makes Kurogane look golden when Yuko looks up at his face. She sees the concentration on his face as he stares down at her. Yuko feels her heart space grow bigger inside of her. She gets this big, floaty feeling that pushes up with each roll of his hips, and she moans as it reaches her eyes and fingertips. Laughs out loud when he comes inside of her, because their knot, their curse, is complete and yet shall be realized again, over and over, until they part for the final time.

Chapter Text

“How hot do you need me to look tonight?”

Yuko walks across her living room, dark hair up in curlers, wearing a black bikini top and a denim mini skirt, the anti-professional. A cigarette hangs from the corner of her mouth, lighter in hand as Kurogane tries to iron his shirt. He sets the iron down, takes a second to look at Yuko’s sweaty hairline, her neck exposed because all her hair is piled on top her head. Kurogane allows himself to appreciate how beautiful she is—usually, he’s trying to stay mad at her for all the things she does to drive him insane, and he still fakes indifference for his own ego.

“Medium hot.” Kurogane watches her spark her lighter, hold it up to her cigarette. Tosses the lighter into a bowl full of odds and ends, left on the crowded coffee table.

“Just medium hot?” Yuko raises an eyebrow, “you don’t want your boss to like me?”

“My boss is gay.” Kurogane rolls his eyes. The non-profit he works for is hosting a fundraiser gala at an art museum, one that requires Kurogane wear a suit and pretend to appreciate art so he can avoid small talk. His mood isn’t helped by the awful, humid weather. It makes Kurogane upset that he’s going to have to wear a suit tonight when all he wants to do is lie back, naked, in a kiddie pool full of cold water.

“Everyone is a little bit straight,” Yuko gives him a big wink, takes the cigarette out of her mouth to blow out the smoke. Kurogane rolls his eyes, sets both his hands on the ironing board, still warm.

“There are people who would beg to differ.” Kurogane sees her joke for what it is and refuses to reward the smart remark. Decides he’s happy with the shirt, picks it up and hangs it up on a wire hanger hooked over the curtain rod running across the top of big window.

“Can you at least laugh at my joke?” Yuko asks, walking up to Kurogane. He turns to look at her, big frown on his face.

“You’re too evil to laugh at.” Yuko wheezes, crossing her arms.

“You may be right.” She takes the cigarette out of her mouth, exhales. “Whatever, I guess Satan can’t serve himself.” Yuko wouldn’t say that she’d be a good servant, but she’d try her extra best for the Devil.

“Satanism is an organized religion.” He holds the sleeve of the ironed shirt to his face, like he’s inspecting it for discoloration. Slides his thumb across the cloth.

“Your point?”

“You hate serving hierarchies,” Kurogane sets the sleeves down, looks at her. “You’re built for chaotic evil, just like—”

“A villain from a manga.” Yuko smiles at the way Kurogane’s face gets flushed. For such a dumb jock, he makes a surprising number of dork references. It’s all manga, but that’s still a part of nerd culture, according to Yuko. “The meme girls would call you a boy loser.”

“I don’t care what girls on the internet have to say about me.” Kurogane plucks the cigarette right from Yuko’s mouth, puts it in his own, stealing to make it look like he doesn’t care. An indirect kiss between lovers, which annoys Yuko to no end because she prefers to kiss him directly and doesn’t feel like he deserves any kisses right now no matter how handsome he is.

There’s a pulse in Yuko’s vagina when Kurogane hooks two of his fingers around the flimsy string between the cups of her bikini, the backs of his fingers sliding against her skin. He’s gentle, tugging her closer, small smile on his face, into her always.

“Not yet!” Yuko pries his hand off her swimsuit, pushes it into his chest. Kurogane blinks, incredulous, his eyebrows pinched together.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to mess up my hair!” Yuko can’t risk it. Her hair is too heavy to hold a curl, but it’s easier to put up if it’s wavy. She wants to look as nice as possible for Kurogane, and to realize this, they both must make sacrifices. She’ll make up for it when they get home. “We can do it later.”

“Maybe I plan to stay angry,” Kurogane sets his hands on his hips. Yuko leans into his face, pinches her cigarette between her fingers. Plucks it right out of his mouth.

“Angry that I won’t put out—what an entitled creep!” She sticks the cigarette back into her mouth, taps him on the nose, before spinning on her heel and walking to the bathroom. Laughs out loud when he grumbles to himself.

**

The slinky dress that Yuko chose to wear is distracting Kurogane. She’s somehow dressed too formally yet at the same time, is wearing something that leaves little to the imagination. Her back is exposed, two thin straps holding the dress up, cutting into the meat of her shoulders. The line of her spine makes Kurogane want to bend her over and do indecent things with her.

Unfortunately, he pulled the short straw at work this morning and is expected to introduce the keynote speaker in about half an hour. Has a cue card with the name, professional bio, and the subject of the speech. Kurogane has mouthed it to himself so many times that if he does it once more, he will completely forget it.

He’s in the bathroom, the one furthest away from the event, sticking his head out a window while he smokes a cigarette Yuko gave him. She’s leaning against the window beside him, sipping a glass of prosecco she swiped on their way over.

“You’re too tense.” Yuko takes a sip of her drink when Kurogane pulls back from the window, his hand staying outside. The sight of her bare arm makes his tummy tight.

“What do you mean?” he asks, knowing exactly what she’s getting at. He wants to throw up and shit himself, he’s so anxious. He’s not bad at public speaking but he he’d rather chew off his own fingernails.

“I could give you a hand job, to help you relax.” Yuko tilts her head back, wheezes when Kurogane doesn’t laugh. “If you really need me to do it, I’ll do it. I’m generous that way.”

Angry at himself for the two seconds he honestly considered it, Kurogane sticks his cigarette back in his mouth, stares out the window. “I want to throw up.”

“Gangsters don’t cry, nor do they hide in a bathroom, and they definitely don’t get nauseas at the idea of speaking for less than two minutes.”

“I’m not a gangster.” Kurogane is a lame-o. Yuko is the gangster, between the two of them. She uses a baseball bat to collect debts and doesn’t hesitate when it counts.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, “I think you could be. But you’d be my thug though.”

“Your stooge?” There’re worst fates. Kurogane hates to admit it, but he and Yuko agree on all the big things. He has the brawn to back her up, although knowing her, it wouldn’t be a surprise if she has already smashed a few kneecaps.

“Yes,” she says, “you’d work for me.”

Yuko sets her glass of prosecco down on the windowsill and steps closer to Kurogane. Sets her hands on his stomach, presses her palms to his body. Gets on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, one of her hands sliding down before Kurogane grabs her wrist. She turns her head, and he’s eyeing her, annoyed.

“Who is the entitled creep now?” he asks, letting go of her wrist. Yuko blinks at him, a little tipsy, horny, and stunned that he turned her down.

“Why’d you bring me here then?”

“I needed a cigarette and moral support.” Kurogane steps around her, walking to one of the open bathroom stalls. Pauses before he unzips his fly. “I like having you around, I guess.”

When they were in high school, Kurogane called her a witch and said that she probably ate souls for breakfast. Adolescent hyperbole, but Tomoyo still asked Yuko if it was true. It hurt more than she expected it to. He has since apologized for it, specifically when she brought it up a few months ago, and every time that he makes her come and tells her that he loves her.

His admission makes her feel just as small, but in a different way. She still gets a little nervous in the face of his love, isn’t so sure what to do with it because it’s so strong but hasn’t always been there. Yuko doesn’t know if she can rely on something so young to take care of her.

“Why did you never look at me in high school?” she asks, walking over to the stall. Leans against the doorframe, staring at his back while he pulls his penis out.

“Because you were mean and ugly.” His way of saying that he always noticed her but doesn’t want to admit it. He pees, the sound filling up the room. Not off-putting, because she has heard it before, finds a kind of intimacy in being so close.

“And now?”

“I guess I’m just attracted to those things.” He finishes peeing, fixes himself before zipping his fly. Drops his cigarette into the toilet before flushing it. Walks past her to wash his hands, gulps down the last of her prosecco for a little courage and to wash down the taste of smoke.

Before they leave the bathroom, Kurogane reaches out for Yuko, takes her face in his hands. Looks right into her eyes. “I’m going to make this worth your time.”

“Free booze is all I need,” Yuko says, “consider the debt settled.”

Not ready for the kiss Kurogane lands on her mouth, Yuko makes a soft noise in the back of her throat. Closes her eyes, opens up because she wants him to be inside of her in whatever way that he can be. Whines a little when he pulls away, pressing his thumbs into her cheeks.

“Kissing like that isn’t funny,” she says, voice quiet. Kurogane looks her right in the eye, his face completely serious.

“I’m not joking.” His intentions with Yuko are totally serious. Bringing her to this kind of event, for both of them, gestures at a more mature partnership. One thing to be boyfriend-girlfriend, different to show up for each other in their lives outside of their relationship. Yuko will never admit it, but she was giddy to get the invitation and is ashamed to have needed the validation.

“I know,” she says, “you’re perpetually humorless.” Moves his hands so that she can plant her own kiss on his mouth. He kisses her back, before he checks his watch and realizes that they have to get going.

When she sees him up at the podium, lights on him, speaking into a microphone, Yuko is overwhelmed by her attraction. Wants to tell the woman beside her that Kurogane is her man and isn’t she so lucky to get to go home with him. She doesn’t though, because it’s tacky to brag and she knows that Kurogane would be embarrassed if it somehow got back to him. Instead, she claps the loudest for him, and waves from the audience. Catches his eye and relaxes when she sees that he is looking right at her.

**

If there was ever a doubt that Kurogane would make spending an evening in an art museum with a horde of activists, progressives, and rich fucks worth it, it was annihilated when he kissed her on the mouth and grabbed her ass as soon as they were back inside of his apartment.

Leaning against the counter, Yuko’s fingers are curled under the edge, her legs open. Kurogane’s mouth is around her clitoris with two of his fingers inside of her. She can feel her knuckles turning white, and moans, trying to keep her body still. His tie and her lace thong are by her left foot, the straps of her dress pulled down her shoulders because Kurogane wanted to kiss her all over. His shirt is half unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, done on the way home due to the heat.

Yuko closes her eyes, tilt her head back, enjoys the moment. A soft noise comes from the back of her throat, and she runs her hand through his hair, her fingernails scratching his scalp. His other hand curves over her thigh, anchoring her in place, although she would never dream of walking away now. The pleasure leaves her aching inside, the best kind possible. Burns up when she thinks about all the kisses Kurogane planted on her neck, shoulders, and breasts before he finally went down on her.

When she comes, it’s like her body gives and it’s all Kurogane can do to hold on to her. He keeps going even while she’s coming, making Yuko’s toes curl. Little shocks all throughout her body, stars in her eyes, totally at peace.

Yuko straightens her back, opens her eyes slowly. Watching Kurogane stand up, wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Likes how exposed she is to him, that he can see the flush on her chest, that her legs are open to him. A shiver from between her legs all the way up to her bellybutton when Kurogane begins to undress. She distracts herself by taking off her shoes, unbuckling the straps and letting her heels fall to the floor.

In silence, they make their way back to his room. Both know what is going to happen. He kicks his shoes off before getting rid of his pants. Both trying to act casual in their lust, failing miserably because they are moving too quickly back to each other. Yuko gets on her back as soon Kurogane is out of his pants, and she doesn’t feel like she has to act cool anymore.

“You want to finish taking your dress off?” Kurogane is on his knees, between her legs. Pulls her hips towards him, her dress only covering her stomach. Her tummy gets the flutters when she sees the muscles of his upper body, perceives them in his grip. Yuko used to make fun of the girls in college who would trail after jocks like Kurogane. Would giggle at the rude names for them. Rolled her eyes when one woman described it as an honor for her boyfriend to come inside of her. Now that she has seen Kurogane naked, Yuko completely understands the appeal. I get to have sex with you.

“No,” Yuko sighs, “you’re so hot, I just want to get to the good part.” She means it too.

“Well, you’re thoroughly okay looking.” Yuko lets out a small laugh, because Kurogane is pulling her body closer and is staring at her vulva.

Looking at Kurogane makes her body ache in a visceral way, because he’s not inside of her. She’s only able to take pleasure in the pain of his absence because she knows that he isn’t going to make her wait for very long. He gives her just the tip first, then follows through with his hips. Deadly serious look on his face, enhances the feel of his penis inside of her. Yuko opens her mouth, shocked at the noise that comes out. Feels the familiar ache in her vagina, arousal taking over her senses.

She’s so wet, there’s no resistance. “I feel like I’ve waited so long.” For the night to end, the train ride home to be over, to be loved this way. “Why didn’t we do this earlier?” The amount of time it took for them to get together is truly embarrassing, considering how long they’ve known each other and how right it feels.

Kurogane doesn’t have a good answer, so he stays quiet and just sinks into her body, slow because he likes the face she makes and the way it feels for her body to open for his. He feels sappy when they make eye contact and Yuko smiles at him, so genuinely happy to be here, like there’s no one she’d rather be with. He feels the same. This is love, I guess.

Chapter Text

“I hate you.” Yuko mumbles into Kurogane’s shoulder, her legs open for him, absorbing the impact of his body as his hips move against hers. He’s playing hooky from work and Yuko decided to leave the shop closed today, so they have all the time in the world to fuck around. She arches her back when she feels little sparks move up her spine, feeling too good for her to put it into words.

And she doesn’t hate him—of course not! But she likes to bait him because it always works. “Shut up.” Kurogane starts lengthening his strokes in the way Yuko likes. Refuses to look at her face while he does it, but he does slide his thumb over her clitoris, making her sigh.

“So rude.” Yuko does her best to keep Kurogane close, crossing her legs behind his back. Presses them closer, and she laughs when he groans into her ear. A high-pitched moan as his thumb picks up the pace. Feels herself leak everywhere. Gets up on her elbows, their foreheads pressed together.

I love you so much, I question myself. You make me so happy that I wonder if I’m delusional. She smiles first, and Kurogane reciprocates. He leans forward, their bodies twining together. Their hands go everywhere—he cups her breast, she runs her hands over his muscles, urging each other to go faster. Yuko kisses him on the mouth, and Kurogane reciprocates, pausing to kiss her properly. She takes his face in her hands, feels completely happy and in love. Caught up in the moment, smiling while kissing.

“You have the dumbest look on your face.” She kisses his upper lip, so that he knows that she’s just teasing. Kurogane, typical man, isn’t about to get distracted right now.

A loud noise from the hall—Maru’s loud meowing, probably for attention. They both pause, before Yuko tilts her hips and Kurogane gets back to it. They move together, picking it up because the pets interrupt them at the worst times. They breathe into each other’s faces, and Yuko reaches up to embrace Kurogane.

The meowing keeps getting louder, a demand for a third dinner. The noise isn’t usually so bad, but it hurts the mood. Yuko and Kurogane keep looking into each other’s eyes, trying to focus. Yuko’s toes curl as all the good feelings well up inside of her, her mouth falling open as the really, really good part comes, right on the verge, on the precipice, body on fire—

“No, no, no!” Yuko totally wilts as Kurogane pulls away from her, standing up to close the bedroom door, Maru’s meowing too much for him. She leaves her body open, limbs falling away from her body, wet and hot and touched all over. “Kurogane!”

“Stop whining,” he says, “I’m not going away forever.” He walks back over to the bed, and the hickey Yuko left on his stomach makes her miss him more. She reaches out for him, impatient as his weight shifts the mattress.

“You stopped,” she sighs, only a little appeased when he pulls her closer, angling their bodies together. Yuko relaxes when he’s back inside of her, a smile spreading across her face, closing her eyes. Yes, finally.

“Edging isn’t so bad.” Kurogane takes a hold of Yuko’s hips, and she can feel his resolve inside of her. Makes her feel hot all over. Wanted, is the word. She moves her hand between her legs, circling her clit with the tips of her fingers, opening her eyes to Kurogane’s serious face, feeling her body out.

“I’ll end your life next time you do something like that.” But not this time, because he’s pulling her even closer, forcing a soft noise out of her throat. Total and full. She looks up at Kurogane and sees pink hearts around his face. A woman in love is entitled to a few hallucinations, Yuko tells herself.

“Not likely.” Kurogane hasn’t made himself indispensable, but she knows that he wouldn’t want to go without. They’re at the age where they can appreciate what a pain dating is and don’t want to mess with what works. She hasn’t had that pins-and-needles feeling all over her body at the anticipation of having someone’s mouth on her body with anyone else, in a very long time. Being without Kurogane sometimes manifests as a very real physical ache. It’s not the most romantic sentiment but they’re not a particularly romantic couple.

Her stomach flips when he leans down, hand by her head, muscles tense, hips snapping against hers. He stares at her with intent, and she can’t help but get on her elbows, easy for him especially when it hurts a little. Smiles at the way he moves in and out of her, never leaving her fully, because there’s no place that feels better.

Nothing feels as good as Kurogane either. Yuko has tried, a little bit, but her fingers and toys just aren’t the same. Nothing beats his warm body caging around hers, protecting her, his penis deep inside of her, places she is hesitant to reach for without him, his reassuring presence because he’s always right here, with her.

When she cranes her neck, she can see their bodies in her mirror, and she can’t help but think that they look really beautiful, hypnotizing really. Watches her hand find his lower back, urging him forward, encouraging him to come closer. Please let me love you. Her eyes flick back up to his face, and he’s looking right at her, face flushed, concentrating. She lets him make her come first because she knows he needs it, have her body grow soft, her eyes get big, soft noises to let him know that it’s okay now, that it’s all good, that he did right by her.

His hips press to hers for the last time, seconds that feel longer than they are but not long enough for Yuko. A reminder that this is what lovers do when he takes his time leaving her body. Still hovers over her as she sits up, scoots away from him.

“You’re still on my shitlist.” Yuko gets up first, reaches for a robe. Being playful with him because he can take it. Looks down as she ties the knot, smiling to herself.

“Good, cos you’re still on mine.” Kurogane gets up too, finds his sweatpants and shakes them out to get rid of the dust bunnies. Yuko watches him step into them, before there’s another loud meow.

“She probably wants food,” Yuko says, beating out Kurogane’s inevitable complaint. “I’ll handle it.”

“Yeah, okay.” Kurogane is now looking around the floor, probably for his t-shirt, which ended up who knows where. She doesn’t want him to find it, but that’s her selfish, horny brain speaking.

She swallows, leaving her bedroom. Smiles down at Maru, who immediately rubs her legs. She’s not sure where Moro is hiding but knows that she’ll come out for food. Pads down the hallway, isn’t ready for Kurogane sneaking up behind her and catching her waist. She screams, loving it, feels him laughing against her. Kurogane doesn’t usually act so infatuated with her, or like a boy who likes a girl, so Yuko revels in it. Tingles when his teeth press to her shoulder. Catches sight of them in a mirror, and blushes like a girl who likes a boy.

**

“We should try roleplay sometime.” Yuko is sitting at her table, painting her nails the perfect shade of crimson while Kurogane stands over the stove, fixated on cooking bacon. Kurogane snorts, doesn’t look up at her.

“You’re already my torturer, is that not enough?” His playful moods never last very long. It’s what makes them so cute. Yuko couldn’t deal with him being soft all the time. She wouldn’t like him at all.

“I could be a hot cop.” It has been a long time since her last relationship, and Yuko thinks that it would be fun to play around. Go to a sex store and buy a low-cut, short dress with a zipper at the front. Wear a dumb hat and play with some silly accessories. Having an excuse to tie down Kurogane would be nice too. She bets he’d like it, deep down.

“You hate cops.” Kurogane does have a valid point there.

“Or a sexy nurse?” Yuko prefers white over blue anyway. She’s a better enforcer than healer but it’s the uniform that matters more to her.

“Your lack of medical training wouldn’t allow me to suspend my disbelief.” Kurogane yawns, walks over to the fridge. “Do you have any orange juice?”

“In the fridge.” Yuko could comment on his lack of imagination, but Kurogane has always been honest about not seeing her vision. It’s something that endears him to her, rather than turns her off.

From behind an armchair, Moro comes out, hopping onto the arm of the couch. Pads over to Yuko, seeking affection. Yuko picks her right up, holding her like a baby. Scratches her chin, then gets a good look at her left eye, covered in green goo. Some has crusted over, but most looks fresh.

Frowning, Yuko stands up, walks over to the kitchen where Maru is weaving around Kurogane’s legs, hoping for some bits of breakfast if she’s cute enough. Megetsu waits in the corner, knowing the Kurogane rewards patience. The Mokonas are still in their enclosure, munching on hay. In other words, it’s all quiet.

“Can you get me a wet towel?” Yuko asks, “there’s something on Moro’s eye.” Kurogane doesn’t even look over, stepping away from the stove to do as Yuko asks. Makes sure that the water is lukewarm with his wrist, takes the initiative to wipe Moro’s face clean. Frowns when the gunk is clear, leans in to look at her eye.

“It’s all red,” he says, looks up at Yuko. “I think it’s infected.” Sighs to himself, strokes Moro’s cheek. “We should go to the vet.”

“Okay,” Yuko says, “I’ll make an appointment today. And should we—”

“Yeah, on it.” Kurogane goes to where the plastic bags are. Takes one out, sticks the dirty paper towel in it. Seals it, forever a dutiful pet parent. Or stepparent. Yuko isn’t sure which.

She walks over to her phone, picks it up and unlocks it. Calls the vet, makes an appointment for later today. Moro squirms, wiggles out of her arms, lands with ease on all four feet. Hides away as if knowing about the vet. Yuko can’t blame her; she hates it there too.

**

It’s an eye infection.

Eye drops several times a day. Yuko wraps Moro in a towel, holding her while Kurogane gives her eyedrops, swearing to himself the whole time. Proving themselves to be responsible, even though neither of them doubted their capabilities. Kimihiro comments on it when he sees it, that Kurogane and Yuko are rising to the occasion despite their heavy drinking and petty bickering.

Others notice it too. They don’t know what to make of this sign of adulthood. People get pets but it’s different to take care of them when they stop being cute and end up costing money. Yuko lets the questions roll off her back, but Kurogane gets offended for them. Doesn’t like these kinds of questions about their commitment. What do our friends think we are, that we’re monsters?

Fai, however, says nothing like that. Having spent five years being taken care of by Kurogane and even longer watching Yuko pick up pieces of herself that Clow left behind, he knows that they are capable of anything. Doesn’t even make a big deal of understanding them better then they understand themselves.

“Do you think she’s eating okay?” Kurogane asks, holding Moro up, squinting at her stomach. Yuko, who is sitting beside him, cranes her neck to see, blocking his own view. Fai is sitting on the armchair, Maru on his shoulder, sipping a beer.

“I think she looks fine,” Yuko says, leaning back into her seat. Leans over to pick up her beer from the coffee table, takes a sip. Kurogane frowns, but still sets Moro down, and she immediately runs to Fai, the only person in the room who hasn’t been torturing her for the last few days. Fai picks her up in his arms, always full of love to give to others, even if he can’t show himself the same care. One of the flaws that kept him and Kurogane apart.

But at the same time, they’re still very good friends. The deep soul connection doesn’t need romance to sustain it, which brings them both immense comfort. After four amazing years, and one disastrous one, it’s a miracle that they are still on friendly terms. But if asked, Fai would say that he never wanted to cut Kurogane out of his life, and Kurogane would say the same thing about Fai. It would be too awful to live without the other.

Which is why Fai can come here and visit Kurogane and his new partner, take delight in Kurogane’s first proper foray into domesticity. “It’s pretty cute to watch you two play cat parents,” Fai says, a big smile on his face as he holds Moro up. “Is it nice to have a Daddy and a Mommy who love you?”

“Don’t call me that,” Kurogane huffs, reaching for his own beer. “I’m not a father.”

“I don’t know,” Fai hums, “you’re always on Moro about her weight. Maybe that makes you the Mommy, actually—”

“Oh, shut up!” Kurogane leans back against the couch, a big angry look on his face, teeth practically pointy.

“Aw, it’s cute!” Fai gets a positively evil look on his face, delighting in Kurogane’s irritation. Always easy to get under his skin, make a place for himself there.

“I’m just being a good person, that’s it.”

“I don’t know why you’re resisting the obvious,” Fai says, “you clearly love this cat. And for good reason—she’s very cute!”

“I don’t like watching suffering, that’s it,” Kurogane says, standing up. He steps around the coffee table, heading to the kitchen. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Aw, don’t say that Mommy!” Fai smiles, looks to Yuko while Kurogane squawks, offended. “What do you say Daddy?”

“I say leave him alone,” Yuko says, “he works hard and deserves some respect.” She winks at Kurogane, who had turned around to yell at Fai and is stunned that Yuko took his side for a change. She’s usually one to enjoy teasing, but he has earned peace, in her opinion.

Fai lets out a low whistle, pouts a little. “Damn, so that’s how it is,” he says, “what happened to being my friend?”

“I’ve got a boyfriend to keep happy,” Yuko shrugs, “he may not love me anymore if I take your side. It’s nothing personal.”

“That sounds plenty personal,” Fai says, “but it’s okay. Being a kind-hearted person, I forgive you.” He smiles big again, and Yuko giggles, sealing the truce to fight that they didn’t really have.

Kurogane says nothing, knowing that their alliance gives him peace but guarantees his suffering at the same time. Just grunts, goes to the business of making popcorn while Yuko and Fai choose a movie. Good host, even to his own detriment.

**

It’s two in the morning before Fai decides that he’s not committed to staying up until sunrise. Yuko is relieved since she and Kurogane’s schedules have been running around wrestling Moro into a towel and giving her eyedrops four times a day. Kurogane passed out on the couch right after Fai left, claiming to need just a second to close his eyes. He lay there, stretched out on his back, Moro curled up next to his head. Looked very peaceful, mouth open but no snoring.

She found him in the same place in the morning, had to wake him up herself when she picked up Moro and sat on top of him. She watches him grunt and open his eyes, apparently not surprised but definitely annoyed to have been woken up. Yuko flashes him a smile, which he does not return.

“You’re so cute when you’re asleep,” she says, pulling her fingers through his hair. “It’s a shame that you have such a terrible personality when you wake up.”

“I’m much nicer to other people.” Kurogane pokes her in the side, and she perches on the edge of the couch, allowing him to sit up. “Did you give her the eyedrops?”

“Not yet,” Yuko says, holding Moro up. Her eye looks much better—already, there is no more discharge. “It’s looking good.”

“Because we follow the instructions.” Kurogane maneuvers around Yuko to stand, then goes over to the kitchen, where the eyedrops are. Still in last night’s clothes, probably smells most like himself now.

She stands up, follows him. Adjusts her hold of Moro, who tenses in her arms. After many days of practice, Yuko knows how to secure Moro close to her body, gentle but firm. Her arms are covered because she’s wearing a robe, but the fabric is thin and silky, not offering much protection if Moro were a meaner cat.

“You ready?” she asks, sidling up next to Kurogane. He takes off the cap off the bottle of eyedrops, sets it down on the counter before turning to her and taking hold of Moro’s face. Moves fast, just like the vet tech taught him. Yuko feels privileged to witness his care, see his devotion. She calls him Daddy to get under his skin but the more she gets to know him, she can picture him being a father.

“You’re good at caring for Moro, you know.” Yuko means it as a genuine compliment. Kurogane lets got of Moro’s face, strokes the top of her head, right between her ears.

“I’d feel bad if she were in pain.” He then closes the eyedrops, sets the bottle down on the counter.

“You’re a good guy,” Yuko says, setting Moro down on the counter, even though Kurogane hates it. Moro runs away, leaping down and bolting to hide in the bathroom. When he doesn’t answer, Yuko turns back up to him, puts her arms around his neck. “Maybe I will let you put a baby in me one day.”

“Absolutely not.” Kurogane wrinkles his nose, tries to free himself from Yuko but she laughs and clings harder. “You probably spawn instead of give birth—”

“Not spawn!” Yuko interrupts him, not the least offended. Smooches him on the cheek and he groans, although he pulls her closer, hand on her ass, under her robe.

“Or you lay eggs,” he says, talking right into her ear. Feeding into it because he doesn’t mean any of it at all. Her nerves tingle when he squeezes her ass, and it makes her tummy flutter.

“I’ll lay every last one inside of you,” Yuko reaches a hand under his t-shirt, snaking it up his back. Gestures at their knot but wants him to get them there.

“Freak,” he says, before kissing her neck. Giving it up easy this time. Yuko sighs, pleased with the contact. Thrilled that he played into it, that he isn’t blowing her off to deal with the rest of their day. Fuck around the way people in love are meant to. “What happened to the sexy nurse thing?”

“You weren’t into it, remember?” Yuko starts trying to pull him back towards the couch, eager to have him inside of her again. Takes joy in her desire.

“I hate when you wear clothes anyway.” His hand ends up between her legs, and Yuko feels the familiar bone-deep ache of lust that is about to be realized. When the pad of his middle finger drags along her clit, it takes everything inside of her not to jump him.

“So, I should always be naked?” She turns her head to kiss him, but Kurogane holds out, mouth just over her own.

“It should be illegal for you to wear clothes.”

“I feel the same way about you.”

They take each other’s clothes off, somehow get to the couch without falling over. Kurogane is naked last, but he doesn’t make her wait. Has her on top, her body opening easily. Sinking down, giving always. Presses right down, smiles at the groan that leaves Kurogane’s body. He has had her in every position, every way, but it always feels different.

Yuko makes her own noise, mouth open in a smile that reaches her eyes, gripping onto his shoulders for leverage. Enjoys herself as their hips move together, his hands on her ass, encouraging her to move in the way he likes. All this is for him, she decides. Yuko laughs when he presses his teeth into her left breast, over her heart. She’d let him devour it—maybe he already has, love making him a metaphorical cannibal.

And then he finds her clit and the world goes sideways, Yuko not ready for it. Steady pressure on the most sensitive place making long strokes feel more intense. To avoid digging her nails into him, she reaches out to press one palm into the wall behind his head, the other hand holding onto the back of the couch. They don’t even talk, just making soft noises, the sounds of sex.

He moves his hand from between her legs, giving her a break, making her swear because she’s angry that he stopped but grateful that he’s making it last longer. He cups her breast, wetness on his fingertips marking her. Swipes his thumb over her heart, in an arch, like a rainbow, she thinks. So sweet, she sighs and kisses him on the mouth.

Not much longer to go, she can tell by the way Kurogane’s thumb starts moving against her clit, trying to get her off quick. Yuko cups the back of his neck, looks right at him, and smiles because this means that she’s the winner, even though it’s not about that.

He still comes first, but he sets her down and eats her out after. Yuko inhales sharply every time his tongue slides over a nice place. When he sucks on her clitoris, she loses her mind and pulls him closer. If this worries him, he doesn’t show it. She feels his shoulders tense under her thighs, and he somehow gets closer.

Her ensuing orgasm leaves her feeling like goo, everything inside of her warm and soft now. Kurogane moves her thighs apart, sets his arms on them, looking up at her face. Dumb look on his face, all tired too.

“I really love you.” Yuko doesn’t know what possesses her to say it, since it’s obvious. Corny too. However, when she looks down at him, she can’t help but feel it.

“Cool.” Clearly distracted, Kurogane stands up, rubbing his face, looking for his clothes. Frowns when he sees that Maru and Moro are sleeping on his sweatpants.

Yuko blinks, her wiped brain and soft feelings making it hard for her to react with her usual wit. “You take care of me, and you care for my pets—”

“Well, I live here—”

“But you can’t say it?” she asks, looking up at him. Understanding dawns on his face, both surprised to hear that she said it out loud because she needs to hear it said to her. Yuko, usually full of confidence, doesn’t need a man, and is entirely self-made, also needs a little love too. It’s her dirty secret.

Kurogane doesn’t consider himself good at affection outside of sex. He shows up and does what he needs to do, takes care of those he loves, but he doesn’t see himself as the guy who can be cutesy on the fly, without effort.

“Yeah, I love you too,” he says, awkward because he’s naked and saying it, cats having stolen his pants, an equally naked Yuko looking up at him with her legs still open. She grins, clearly into it.

“Took you long enough.”

“And it’ll take me forever next time,” he huffs, reaching forward to help her stand up. Takes her hands in his, strong grip, one of the innately masculine things he does that makes her want to kiss him all over.

“But there’ll be a next time.” Yuko doesn’t pose a question because she’s certain that it’s him and her. Kurogane rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, if I don’t kill myself first.” Kurogane is only a little offended when she laughs out loud.

Chapter Text

When Yuko was a child and still had her dreams, she wanted to study butterflies. She collected butterfly charms, wore baby-tees and tank tops with butterflies on them, read all the books that she could find in the library. From ages six to twelve she was determined to grow up and become a scholar of the creatures that best represent the flux and ephemeral nature of life.

Then she turned thirteen, got her period, and ended up in a class with a boy who ripped the wings off butterflies in front of her. The sight made her skin crawl, and when she told him to stop, he looked her right in the eye and kept doing it.

Yuko screamed so loud that her voice gave out. The teacher and principal yelled at her for making such an awful sound. The boy went unpunished. Yuko stopped wearing butterfly clips in her hair, because the world doesn’t care about precious, beautiful things.

“Why’d you get the tattoo?” Kurogane traces the butterfly on Yuko’s back with a finger, dipping under the edge of her tube top to reach the bottom of one wing. Yuko rolls her shoulders back, stares at the mug that she’s washing by hand because the dishwasher is broken.

“I was trying to relive my girlhood.” Not a lie, but not the truth. Her girlhood decisively murdered, and she wanted to reach back through time and feel more like who she once was.

As if sensing this, Kurogane moves his hand, tapping his fingers down her back, then sliding his hand up the back of her top. Spreads his big hand over the butterfly, must be covering it completely. His hand at her back, and Yuko close her eyes, sighs, leans back into the contact.

“Relive which part?” Kurogane massages her back with the tips of his fingers. Desire collects in all the private places of her body, cradled in Kurogane’s palm.

“The part that didn’t hurt.” That mythic time before she realized what it means to grow up. Early on, she knew that it would be terrible.

Yet, there are also some nice things that came with that. She finishes with the mug, sets it down on the drying rack as Kurogane’s mouth lands on her shoulder. A hot pulse through her body, small sigh from her mouth.

“I wanted to completely understand one tiny thing,” she says, “and butterflies are just so beautiful.”

“They are,” Kurogane breathes onto her shoulder, runs his hand down her back. Somehow, he steps away, leaves a hand on her hip though. When she turns around, his head is tilted, watching her. Raises an eyebrow, frowns at her giggle. “What?”

“It’s funny how you always look suspicious of me.” She reaches out, hooks her fingers into the waist of his jeans, steps up to him. Kurogane puts a hand on her cheek, looks at her with a serious expression.

“You’re always up to something,” he says, “I’ve got to pay attention with you.” There’s always a catch, he likes to say, something his father taught him. Good advice to live by if Yuko were honest.

“The power I could have if I could completely comprehend one tiny bug,” she says, “there’s already so much power in just knowing a name.” Yuko feels her adoration rise in her as Kurogane’s handsomeness properly registers. A big strong man taking care of her, oh my!

“So, you have power over me.” Kurogane slides a hand into the back pocket of her denim miniskirt, squeezes a little, sends a shiver up her spine. How she looked past him for so long, she’ll never know.

“Just as much as you have over me.” She gets on her toes, her arms around his waist. Holds back from kissing him, teasing a little, breathing over his mouth before looking up into his eyes, the intense gaze of a man who is trying not to make assumptions about what is going to happen.

The end of girlhood makes things like this possible. Her hand on the back of his neck, the other hooked over his shoulder, his hand on her ass, the other on her waist, two adults playing out what happens in the gaps left by the romance novels Yuko read as a girl. Knowing this is so much better than being untouched, even if getting there was painful.

On her bed, Yuko lies on her back, watching Kurogane take his place between her legs. Peels her underwear away, throws it somewhere far away. Her top is pushed down, her nipples hard and aching. Skirt pushed up now, grinning at Kurogane as he deals with his pants. Wet at the jingle of his belt, the sound of the zipper, absolute joy when she sees his penis.

“Please,” she sits up, helps him get his t-shirt off. Opens and closes her mouth as he lays her back down under him, his mouth on her neck again. Turns her head, kisses him on the mouth, soft kisses between them. Opens up her body, smiles when Kurogane penetrates her.

What is it that you most want?

 Back when she was a girl, it was power. Now that she’s older, wiser, and without the cynicism of childhood, she just wants for this to never stop. To stay inside of this moment with Kurogane. To live within the feeling of his penis moving in and out of her, the hot and cold between their bodies as he makes a place inside of her for himself. So nice and whole. The muscles in her vagina tense and flutter as her orgasm rises inside of her. She can’t hold out for much longer and gives in right before he does. Looks up at his handsome face, trying to catch her breath.

His breath is hot on her cheek. She tried to fight it, she really did. Can tell that he is too by the intense expression on his face. Love you—I love you! Yuko doesn’t have to say it, nor does she need to hear it, because she knows that this is how they love each other.

What I most want is for you to always love me, in every lifetime, please. Yuko and her selfish wishes, that she never shares lest the universe curse her for wanting someone so bad. She believes that the way their bodies fit together is incriminating enough. The universe isn’t kind enough to let her be happy for very long.

The kiss Kurogane gives her returns her to herself, helps her settle back down into her body. This is how it is going to be, and how it shall remain.

**

Ever since she was little, Tomoyo has loved cute things. She has so many plushies and cheap jewelry shaped like different fruits, that Kurogane wonders if she even knows how much she owns.

By no means a brat, Tomoyo still likes to look at cute things, and often drags Kurogane to the girly accessory stores that she favors when they make time to hang out. He’ll offer to buy her lunch, then she’ll ask him to go on a walk, and then he ends up in a store for teenage girls and women who refuse to grow up.

The store that Tomoyo chose today is like all the others. A cute animal on the sign, a kitten today. The walls are cotton candy pink with white tables and clear plastic shelves. There are racks of cheap jewelry, tables full of toiletries like sunscreen, makeup wipes, and lip balm. Shelves at the back of the store are full of stuffed animals, like cats, pigs, or pandas. There’re practical items like bento boxes, handkerchiefs, and slippers mixed in with glittery lotions full of microplastics. It smells so sweet that it tickles the inside of Kurogane’s nose. 

The sales associates all look at him funny. He’s following Tomoyo around, wearing all his dark clothes, his expression always irritated. He’ll pick up a product, see the price, grunt, and then set it back down. Tomoyo will giggle behind her hand, and he’ll growl out “Don’t say it.”

Looking at a rack of earrings, he notices a pair of purple, glittery butterfly earrings advertised as glow in the dark. He reaches out, picks them up, holds them to his face. They remind him of his conversation with Yuko, about butterflies and power before they ended up in her bed. Kissing her, feeling sucked in by her—loving her, really. To think, the woman he loves used to be a girl who loved butterflies!

People, especially the women in his life, love to act like they don’t think that he pays attention. Yuko can be the worst for it, teasing him for his temper and making sly remarks when he remembers birthdays and anniversaries. She still underestimates his attraction to her, or at least, how long ago he noticed her. Now that they have been together for some time, Kurogane can admit to himself that he never actually thought that she was ugly.

He has a distinct memory of when he noticed her pierced ears. They were in a literature class, and he was watching her pull her hair to the side, revealing the pale nape of her neck. A violent punch of attraction in his throat made him look away, when he caught sight of a silver star twinkling on her earlobe. Made his own ears burn.

The little butterflies twinkle. He’s staring at them so intently, that he doesn’t sense Tomoyo walk up beside him, practically jumps when she touches his elbow. “You should buy them.”

“My ears aren’t pierced. They’d look stupid on me,” he lies, very badly. Tomoyo smiles up at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Yuko has pierced ears.”

“Right,” he sighs, “you know about that.” He looks at the floor, embarrassed as hell that little Tomoyo knows that he and Yuko are seeing each other. Has even seen them acting like a couple, kissing and holding hands.

Tomoyo wanders away, towards the perfume, giving him the space to walk over to the register and quietly buy the earrings. Places them in his pocket, wrapped in the receipt. After walking Tomoyo home, he goes back to Yuko’s place, lets himself in. Finds Kimihiro and Shizuka playing a card game, bickering, Megetsu at Kimihiro’s feet, Maru and Moro on the highest shelves, meowing at him.

When he gets up to Yuko’s apartment, he finds her snoring in her room, passed out on her back, one leg up, the other completely open. He wheezes to himself at her snoring, pulls the earrings out of his pocket. Unwraps the receipt, stuffs it back into his pocket. Walks over to Yuko’s side of the bed, leaves the earrings by her phone. Looks at her beautiful face, totally relaxed and open.

Without thinking, Kurogane brushes her cheek with a curled finger. Feels so in love, that it hurts.

**

When Yuko wakes up, she’s on her back. Kurogane’s big turtleneck is wrapped all around her, the waist of her sweatpants well over her bellybutton. There’s noise from the kitchen, the voices of Kimihiro and Kurogane, the low tones of conversation between men, even though to her, the former is in many ways still a boy. She can’t really imagine what Kimihiro and Kurogane have to talk about, but she knows that they bond over being exasperated with finding strands of her hair everywhere and harassing her into doing her laundry.

Her mouth is dry, so she looks over to her nightstand, sits up and grabs the glass of water she left there. She takes a long sip, before her eyes settle on a pair of unfamiliar earrings by her phone. She swallows, sets the glass down, and then picks them up. Two cheap lilac butterflies, glittery, apparently phosphorescent. Wonders how they could get there, if they were a forgotten impulse purchase, until she hears Kurogane walk towards the bedroom. He sticks his head in, and suddenly, she knows.

“Are these a gift?” she holds up the earrings, not bothering with the niceties because neither of them needs them. Kurogane blinks, frowns, and she can see him become defensive about his softer feelings—something she finds adorable.

“No.”

“So, they’re—what?”

“They just caught my eye.” Kurogane comes into the room, walks over to his side of the bed, looking for something.

“So, you were the one who bought them and left them here?” Yuko watches the gears turn in his brain, deciding how vulnerable he is going to be. She can’t blame him for it. She still gets that way with him, sometimes.

“Yes.” A one-word answer, typical for a man who is avoiding the subject of his own vulnerabilities.

“For me?” Yuko says it in a teasing voice, still finding it funny that he’s this way with her.

“I don’t have pierced ears.” Still avoiding her gaze, dismissing her as silly. Totally fair, so she keeps it up.

“So why buy them?” The logical follow up.

“Tomoyo suggested it.” Keeping it to the point, minimum information only.

“You do everything people tell you?” They both know that this isn’t the case because Kurogane is a stubborn asshole. Insists on being that way if Yuko were honest.

“Only if it’s a good idea.” He relents a little, sheepish expression on his face. Embarrassed to be cornered in this way.

“Buying me a present was a good idea?” Triumphant now, the answer she wanted to hear. I’m worth it.

Silence on his end. Can either admit that he thinks of her too or continue to play himself. Yuko rubs her eye with her free hand, still drowsy. Kurogane remains paused in place, bent over, hand hovering over the book he started to read.

“Yes,” he says, guarded, unfrozen now as he picks up his book. Stands up straight, clears his throat, awkward now. Yuko smiles, decides to wear the earrings. Looks away while she puts them on, but he waits, watching her. She looks up at him, tucks her hair behind her ears and turns her head to show him.

“How do they look?” she asks. Kurogane nods to himself, looking at her the whole time.

“Pretty.” Still a woman in love, Yuko preens at the compliment, delights in it.

Somewhere in the world, a butterfly cracks its way out of a chrysalis into the world and opens its wet wings for the first time. Ending its own childhood, all grown up now, and still, so beautiful.

Chapter Text

It all started with those fucking shoes.

Elbows on the table, Kurogane watches Fai and Yuko titter amongst themselves at the bar, an obnoxious team, giggling to each other. The pair of them awful after they’ve knocked back a few drinks and decide to make mischief. It’s extra bad tonight because Yuko’s new shoes came in, her Y2K dream pair to be specific, talking about them to Kurogane for weeks now.

Blue PVC and plexiglass butterfly wedges, made to look like those plastic shoes little girls play dress up in. Yuko was delighted to find them in her size, ordered them immediately, now the most expensive pair of shoes she owns. Stupid impractical, in Kurogane’s view. Doesn’t see why they needed to take them on a maiden voyage when Yuko wouldn’t even wear them to the bar, instead carrying them with her and dumping Kurogane with the heels she wore over. He’s so bitter, he’s loath to admit that they are cute.

And to be clear, they look good. He just can’t have Yuko win this round.

“Your face will freeze in that ugly expression if you keep frowning.” Amaterasu reaches over the table, presses the pad of her pointer finger dead center between his eyebrows. His scowl deepens, feels the muscles ache in his face.

“They’re always like this,” he says, “it’s annoying.”

“They could hate each other,” Fuma says, looking over his shoulder with a smile. Yuko and Fai are now sitting at the bar, taking pictures of her feet, chatting up the cute bartender. “I think it’s cute that it doesn’t take much for them to have fun.”

“They’re menaces.”

“You fell for both of them,” Fuma says, “I wonder what that says about you.” He raises his eyebrows, annoying as ever and fully owning it.

“Where’s Chi?” Kurogane asks because Chi is Fai’s usual sidekick. Coos at his evil ideas and lets him lay his head on her lap after. In exchange, Fai cleans up the crumbs she leaves behind and acts as her surrogate boyfriend, warding off all the men who want her but don’t want to actually be with her.

“Too busy to save you,” Amaterasu says, pushing her beer to him. “Better drink up.” Her face is neutral as she says it, completely serious. Kurogane scowls, picks up his own drink instead. Downs it, and then decides to go deal with the trouble head on, like a man. Fuma salutes him as he leaves, which isn’t very reassuring. He takes Yuko’s other pair of heels with him, fingers hooked in the ankle straps.

When he walks over to the bar, Fai is leaning against Yuko, both totally hammered, his cheek pressed to her bare shoulder. Fai’s face is all flushed too, smiling like a sweet baby, while Yuko is speaking to him in a conspirational way. All the terrible ideas that she can come up with begin to dance through Kurogane’s head. Streaking, drugs, vandalism—it’s all on the table with those two.

“We’re going home.” Kurogane can tell that if he doesn’t step in now, he’ll curse himself for it later. Yuko and Fai will probably be arrested if they’re allowed to spend any more time together tonight.

“Together?” Yuko hiccups, puts a hand over her mouth. Grins, all goofy. Not remotely cute to Kurogane, but Fai loves her like this. Wraps his arms around her waist, pulls her closer, nearly right off the stool. Kurogane must catch them, and Yuko squeals, reaches out for him. “You’re such a big strong man!”

“Get off me,” he huffs, pushing her arms away. Has to grab her again to keep her from falling over. Doesn’t apologize, squeezes her arms. Yuko still smiles, drunk and happy.

“You’re such a grump,” she says, sticking out her chin. “If you let me stay, I will suck your dick.” She makes this proposal like it’s a real bargaining chip, as if this isn’t something she does voluntarily already. She gentle as she peels Fai’s arms away from her body, pushes them away. Catches Kurogane’s cheek in her hand, stands up to kiss him above his top lip.

As is typical between them, when Yuko’s affection is public, Kurogane pretends like it’s nothing. Her sticky sweet lip gloss definitely transfers to his face, and he wipes it away with the heel of his hand. “You got your lip stuff on my face.”

“Lip gloss.” Yuko corrects him, stands up and puts her arms around his neck. Hangs off him now, her breath reeking of alcohol. “Be specific in your complaints.”

“Fine—I don’t like it when you get your lip gloss all over me, especially when I’m trying to get you to go home.” He sighs, places his hand on the small of her back. “You got to show all your friends and the freaks your new shoes, let’s go home and go to sleep.” Now that she’s so close again, he doesn’t want to part from her.

“What about Fai?” she says, looking back over. Fai is leaning against the bar, his elbow on the counter, his chin on his fist, a ridiculous expression on his face. Looks up, eyes glowing with joy.

“Yeah, what about me?” he asks, smiling like a fool.

“Amaterasu’s problem.” Kurogane bops Yuko’s cheek, smiles when he sees her frown. “Are you boyfriend and girlfriend now?”

“Yes,” she says, “Fai is a romantic and kisses better.”

“You say that with an awful lot of certainty.” Kurogane replies. He knows both of these to be a fact, but he doesn’t want Yuko to know that he’s capable of being laidback.

“You get to have him, but not me?” Yuko kisses his jawline, being almost inappropriate. Kurogane rolls his eyes, scowls at a giggling Fai.

“We’re not doing this here,” he turns his head away, not giving in to his animal instincts. Yuko sighs, just embracing him then, pressing her face into his chest. She gloms on harder, making him feel embarrassed, for him, for her, for Fai as he giggles and slinks away back to Amaterasu and Fuma. Fai sits in Kurogane’s old seat, picks up his drink, claiming it for himself.

Despite what a pain in the ass she is, Kurogane kind of likes this part, though he’ll never admit it. “Stop,” he says, “we’re in public.”

“That’s what makes it so fun.” Yuko steps up closer, acting sweeter, getting cozy now. “You promise that you’re going to take me home?”

“Yes,” he replies, “I’m dragging you home, even if I have to carry you on my back.”

“I’m wearing a very impractical outfit for that.” One of her typical low-cut, closefitting dresses. Delicate chains around her neck. Hair up so that everyone can appreciate her outfit.

“Well, I guess you better get walking then.” Kurogane puts an arm around her waist to steady her, grumbles to himself as she waves to her fans, says nothing about her shoes because he’s certain that they can survive the ten-minute walk home.

However, when they step outside the bar and she remembers, Kurogane acquiesces to her fussing and helps her change her shoes. Little red spots where there’re blisters make him frown, ignoring her hand cupping the back of his head, scratching his scalp. He sighs as the tips of her fingers find the top of his spine.

**

The bath is what Kurogane needed to feel like a person again. As he sinks into it, he wonders if he should try and persuade Yuko to join him. Thinks about how nice it would be to press up against her, just sit there in a crowded bathtub and be close.

It’s possible that he could persuade her yet. She’s sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, long legs tucked up in front of her, chin between her knees, on her phone. Had to clean and bandage her blisters from her new shoes, even though she didn’t go far in them. Hello Kitty and hearts, on her heels and big toes, her baby toes too. Wearing her black lacy panties and his big tank top, hair on top of her head. Took off her make up, brushed her teeth with him too. Not paying active attention but still in his orbit, like he could talk her into it. Long limber body folded up, like she’s just waiting for him.

“What’re you doing?” He sits up, drunk, knowing that she is too. She unfolds her legs, stretching them out in front of her body, sitting up straight, stretching out her arms too.

“Sexting Fai,” she says, “I’m trying to convince him to be our third.”

“No way,” Kurogane says, “no, absolutely not, never ever—“

“Oh, but you’ve had both of us!” Yuko says, smiling. “Why can’t Fai and I have sex?” Getting up on her feet, Yuko pads over to the tub. Perches on the edge, leans down. Hair falls past her shoulder, ends now in the water. She holds her phone up to Kurogane’s face, and he rolls his eyes at the porn GIFs and heart emojis that Fai and Yuko have sent each other. Eiffel towers, gang bangs, double penetration. It all looks strenuous and uncomfortable. Kurogane is a little offended that Fai and Yuko would think that he’s into this kind of stuff.

“You two can do whatever you’d like,” Kurogane says, “apparently you two like the same weird shit.”

“You can’t have a threesome without a third term.”

“You’re both cute and superficially charming. Try talking Fuma into it.” He takes Yuko’s phone from her hand, sets it beside the tub. Looks up at her, pretending he’s cool with whatever she decides to do.

Silence, only for a moment, before Yuko tilts her head and smiles, good-natured always. “It wouldn’t be fun without you.” She pats his head. “You’d make the funniest face when Fai’s dick is inside of me—”

“Stop.” Kurogane puts his hand over Yuko’s mouth, but he can tell that she just finds it very funny. She moves his hand away from her face, squeezes it to keep him close.

“You wouldn’t want to see it for yourself?” she asks, with a wink. “Let’s talk about it right now.” A horny smile on her face, she can tell by his scowl, she reaches for his stomach, trails her fingers down, past his belly button, along the little hairs on his body before he catches her hand, knowing where she was heading.

“No,” he says, “not happening.”

“The hand job or—?”

“Neither.” Kurogane holds firm, refusing to engage. After trying a few times, he doesn’t believe in threesomes. Someone always gets left out and few people have the grace to be okay with it (and Kurogane can admit that he would not be okay with it).

It takes a minute, but when Yuko searches his eyes, he can tell that she is really trying to figure it out. Despite all her asshole tendencies, she never actually wants to make him upset, which according to her is different from making him angry or otherwise annoying him, but whatever. It doesn’t matter because he can tell that she’s going to let him have this little win. Yuko hums, sits up. Sighs and pulls her hand away, sets it on her thigh.

“You’re missing out,” she says, “I have a rich fantasy life.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he mumbles, leaning back against the tub. His eyes flick back over to her, and that little part of him that still wants to be close to her becomes a little bit louder. “You can come in here, though.”

“Oh?” she turns her head, mocking smile. “You’ll lower yourself to share your bathwater with me?”

“I lower myself all the time in this relationship.” Kurogane plays it like this because he still has some pride, and he knows that she likes him when he’s being a little resistant.

“Well, if that’s how it is, I’m going to bed.” She bends over to pick up her phone before standing up, the long line of her legs making Kurogane press his tongue to the room of his mouth. He rearranges his face to frown at her, and she laughs, throwing her hair over her shoulders. “I’ll try and stay up for you.”

“Don’t bother,” he sighs, setting his head back against the edge of the bathtub. Looks up at the ceiling, lazy now. “The moment is gone.”

“Crazy how relationships just fall apart like that.” She snaps her fingers, not so much as looking over her shoulder at him. Kurogane turns his head to watch her leave, his neck bent at an uncomfortable angle, before sinking down into the water up to his chin.

**

Next morning’s sunshine can only be described as horrible, violent even. Yuko presses her face into the pillow, angry that she forgot to close the curtains, irritated that Kurogane is sleeping cute, curled around her, giving her no ability to turn around and get more comfortable. Usually, she’s fine with them sleeping so close but this morning she’s unhappy with their sleeping arrangement. He’s lean but feels bulky when he’s pressed against her back with their limbs tangled together.

“Wake up,” she says, nudging him with her elbow, pushing against him. Can feel his morning wood, hopes that it can help convince him to wake up. His hips press to hers, and he mumbles under his breath, something about monsters, his dreamland apparently a fantastical place. She expects nothing less from a loser like him.

He pulls her a little closer, still murmuring to himself. Yuko presses her hips back, and his erection is so close to such a nice place, that she commits to waking him up. He groans when she grinds against him in the right way, and it brings a smile to her face when she looks over her shoulder and sees him raise his head, eyes squinting in the light, yellow crust in the corners. “Good morning,” she says, turning around now that Kurogane is awake, and she doesn’t have to feel so bad about pushing him around.

“How could you forget to close the curtains?” he says, “were you that drunk?”

“You sleep here too,” she says, “and you came to bed after me. I could say that you forgot to close them.”

“Not my place,” he yawns, presses his face into the pillow while Yuko finishes rolling over, throws her leg over his hip. Tries to bring him closer, runs the ball of her foot along his calf. “How’re your blisters?”

“Why’re you talking about my feet?” Yuko asks, slipping a hand past his sweatpants. Feels woozy and excited with his precum on her palm. Kurogane, eyes practically closed, makes a strange face, like he hasn’t decided how to feel just yet. “It’s weird.”

“Caring about you is weird? Noted,” he says, letting Yuko kiss him, rolling on top of her. So big and strong, Yuko thinks to herself as they arrange their limbs around each other. Kurogane folds his arm around Yuko’s head, her hair caught in his elbow.

The way that we’re about to do it…Yuko likes to feel like she’s coming undone. Wants to be fucked into oblivion, feel her body become hot liquid, get all over Kurogane, stain his soul, soak the comforter, the mattress, leave a big mess to be remembered by.

They’re too comfortable to properly take their clothes off. Kurogane pushes his sweatpants down far enough that he’s free, then pushes the shirt she is wearing up over her breasts. Yuko’s breathe catches when she pulls her panties aside and feels how wet she is on her fingers.

Their bodies curl around each other. He hooks his arm under her leg to spread her wide and she guides him inside of her. The stretch feels so good that Yuko gives him a throaty sigh, happy all the way down to her toes. He presses his mouth between her breasts, while Yuko feels a fluttering deep inside of her body. Opens his mouth on a groan and his breath lands on her hot skin, Yuko cupping the back of his neck, moving her hips against his. She closes her eyes, turns her face away because the feelings are too much, Kurogane moving inside of her, breathing on her, mouth on her body. Whatever is leaving Yuko’s body is hot, straight from the core.

Yuko is sensitive now, grinding her hips against his, looking for relief, feeling her body become wet and soft, so turned on that this burning heat is a little bit painful, but she can’t stop either. Bodies rippling together, Kurogane’s mouth ends up on her neck. Curved together, holding each other closer, small movements now because they are both so close, entangled forever.

Chapter Text

“Get out of my way!”

Kurogane, having forgotten his Bluetooth earbuds, has nothing between himself and the hoarse voice of the upper middle-aged, likely unwell, woman who prowls around the park close to his office. She always pushes an old stroller, with a plastic baby doll hanging out, typically precarious, making Kurogane do a double take each time that he sees it, even though he knows that it’s not an actual child.

She’s in a mood today, screaming at the pigeons who hop around and lazily flap their wings to get out of the way. She always looks like she has some place to be, even though there is absolutely no way that she is employed or being invited anywhere. Kurogane looks over at her, pushing around her rickety blue stroller, the doll hanging out the side, a red blanket flapping in the wind. The woman is wearing a navy duffel coat, with short gray hair the way older women like to have their hair cut.

His only thought when he sees her: this is not my problem

Kurogane sees this poor woman every morning, pushing around this plastic baby, squawking and screaming at everybody. He knows that she is probably off the deep end, but after many months of dealing with her, his patience is thin.

It’s not entirely her fault though. The park by his office is the de facto loony bin since the homeless and unwell can’t get on the subway and there’re few places where they can spend their time without judgement from others or harassment from cops. He figures that his organization can pull off the fancy parties because they pay cheap rent in a not so nice part of town. Yuko came to his office once and laughed out loud at the juxtaposition of the complimentary office snacks and the scruffy locals and roving bands of delinquents outside.

During his lunch break, sometimes he’ll sit by the window in his office and watch this woman, screaming at pigeons who never fully flap out of the way, the old men playing chess, the teenagers skipping school to do drugs in this park, selected because no one here is a snitch, for they all hate the police, and the feeling is mutual.

He decides to focus on getting up to his office to do his stupid little tasks. Figures that the woman must be happier here than anywhere else and that he ought to just keep putting up with it, because she’s no worse than anyone else he knows.

**

When he steps into the elevator after work, Kurogane immediately loosens his tie. Sighs, leans against the wall, closes his eyes for a moment. He doesn’t usually have to look so corporate, but he had a few big meetings today and had to be on his best behavior. A professional man but usually believes that the customer is always wrong, so when he gets pulled into meetings with donors, he must put a whole lot of effort into keeping his face neutral, if not friendly. Yuko says that it’s not hard to be nice, but he doesn’t think that she’s all that nice either. She’s just used to being in a position of power and never negotiates. We can’t all be our own boss!

He opens an eye, hits the button for the lobby, doesn’t bother to stand up straight, he’s that tired. Groans when he steps out of the elevator and sees the rain, having forgotten about it. He doesn’t have to despair for long, because Yuko is standing outside the building, holding an umbrella over her head. She’s wearing one of her nice coats, his scarf around her neck, hair tucked in it. Waiting for him in the rain, something he finds a little romantic. Almost smiles as he approaches her, and then he looks beside her and sees the tattered stroller and the plastic baby that belongs to that strange older woman who schleps around this neighborhood. He knows that he’s not going to like whatever reason Yuko has for standing beside the stroller.

“Why do you have that doll?” he asks, walking up to her. Yuko lifts the umbrella so that it’s over his head. She looks up at him, smiles.

“His mom needed someone to keep an eye on him for a few minutes,” she says. “And what do you mean by that doll?”

“I see his owner pushing it around in that old stroller all the time,” he says, “she screams nonsense and scares all the nice girls who work in the office.”

“Who could be scared of her?” Yuko says, “she’s just an old lady.”

“Not everyone frequents the same establishments we have.” Both of them came from privilege but spent their baby adult years partying with all sorts of different characters. He looks down at the doll, leans down to adjust it so that it looks less precarious, pulls the blanket around it so that it looks like an actual baby. Yuko watches him, curious.

“You care.” She smiles, not even teasing, recognizing something in him that he doesn’t want to acknowledge in himself.

“We’re a couple with a baby doll in a stroller. If the doll looks like it’s about to fall out, we’ll have to deal with a lot of awkward questions about having a fake baby.” He stands up straight, takes the umbrella from Yuko.

“But we look normal.”

“That’s the problem,” he says, “it’s why people would want to know about a baby hanging out of a stroller.”

“In this neighborhood?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “I prefer the theory that you just care.”

“Welp, it’s wrong so I hope you can live with that.” Kurogane means it, before looking around them, wondering when that woman will come back so that they can go home. He wants to slide into bed and sleep forever, spend his day off messing around with Yuko. “Do you know when she’s planning to come get her fake kid?”

“I don’t think she’d take too kindly to that statement,” Yuko says, “but she said that she would be back soon. Do you want to just leave?” Kurogane frowns, thinking about it. Wants to be the kind of person who will leave this hunk of plastic behind but can’t bring himself to.

“We should wait.” He reaches for her hand, takes it in his. She squeezes his hand, tucks her chin into his scarf. Kurogane figures he’s never going to get the scarf back, that it became Yuko’s as soon as she wrapped it around her neck. Doesn’t mind because he wants her to keep warm.

**

The woman never showed up to collect her plastic baby. After an hour and a half, Kurogane got tired of waiting and left a note taped to the pole behind them saying that they would come back tomorrow morning with the stroller and doll. Kurogane refused to use the word baby, telling Yuko that it would be suspicious.

Since he’s still paying rent on an apartment he barely uses, Kurogane manages to persuade Yuko that they are going to stay at his place tonight. She called Kimihiro to let him know that he’s on pet duty, gets minimal complaint because he prefers to stay in her spare room than in his apartment all alone. She’s sprawled on the couch, looking through a box of Kurogane’s personal things, found when he was in the kitchen swearing at the bottle opener, which he thought was missing but was actually in the proper spot the entire time he was cursing to himself. Brought her an open bottle of beer, only to find Yuko giggling at his old passport.

She tilts her head, smiling at the picture, not looking at Kurogane. “You were so cute,” she coos, “all grumpy and frowny.” This is, of course, false. He mean-mugged the camera in such a way that, when he got his passport, his father said that he looks like he works for a secret police force or an intelligence service. Kurogane hadn’t meant to look so angry. His mother sighed and asked him when he went and grew up into a man behind her back. I wanted you to be little forever.

“You didn’t find me cute at the time,” Kurogane says, setting the beer down on the table beside her. “Why’re you looking through my things?” He looks down at the box. It’s the one where for keepsakes that don’t have any immediate purpose in his life. Loose pictures of his parents, old passports and IDs, sentimental ticket stubs and postcards.

“I want to get to know you better, but you would never show me things like this voluntarily,” she replies, finally looking up at him. On her knee, there’s a picture of him as a child with both of his parents. His father is looking at his mother, intensely infatuated even though they were married with a kid.

“It never occurred to you to not go looking.”

“I’m an open book.”

“There’re things you don’t talk about.” He can’t bring himself to point out that she never talks about her parents. He has never met them, nor does she seem to have any pictures of them. They might as well not exist. The only other person who is consciously absent from photos is Clow, for understandable reasons. Yuko said that Clow’s smiles have always belied malice, even when he was a child, and that getting rid of the photos felt like destroying a cursed object. Not wanting her to feel obligated to talk about things she’d rather forget, Kurogane gives her an out. “I should get rid of the passport.”

“Absolutely not,” she replies, “it’s evidence that I was blind as a teenager.” She sits up, places the passport back in the box. Picks up the picture from her knee, smiles down at it. “You know, you were a really cute kid. Even when you’re making mean faces, it’s obvious that you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I do have a mugshot.” Thankfully, his parents were dead for that part. He was an angry young man with something to prove, ran into the wrong people at the right time. Sôma bailed him out but she made him sleep on the couch for an entire week, even though the cops decided not to press charges. He remembers how his masculine bravado crumbled when she cried over his bruised knuckles and told him that it was scary to see him act like that. It still took years for him to stop being such a brute, but the sad look in Sôma’s wet eyes still haunts him.

“Well, your delinquent years were hot too.” Yuko smiles to herself, holds her cheek now. “You look so much like your dad that it’s like your mother just made a copy of him.”

“If it helps, he was a much better person then me,” he replies, “you got the worse man.”

“I don’t agree,” she says, “your father doesn’t seem like he’d defend my honor.”

“He would,” Kurogane says, “you wouldn’t even have to be sleeping with him for him to do it.”

“You were so cute,” she says, tapping his little baby face with the tip of her finger. Changes the subject because she’s apparently happy to have the son with no interest in the father.

“I was ugly.” A total monkey of a kid too. Always climbing everywhere, running around the house even after being scolded. “If we weren’t together, you’d agree with me.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Yuko hums, tilting her head back and forth.

Without thinking too hard, he sits next to her on the couch, picks up the beer he brought her and takes a sip. Yuko moves over to make room, still looking at the photo. “It’s nice to see how happy you grew up.” Comes out without thinking, he can tell because she gets quiet after. Not one to let sentimentalities slip out like that, she leans over to put the photo back in the box. “So, we’re staying here tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says, “we’re going to need to go out for dinner.”

“You going to take me somewhere romantic?” Yuko throws her arms around his neck, teasing him, nuzzling up to his chest. Kurogane rolls his eyes, puts his hand on her head because if he resists, she’ll just make it worse.

“Why would I do that?” he asks, taking a sip of beer. Yuko smiles, lets him set the beer down.

“Because I’m a pretty girl who deserves to be shown off.”

He thinks that’s the end of her teasing, and then she leans up, cups his cheek. Plants soft kisses, adoring kisses, on his chin, his mouth, his jaw, even the tip of his nose. Kurogane pretends to resist for a minute, before giving in. Helps her onto his lap, pushing her skirt up past her hips. Yuko unbuttons his shirt, trying to get closer. Puts her hands on his bare shoulders now, under his shirt, moving to the back of his neck.

“There’s a baby in here.” Yuko gets it out between kisses, no stopping on their way to more. Kurogane slides a hand between her legs, feels her wet panties.

“It’s not a real baby.” Kurogane is always game, wherever they are. Yuko pulls her shirt over her head, her breasts spilling over the edge of her lace bra. He slides her panties over, starts touching her gently.

“Get naked too.” Yuko says this right in his ear, takes his wrist in her hand and pushes it away. Kurogane groans, since he was starting to get into it, and he thought they were past needing to take all their clothes off. “I’ll say please.”

“Don’t bother,” he huffs, getting rid of his shirt, scowling when she gets off him, shimmies out of her underwear, smiling like she has a secret for him. Like she knows her effect on him. The fly of his trousers stops cooperating, and he grumbles to himself. Yuko giggles, then starts laughing at the irritated look he shoots in her direction. He turns away to deal with his clothes, not wanting his temper to get the better of him.

When he’s naked, he turns back to her. Catches her staring at him, hungry, and it makes him feel good. Likes that she’s into him the way that he’s into her. She takes off her bra last, biting her lower lip, letting it drop to the floor.

“Let’s try this again,” he says, getting between her legs. Pushes one leg to the top of the couch, leans down over her. Runs a hand between them, strokes his erection while looking at her face. Yuko tilts her head, smiles then shrugs.

“You’re this happy to see me?”

“For once,” he says, not really meaning it. Another stroke, holding out on her. Presses his arm above her head, looks down between their bodies. Gives her the tip but holds out. Feels the smile on his face when Yuko’s body reacts to his, her hips moving towards his, the familiar grip as he moves deeper. Darts his eyes up to her face, wants to be an asshole but can’t when she looks so happy to be here with him.

Their moans are all soft, spilling from their mouths. His hips dictate the pace, her body wet and soft, easy for them to be together for all their disagreements and bickering. This part is always worth it. Even though, and Kurogane may live to regret admitting this to himself, he’s happy to watch her stupid campy movies, listen to her horny music, and pick up after her and her pets because he knows that she’s content to sit through his shounen anime and sports games, buy him manga, and listen to him prattle on about his petty complaints. It hits different knowing that she loves him for being annoying. Security is probably the word.

I’m so lame now. But so is Yuko and if they are in the same boat, they might as well enjoy their time together. Little bursts shoot up his body, landing all over—behind his eyes, the back of his neck, tops of his shoulders, all his fingers and toes. Lengthens his strokes to keep it going longer. Knows it’s the right thing when her hands land on his shoulders. One of her hands moves to the side of his neck, her hips rolling with his, catching and keeping him.

Giving up on being cool, Kurogane kisses Yuko’s cheek, affection coming easy when they’re so close to each other. Soft sounds as her body gets tighter, pulling him closer, telltale fluttering as he leans into the pull of her body. So good that he wonders if there is a law against this much happiness. He never thought that he’d ever feel this good in a relationship after Fai. How he ended up so lucky, he’ll never know.

It’s all wet between them when Yuko comes, and he just makes it messier. There’s a wet spot on the couch when Kurogane pulls away. He sighs through his nose, points to the spot when Yuko looks at him like he’s being ridiculous. She sits up, keeping her legs open. “Shit.” All she has to say on the matter, apparently. Kurogane blinks.

“Yep,” he says, “shit.”

**

The next morning, Yuko refuses to get out of Kurogane’s bed. She moaned when he nudged her, trying to remind her that she was the one who signed them up for baby duty. Soft-hearted, Kurogane can’t bring himself to commit to waking her up. Tells himself that it’s because she’s a bigger pain in the ass awake then asleep, but that’s not the truth. He just cares for her.

It’s a cold, windy morning—a great day to be in bed, snoozing next to Yuko, his head in the pillow. Instead, he’s outside the building where he works, freezing his ass off, waiting for this loony woman to show up and claim her plastic baby. The entire way here, women were smiling at him, like he’s a total angel, not noticing that the baby isn’t real and assuming that Kurogane is a father. It’s unsettling that he’s that old now, that fatherhood looks normal on him. A horrible realization, on his day off too!

It’s early enough that Kurogane was able to get a bench that is usually claimed by drug addicts or misbehaving teenagers on weekday mornings. He’s scrolling through some manga updates while smoking one of Yuko’s cigarettes, which he usually gives her a hard time about, but they do come in handy. Makes him feel like less of a loser for being a grown man catching up on Chainsaw Man this early in the morning.

A few of the regulars begin to emerge. The old man who feeds the pigeons is standing by his favorite tree. The teenage girl who wears a lot of makeup and clothes parents don’t approve of is lighting her own cigarette, a beat-to-hell paperback under her arm. Older women running their morning errands glare at each of them. Kurogane supposes that he’s being stared at because he’s smoking beside a stroller with a baby. He’d probably judge himself too—he only knows that his own father used to smoke from pictures of him as a teenager. Loving a woman makes a man soft, loving a baby makes a man change.

“You kidnapped my son.” Smelling like jasmine and heavy delusion, the woman is standing over Kurogane, imposing on his personal space. “And you’re smoking in front of a baby!” She snatches the cigarette from his fingers, throws it to ground and grinds it down with her foot.

“You left him with strangers.” Kurogane watches her reach for the baby, all swaddled. She snatches the blanket away, hangs the doll upside down to inspect it.

“You didn’t touch him or do anything weird, right?” she asks, glaring at him rudely. Kurogane scowls.

“Absolutely not.”

She holds the baby closer to her body, cradling it in her arms, cooing. Asking it if it’s okay. Patting its stomach, cupping the back of its head like it’s a real baby. Kurogane watches her, not having had an opportunity to look at her closely before. For an unhinged person, her clothes are clean, and her nails are neat. Smells nice enough around the spiritual stink of insanity. It strikes him that there is someone who cares about her. Wants her to have nice clothes and to bathe regularly. Thinks to himself that this woman, for all her bizarre behavior, matters to someone too. His realization of her humanity overwhelms him. He feels terrible because he thinks that he should have felt this way all along.

One of the few good realizations that came with adulthood is that while Kurogane can’t change things from the past, he can shape the future into something different. “If you want, I’ll buy you a coffee.” Kurogane tries to sound friendly, but he’s not very good at it. He can tell by the way that the lady regards him with suspicion. She holds the doll closer to her body, turning its little face to her chest.

“Just give me the money and I will buy it myself.” Kurogane thinks about being lippy, telling her not to be so exacting in her demands, that this is an act of charity. I’m the one who is gainfully employed!

Then he thinks about how he’d want someone to treat a person he loves, and he can’t find it in himself to give her a hard time. He stands up, takes out his wallet. She watches him take out some cash, hands it to her. She takes it from him slowly, like she expects him to snatch it back out of her hand.

“This is too much,” she mutters, tucking the money into her pocket. He shrugs, puts away his wallet.

“Whatever,” he replies, walking away without looking back. Too awkward to say goodbye, and he figures that she probably feels the same. Besides, Yuko is at his place, and he doesn’t want to give her more opportunities to go through his personal belongings.                                                                                                                                                                                       

**

The entire journey home, Kurogane thinks about all the important people in his life. His regular visits to his parents’ graves, keeping a place for them in his life. Growing up with Sôma, Amaterasu, and Tomoyo, seeing who they have become and carrying their secrets. Getting to watch Syaoron and Sakura fall in love. Dealing with Fai both as a lover and friend, how he never wants them to be on bad terms. Rooting for Kimihiro to get the girl. Taking care of all of Yuko’s troublesome pets. And then there’s Yuko herself. Wicked witch, regretfully the queen of his heart (blech).

When he gets home, Yuko is awake in the kitchen, trying to make breakfast. A carton of eggs is open, and there’s some chopped tomato and peppers, some cheese and green onion too. Making one of her little omelets, one for him too apparently. Her hair is in a ponytail, and she’s wearing an apron over his black t-shirt and her pink undies. The coffeemaker is on, and the glass sliding door is open, letting the cool air in. Horny crooning in the background, touch me touch me touch me let’s make a baby punctuated by the sounds of the rain and traffic.

Yuko doing her best to be domestic, even though it’s weird as hell to watch. Nothing is burning and he doesn’t even mind the song she’s listening to. He kicks off his shoes, takes off his coat, hangs it up. “Good morning!” Yuko calls over her shoulder, standing over the stove, clearly about to assemble everything together.

“Morning.” Kurogane walks up behind her, peeks over her shoulder at the hot skillet, watches her push butter around with a spatula. There are beaten eggs in a bowl beside the stove, pepper and salt already added. “You’re making breakfast?”

“I know how to cook,” she says, “I just prefer not to do it.”

“So, why’re you doing it this morning?” he asks, “I figured we could just go out for breakfast.” There’re lots of cheap places around. They wouldn’t even have to go that far.

“Because I thought it’d be nice to cook for you.” She turns her head, looks right at him. “I’m trying to prove that I’m wife material.” She frowns at the way Kurogane laughs out loud, totally amused by the thought that Yuko feels like she needs to prove herself to be worthy of marriage. He didn’t think that she cared about that kind of thing.

“Work on your snoring first.” He blinks as it registers that she’s still frowning. “Are you being serious?”

“No,” she says, “but I’d like you to be a little nicer about it.” She turns back to the skillet now. She sets down the spatula, picks up the bowl and pours half of the beaten eggs onto the pan. There’s sizzling as the eggs hit the pan. “Did she come back?” Yuko asks, direct with him now.

“Yeah, she missed her baby.” Kurogane sets his chin on Yuko’s shoulder while she cooks. She picks up some of the vegetables and cheese, sprinkles them on the eggs, tiny pieces because Yuko doesn’t like big chunks of vegetables in her omelets.

Knowing this preference of hers is just another sign of the obvious. He knows inside of his heart that if Yuko lost her mind and began shouting at the sky, he’d stick around and deal with it. He would step up with minimal complaint, washing her clothes and helping her bathe, even buy her a doll if it gave her some meaning. He loves her and this is the kind of love he was raised to give. It took him forever to figure out those two things.

“It sucks for me that I love you so much.” Kurogane knows that there’s a better way to say it, but he can’t be bothered. Yuko wouldn’t trust him if he started trying to act slick with her. She likes him as is, and for all her jokes about his personality, she wouldn’t stick around if she didn’t like him.

“I thought I was going to have to wait forever,” she replies, focused on her task. It’s obvious to him that she wants to do a good job with breakfast. Maybe she doesn’t want to be a wife but every so often she wants to demonstrate that she’s capable of taking care of him too.

“Not this time.”

“All a girl wants is to be loved.”

To love someone is to be mad that the world won’t treat them with the care that you desperately want for them. If there is one thing that Kurogane is good at, it’s staying angry when it counts. “I can do that.”

“That’s enough for me.” Yuko bites her lower lip, slipping the spatula under the omelet. Moves slow, then fast, flipping the omelet. She turns her face to smile at him, and Kurogane returns it in kind.

Chapter Text

Pulling up on the pink dog collar around her neck, I watch her open and close her mouth, eyes squeezed shut. I’m unsure of myself—I know it feels good for me, but I’ve never considered how awful it is to watch. I keep moving my fingers inside of her, rubbing out those familiar circles with my thumb, biting my lip. Increasing the pressure under my thumb, stroking all those soft, familiar places, her vagina flutters around my fingers, and she makes a fist in the sheet. It’s taking everything for her to hold it together, and I want to see her fall apart.

  When she opens her eyes, I know it’s time. I release the collar, focusing on moving my fingers inside of her, turning her into a trembling wet mess. She makes a soft noise, arching her back, clenching to increase the tension inside of her, trying to capture the feeling.

  I’m ashamed to even acknowledge this, but I get why Ren did all these things to me. Yes, this is just what you do with a woman. When I see the tears on her face, I feel so ashamed that I roll her onto her stomach.

 “You need a new bookshelf.”

Lying on her bed, Yuko looks up from over the top of her iPad to see Kurogane leaning against her bedroom door, his arms crossed. She blinks at him, considering his statement, trying to process it really, since not even five seconds ago, she was reading an angsty Nana fan fiction where Nana O. and Hachi fall in love after all the bad things happen. It’s about love, mourning and new beginnings. While the smut is middling there’s an awful lot of it, which makes up for some of the more laughable typos. The story is two hundred and sixty-five hundred words long and complete too. Yuko has spent the better part of her afternoon reading it slowly, enjoying the tension and drama.

Which is all to say, she has no idea what Kurogane is talking about. “What?”

“You have too many piles of books and movies lying on the ground,” he says, walking into her room. “I don’t think you have too many things, but you need a better storage situation. And the cats will probably like having something new to climb on.” He walks over to the closet, unbuttoning his shirt. Yuko wonders if this is because she has never had a conventional nine to five, but she doesn’t understand how Kurogane can come home from a full day of work and still be looking for solutions. When she’s done working, she doesn’t want to think about anything.

“I didn’t think you cared about my things.”

“I care about not snapping my ankle by tripping over your things,” he replies, untucking his button down from his trousers, shrugging it off. The muscles in his arms and shoulders make stupid feelings rise from all over her body, especially her vagina. “What’re you doing?”

“Reading porn on the internet.”

“Happy for you.” He doesn’t even bat an eye, used to Yuko’s insanity by now. Would probably say that looking at porn on the internet isn’t all that crazy either. It’s practically what the internet is for!

“It’s fan fiction,” Yuko says, not really knowing why she’s telling him but doing it anyway. “It’s about Nana O. and Hachi.”

“From?”

“Nana!” Yuko forced him to watch the anime with her, although she recently reread the manga and showed him select panels. Kurogane denies liking it and insists that every one of his opinions about the franchise is against his will, but his hatred for the stupid and desire to see Takumi dead betrays a stronger emotional investment than he’ll readily admit to. When he said that Nana O. and Hachi should dump all these lame men and get together, Yuko knew that if she has babies, Kurogane will have to be their father. When she told him, Kurogane told her that she should have higher standards than a man who notices the obvious. It’s not my fault that your gender is so stupid. He sighed and admitted that she had him there.

“Oh.” He hangs up his button down, starts to take off his pants. He’s clearly making space for Yuko to tell him all about the story she’s reading. Probably doesn’t have the mental capacity to do much else but listen.

“It’s a good story,” she says, “but I don’t like the smut.” Even though she still enjoys reading it, but he doesn’t have to know that part.

“Really?” he asks, wheezing, amused by Yuko having standards for something she gets for free. He has a point, but Yuko feels entitled to share her critique with someone who doesn’t care and won’t tell the author.

“It’s not sensual enough,” she says, “it’s all about how the men have done them wrong. I think Nana O. and Hachi would romance each other. They should be drinking each other’s bathwater!” Kurogane actually starts laughing, and Yuko sits up, annoyed. Throws a pillow at him, hits the back of his head. He grunts, turns around, indignant.

“What the fuck was that for?” he asks, clearly annoyed. Yuko sits up, placing her iPad beside her on the bed.

“Because you were making fun of me!”

“Drinking bathwater is disgusting,” he says, “even if it’s the bathwater of someone you’re lusting after.”

“You don’t really lust for someone if there is a part of them that you refuse to put in your mouth.” Yuko means absolutely means it too. There is no part of Kurogane’s body that she would be above kissing. “I’m a little offended that you don’t want me that bad.”

“Because I don’t.” He finishes taking off his pants, hangs them up as well. Turns towards the bed, has the audacity to climb on nearly butt naked, the hairs around his bellybutton making Yuko irrationally upset. It’s not fair! How can every part of you be so nice to look at it?

Even worse, he moves her iPad to the bedside table, and she knows that he’s about to get to the business of seducing her. The way he stretches towards her makes her stomach flutter. “You do other gross things with me,” she says in a tart voice, “I don’t see why you’d stop there.”

“Just settle for other gross things,” he replies, smiling at her now, predatory, ready for the good part. Yuko is already half naked too, sitting in one of his plain black t-shirts and her lacy purple thong, both of them partial to cheap clothing in their casual wear.

“Well, can I peg you?” she asks, knowing his answer from a previous conversation—she can’t remember when, but she knows that he has already said yes.

“Only if I get your ass too.” Kurogane gets distracted with the hem of the t-shirt she’s wearing. Frowning because it’s his and she is always stealing his clothes, but also upset that she’s wearing clothes period.  

“And you’ll suck my dick?” she pulls the shirt over her head, throwing it over his shoulder. Feels good at the way he’s staring at her breasts, his eyes flicking back up to her face too, checking that this is all okay. She sees him reach past his underwear, them both knowing that she likes to watch him stroke himself.

“With pleasure.” Said without thinking, the flat voice of a man who isn’t really paying attention to the conversation because there is something much more important to attend to. “I thought we’d already established that this was all on the table.”

“Just checking!” Yuko pulls off her panties, pretending to nearly kick Kurogane in the face, but then he catches her left ankle in his free hand, and she stops smiling, unable to joke about what’s happening between them.

They are frozen for a moment, caught off guard by the absurdity of Kurogane holding Yuko’s leg up in the air while his other hand is around his erection. Completely open to him, she doesn’t find it very funny at all. He stares at her, before asking a question that makes her laugh. “What kind of porn were you reading?”

“It had choking,” she replies, smiling at the way Kurogane groans and drops her ankle. He’s not into the kind of petty violence common to a lot of mainstream pornography. For someone who likes playing contact sports and is more than happy to end fights, he doesn’t like violence all that much.

“Freak.” He sighs, like there’s nothing else for him to do, taking his underwear off now because he wants to be naked as well. The sight of his naked erection makes Yuko feel lightheaded, she’s still that excited to be with him.

“Could be fun if we tried it,” she says, lying down, sliding towards his hips, eager for the inevitable. Please, make me yours. Life has a lot more meaning when they’re loving each other.

“Too bad I prefer you breathing.” He places his hand over her head, leans down to kiss her. Yuko’s legs fall open, she sighs through his kisses. When his hand cups her breast, that familiar honeyed feeling washes over her, and she reaches for his penis, stroking him, clueing him in to what she’s feeling.

A soft sigh escapes her mouth when she feels the head of his penis against her labia. She watches Kurogane reach down ease himself into her, giddy infatuation making her blush from excitement. He’s careful about opening her up today, taking his time to penetrate her. He pauses, looks right at her face. “I’m taking you to Ikea tomorrow, so cancel any plans you have.” Kurogane says this like it’s not the most ridiculous time to bring this up.

“I’m not buying a shelf.” Yuko doesn’t know how she is able to carry on a conversation right now. He frowns, pauses inside of her.

“Then I’ll buy it.”

“Why?”

“Peace of mind.” He does this a lot now, buying things for her place – toilet paper because there’s a deal, cat litter because she was running low, hay for the rabbits because he saw it while he was out, which was definitely a lie.

Why am I even thinking about this? Yuko doesn’t mind the everyday and is happy to have a relationship built on something strong, but it’s not what she wants to be thinking about. She moves her hips, wrapping her legs around him. “Focus, please.” Kurogane snorts, rolls his eyes.

“I’m trying to be helpful to you.”

“I’m trying to have sex with you.” Exasperated now, Yuko wonders if Kurogane enjoys being this way. There is no other explanation.

She watches his face soften as he remembers that they’re trying to have a moment. He moves his hips in the way that she likes, and she lays her head back, finally relaxing. He leans down, his mouth hovering over her cheek. His breath lands on her face, making her smile. His moans are soft and quiet as he moves through her body.

Yes, yes, yes! Yuko smiles, turning her face into her shoulder, so happy because this feels so good and she knows that it feels the same for him. Opens her mouth, the softest sound, wrapping her legs around him, encouraging him to come closer. Looks up at him from the corner of her eye, sees the concentration on his face, all the focus. Turns her head to face him again, in time for him to rest his forehead on hers. He reaches a hand back, places it against the back of her thigh, sending sparks through all her nerves.

All hot and melted inside, Yuko places a hand on his shoulder, their bodies knotted together, locked into love, realizes that she’s coming right at the moment she decides that they need to stay here forever.

**

For Kurogane, it was a long time coming. He had been tripping over the same pile of books, and he always felt like Yuko’s living room needed more storage space. So many things are precariously placed, and the cats loves to climb over everything. Last night, he came home and nearly slipped on a stack of old DVDs strewn across the room, most likely from the cats racing around. Not taking kindly to a near death experience after a long day at work, he had walked into Yuko’s room, ready to argue his point to her. He hadn’t expected her to some around to easily to him changing her space. For this reason, he readily agreed to pay for this new shelf.

Standing next to Yuko in the Ikea showroom, Kurogane watches her compare the specs for a tall black shelf with the space they measured out in the living room. He’s bored out of his mind, trying to ignore the bovine-like crawl of the crowd on the path, children chattering, climbing on the furniture while their parents (handlers, really) are inspecting products or discussing their options with each other.

“You’re scowling.” Kurogane turns back to Yuko, who is looking up at him. “You’ll give the children here nightmares.”

“They’re the monsters, not me.” Kurogane sticks his hands in his pockets, unhappy that she’s taking so long. There’re some decisions that can’t be rushed, but he thinks it’s ridiculous to take fifteen minutes to choose a shelf. Being decisive makes him impatient with others, a trait that he is trying to work on, but some days are harder.

“They’re acting their age,” Yuko replies, turning back to the shelf. “Lighten up.”

“Lighten up?” he scoffs, “we’re trapped in hell.” He isn’t being sarcastic either. This here must be the kind of place a person is sent to after death as a punishment for misdeeds.

“You’re the one who wanted to come here.”

“For you.” Kurogane hates it, but there’s a whole lot he’ll do for her. She looks at the shelf, tilts her head, considering it. Takes a step back, as if to evaluate it.

“I thought it was to your benefit.” She taps her cheek with her finger, making a decision. If he weren’t irritated with her, he’d be relieved.

“You could slip and break your leg too.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” she replies, “thinking of my limbs too.”

“Don’t condescend to me!”

“I’m not,” she replies, taking a picture of the label of the shelf, presumably to find it in the warehouse, the pit at the end of this horrible journey. She then looks up at Kurogane, who is still mad, stewing in his anger because he knows that he’s just being irritable, that she’s not trying to make his life worse, that she always baits him and that he needs to leave it.

He tilts his head back, closes his eyes, and tells himself not to be dramatic. To find inner peace and be the person he wants to be in the face of minor inconveniences.

“You should move in with me,” she says. This gets Kurogane’s attention right away. He looks at her, eyes wide open, caught out by the question.

“This is when you’re going to ask me?” he asks. Kurogane isn’t a romantic, but he’d like a better moment. It definitely should be when they’re getting along.

“No time like the present,” Yuko says, tucking her phone back into her pocket, satisfied that she has all the information that she needs to find the shelf in the warehouse. Kurogane continues to stare at her dumbly, not believing that this is the moment that she pays him with.

“You’re serious.” He can’t think of anything else to say. Yuko blinks at him, apparently amused by his reaction.

“Are you going to say no?” she asks, teasing voice, crossing her arms. As if there is a single living soul who would say no to waking up to me every morning? He hears it in her voice too, sees her eyebrow raise as if daring him to prove her wrong.

“I could!” Kurogane crosses his arms, adds a hefty humph! Yuko scoffs, rolls her eyes, matches his antics with her own.

“We both know you’re going to have to come back anyway,” she replies, “you might as well stay.”

“I’ll have to think about it.” He absolute in his statement, refusing to budge either way. Kurogane isn’t prepared to give it up, let her win, because even now it still feels like there’re winners and losers. On the same team but with different personal stakes, even after all this time.

**

It’s not entirely clear to Kurogane why he is so nervous about the prospect of moving in with Yuko. He pretty much lives with her already, his apartment a stopping point, more than anything else. He doesn’t think it has anything to do with his parents or Fai, who didn’t leave him fearing rejection or abandonment. He’s never really been afraid of being alone either. In fact, Kurogane would say that fear isn't an emotion that he is overly acquainted with.

They finally found her stupid shelf, that he stupidly volunteered to buy, and now they’re in the cafeteria, the long box carefully leaning against the wall beside him. They’re sitting across of each other, Yuko eating a hotdog and staring at him while he picks at the meatballs that she made him buy even though he’s not hungry. Accused her of lining up her second lunch and she gave him a blank stare, the only indication that she has taken his reluctance personally.

“You’re being testy today,” she says, after swallowing the food in her mouth. There’s ketchup and mustard smeared about the corner of her mouth, and Kurogane picks up a napkin. Licks it before wiping her face without warning, finding it cute how she scrunches her nose and acts like she hates it.

“Cos I know that I’m building the shelf all by myself.” He wipes her face with the dry part of the napkin now, before dropping it on the tray their plates are on.

“We could call people for help.” She doesn’t take another bite of her hotdog, setting it back down on her plate.

“Kimihiro and Syaoran have teenager things to do.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know, I’m not a teenager.” Kurogane doesn’t really keep up on what they do outside of the times that they’re working in the store. It’s not disinterest so much as he doesn’t believe that it’s his place to keep tabs.

“Do you think Fai would come back from his vacation and help?”

“Nope, he wouldn’t and nor should he. Chi is taking him to a resort for vacation, and they’re living it up. You know that.” Sending Kurogane and Yuko texts daily, so many selfies too. The resort is beautiful, surrounded by green trees, blue skies above, every bit of the landscape reaching towards the clouds.

“There’s Fuma.” Yuko picks up a napkin, wipes her fingers with it, bunches it into a ball and throws it back down onto the tray.

“I don’t like Fuma.” Kurogane’s distrust has lessened over the years, but he doesn’t want to spend more than he has to with Fuma.

“Better than Seishirou.”

“Anyone would be.” Kurogane adds, “there are serial killers and pit vipers nicer than Seishirou.” And he means it. Seishirou is the kind of person that makes Kurogane feel like there are creepy-crawlies all over his skin.

“This is why people call you an asshole.” Yuko crosses her arms, leans back in her chair. Looks testy herself, how she accused him of being.

“You don’t invite him to parties either.” Yuko scoffs in response, because he’s right, she doesn’t like Seishirou either. She looks right at Kurogane, and if he were in a better mood, he would revel in being under her skin, but alas, he’s in a bad mood too.

“I can’t invite him because you might punch him again.” They had been in their baby twenties. Yuko was throwing a big party, at Clow’s place now that Kurogane thinks about it. He and Seishirou exchanged words, over what, he can’t recall, but he does remember him and Seishirou tumbling down the stairs, still trying to throw punches. Yuko herself got between them, screaming, and throwing her drink between the two of them, the glass shattering. She called Kurogane a first-rate bastard while Sôma was cleaning him up in the bathroom after, Fai trying to keep Yuko at bay, none of them having seen her that mad before. Seishirou apologized and excused himself from the party.

“He started it!” Kurogane is certain of this one fact. Yuko gives him a flat stare before standing up, picking up her nice leather purse, even though she didn’t spend any of her own money today.

“You say that about every fight you have ever been in.” Yuko picks up their tray without looking at him. Cold and dismissive now, thrown off by him. Kurogane taps the table with his fingers, before pushing his seat back, the chair making an awful noise as it scrapes against the floor. Stands up, reaches over for the box. Gives Yuko a flat look, and she blinks back. “You have nothing to say to me?”

“Not at the moment,” he replies, passive aggressive. Yuko pretends to smile, obviously faking it, before walking over to the garbage bins with the remains of their lunch.

**

You’re such a man.

 Yuko said this after they left Ikea and Kurogane made it clear that he was going to do all the heavy lifting. She scolded him in the parking lot while he was struggling with the rental van, trying to fold the seats down in the back. So much more expensive than just getting it shipped to the apartment, but Kurogane wanted to get it that day and Yuko needed to see it in person. He refused to let her help, leaving her to stand there and watch him. Normally, she’d be into him being a strong man, but today, he has pissed her off, so she gave him a piece of her mind.

He had said nothing to that, just pausing to take in her words before returning to his struggle with the seats. Kurogane said nothing to the pop music that Yuko made him listen to on the way home. Just kept his eyes on the road and grunted when he asked him if he liked a song. It hurt her feelings more than she’d like to admit, even though she could tell that he was trying to keep himself from saying something he couldn’t take back and that she should be proud for him demonstrating restraint and showing discernment.

They bickered while Kurogane looked for parking by her building, and he told her to just stay put while he left to return the rental. Shizuka and Kimihiro hauled the shelf to her store, taking it up the stairs for her. She was so upset with Kurogane that she actually moved things around herself, making space for him, spooking her pets since she usually can’t be bothered to vacuum.

Perched on the arm of the couch, she watches Kurogane arrange all the pieces according to the instructions. She’s waiting to see how he plans to break the silence. Rolls her eyes when he opens his fat mouth and complains, because of course.

“Are you going to help me, or do I have to do everything myself?” he asks, not looking at her. Focused on lining everything up.

“You don’t think I’d be useless?”

“You’re a smart girl, you can at least read out the instructions. You could boss me around too, which I would think to be a bonus for you.” Kurogane focuses on ensuring that all the pieces are where he needs them to be, all the little pieces lined up nicely the way that he likes. It feels like he’s trying to avoid something.

Not one to play around when there’s something she wants, Yuko decides to speak up. “Why are you so hostile to living here?” She stands up, crosses her arms. Kurogane looks at her, evidently surprised by her tone.

“I’m not hostile.” Kurogane says this with complete sincerity, and it makes Yuko want to slap him.

“Then why have you been so quiet?” Yuko feels angry because it’s easier than the sadness. I thought you wanted me too. She doesn’t believe that she could be so stupid, knows that she isn’t, and that Kurogane loves her, but finds it hard to not take this all very personally.

“Because you’re annoying.” Kurogane says it easily, meaning that it’s not the truth.

“What are you going to do about it?” she asks, walking up to him. Kurogane puts his hand out, cups the back of her knee. Softens her up, makes her want to take it back.

“What does that mean?” he asks, speaking in a low voice, a contrite expression on his face, knowing exactly where this is coming from but not wanting to say it.

“I guess it means that you can just leave, if that’s what you want.” Yuko steps back, pulling away. Looks him right in the eye as she says it.

She turns around and quietly pads across the apartment to her bedroom. Pulls back the covers and slides into bed, pulls the blankets back up to her chin before she goes to sleep. Leaves her clothes on, figures that she’ll try and sleep off her bad mood and hurt feelings. Find Kurogane after and see if he still wants her after all.

When she can’t fall asleep, she decides to watch a movie, a bad one too. Keeps the volume low so that Kurogane can’t hear the television.

**

They’re having a version of a fight that they’ve had before. Does Kurogane want to stay or go, how bad does Yuko want him around, why are they even together? They haven’t been so existential about their relationship in a long time, so they were probably overdue for this fight. Fai always said that Kurogane refuses to do something until he decides that he has to, and Yuko herself is quite stubborn (drives a hard bargain according to a repeat client). A couple can’t be on the same page about everything, and it’s just bad luck that in choosing each other, Kurogane and Yuko both signed up to deal with assholes just as stubborn as themselves.

Yet, instead of walking out, Kurogane puts together the shelf. Sets it up against the wall where Yuko wanted, inserting pieces of cardboard in the front to get out of having to anchor the shelf to the wall without help. When he’s finished, he gets up, goes to her room. Finds her watching a historical fantasy movie, one that involves monsters. They’ve watched it together before—it’s one of her favorites.

“Can I come in?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe. Yuko flicks her eyes over to him, shrugs.

“Can you?”

“Don’t be like that,” he sighs, no fight in him. He walks over to the bed, climbs onto it to join her. He sidles right up to her, places his face in her armpit, contrite enough that she gives him a strange look. “I built your dumb shelf with my bare hands.”

“You’ve always been a man that way,” she replies, sounding less forgiving than she is. Opens her arm, lets Kurogane rest his head on her chest. Places her hand on his head, scratches his scalp with her nails. All gentle now, her fight gone too, pride with its tail between its legs since she doesn’t like fighting with him either, even when she thinks that she’s right.

When he places his hand on her cheek, she turns to look down at him. He strokes her cheek with his thumb, searching her face for any vestige of anger. Perceiving none, he moves to plant kisses on her chin, then her nose, landing on her mouth. Soft and gentle, moving to lean over her, cupping the back of her neck. She reciprocates, her own careful kisses in kind, feeling him out too.

“You’re going to have sex with me to get out of trouble?” she asks between their soft kisses. Pushes the covers away, revealing her body to him. Kurogane pushes her top up, takes it off and then her bra. Kisses her breasts, not answering her, stopping only to take off his t-shirt. “Kurogane?”

“Having sex with you was the start of my troubles.” It’s the kind of joke that is also the truth, getting a throaty laugh from her. She unbuttons her jeans, and he peels them off, with her panties too. He finishes undressing, lets her roll him onto his back. In the movie, there are monsters fighting each other while the humans take cover, the CGI so convincing that it would be chilling to look at if Yuko were going to give him more than a minute to concentrate. When she takes the head of his penis into her mouth, he closes his eyes, sighs, relaxing.

“Stop,” he says, opening his eyes. “Come here.” Holds his arms out to her, and she stops blowing him. Crawls over him, lifts her hips, the tip grazing her labia before she reaches between her legs, guides his penis into her body. She’s looking at him with tenderness, their hips rolling together. He places a hand on her hip and another on her right breast, squeezing a little. She places her hands over his, holding him close, pressing him to her body.

A tilt of her head, a low moan out of her mouth. She leans forward, cupping his face in her hands before kissing him, her hips moving in slow circles, returning his desire and romance. She laughs into his mouth when he places his hands on her ass, squeezing, moving her forward.

“You’re going to have to touch yourself,” he murmurs, wanting to get their bodies closer. She gives him a sweet smile, obeying without a word, sliding her hand between their bodies.

Enjoying his time inside of her is always a given. She kisses his face when they come at the same time, making a mess together, Kurogane pressing himself all the way against her to keep it all inside of Yuko’s body. She lies on top of him, and he finds that she’s ready to part from him first. His answer to her question is right there in the sad feeling when he’s no longer inside of her body.

“Yuko?” he asks, his arm now around her shoulders as they watch the movie, her head on his chest while he traces an infinity knot behind her ear. 

“Yes?” she replies, her voice small.

“Are we still fighting?” Kurogane doesn’t think they are, but he wants to check. Yuko stretches her arm across his stomach, settles closer to him.

“No,” she says, “we’re no longer fighting.”

The monster shoots a blue fireball from his mouth, destroys the quarter of a major city. The actor looks ridiculous, not even scared, just flummoxed. Kurogane smiles when Yuko laughs out loud at the absurdity of the scene, glad that things are normal again.

**

Eventually, they manage to get out of bed. Yuko is organizing her new shelf, leaving the two bottom shelves conspicuously empty, which isn’t the best way to stack a shelf. Kurogane is sitting on the couch, trying to choose another movie for them to watch, since apparently, she doesn’t want him to help her organize her things. She ordered takeout, which he’s going to have to go pick up soon.

“Your dumb manga can go on the bottom shelves,” Yuko says, answering the question that he hadn’t yet asked. He tilts his head, feeling indifferent about it because he somehow already knew it would play out this way.

“You still want me to live here?” he asks, sinking into the couch. He crosses his arms too, fronting at being difficult.

“Unfortunately for me, yes.” Yuko looks at him with a smile on her face. She picks up a volume of one of her shoujo manga, the really pretty ones that put him off, and tosses it at him. He catches it, no effort at all, the game always easy between them.

Chapter Text

The belly chain glinting around Yuko’s perfect stomach makes Kurogane deeply uncomfortable. He feels personally taunted by its gleam, like it can read his mind and knows all the things he wants to do with Yuko.

Yuko made it herself, from a few chain necklaces clipped together. She trotted out to the living room to show him, in just her undies, proud of herself for being so resourceful. She let Kurogane bend her over their table, the first properly joint purchase between them. The chain scratched against the wood at some points when Yuko wasn’t lifting her hips up for him. Kurogane stood up straight, admiring her ass and the dimples at the base of her spine. Yuko completely naked, save for her improvised belly chain. He feels like it’s a witness to his lust, able to testify to the nature of his baser desires.

“You should dress more appropriately, you’re over thirty.” Kurogane walks up to her, hooks his fingers into the chain. Tugs a little, staring down between them. Her low-rise jeans and crop top make up one of her more professional outfits. Yuko catches his wrist in both hands, laughing.

“I never thought you would tell me how to dress.” Yuko leans into his space, looking up at him, all a tease. “Just tell me that you like it.”

“No.” Kurogane feels the lines in his forehead form as his irritation increases, annoyed that he’s such a simple man.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Yuko speaks in a quiet voice, looking at his mouth, then into his eyes. Kurogane tightens his fingers around the chain, pulling her towards him.

“I’ve got to go to work.”

“You’re only paying half the utilities,” she says, “I cover the property tax.”

“I like my job.”

“I’m just saying that you don’t need it.”

“Look, you can’t say these kinds of things to me.”

“Cos one day you’ll finally listen?” Yuko puts her arms around his neck, presses into his body. Kurogane opens his mouth, ready to fire back at her, but the toilet flushes and they leap apart, having forgotten that Kimihiro had spent last night in the spare bedroom. They sneak around him, trying to keep him innocent to the embarrassing nature of their relationship. Kimihiro knows that they’re committed but he doesn’t know that they’re in deep love, the kind where they’ll both make googly talk and tell jokes in-between kisses. It would ruin their respective images.

They look at each other, their silent exchange ending in them agreeing that it’s time to be the adults and make Kimihiro think that they are completely chaste. Kimihiro is humming to himself, in a good mood, walking past them to get his bento. “How’re you two this morning?”

“Fine,” Kurogane replies, keeping his answer short. Yuko gives him a knowing look, one that indicates that she’s about to tease him further, Kurogane not into it for a single moment.

“Just getting ready for work,” she says, “I needed to check with Kurogane about my outfit.” She turns to Kimihiro, who frowns at her.

“You’re self-employed,” he replies, “and wear swimsuits around the house when it gets too hot.”

“Kurogane is a hard-working man, and I needed his professional opinion!” Yuko says it in an upbeat voice, like she wasn’t just about to be very inappropriate with Kurogane.

“Gross,” Kimihiro makes a face, seventeen and apparently savvier than Kurogane estimated him to be. Kurogane glares at Yuko when she giggles, wanting to maintain some propriety.

“What do you know about being gross?” Yuko asks, hands on her hips now. Merciless teasing, Kimihiro making it easy.

“Enough,” Kimihiro grumbles, picking up his bento. “I’m out late tonight. I’m going to see that new movie, the fantasy one.”

“With Shizuka?” Yuko says it in a teasing voice, leaning against the kitchen counter. Kurogane watches Kimihiro make an angry face, like he’s an ugly baby, distracted now by Yuko’s question.

“Himawari was busy, and he happened to be there when I asked.”

“If you say so,” Yuko hums, getting a grumble from Kimihiro as he walks towards the door to the apartment. “Should we leave the door unlocked?”

“No,” Kimihiro replies, “I’m going back to my apartment tonight.” Kurogane watches a frown cross over Yuko’s face, before she’s smiling again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for your shift then!” She waves to Kimihiro, who huffs before leaving. His absence changes the atmosphere of the apartment. Yuko isn’t in quite such a good mood anymore, and the pets all hunker down, deflated without Kimihiro. Yuko would never call him her son, but Kurogane understands that she has bonded to Kimihiro like he came out of her body.

“If you want him to stay, you’re going to have to tell him.” Speaking as someone who recently moved in, Kurogane didn’t know that Yuko liked him like that until she used her words. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, looks over her shoulder, no emotion on her face because she’s playing tough with him.

“He knows he can stay here,” Yuko replies, “he’s seventeen.” Kurogane is surprised by the argument, because he doesn’t think that it makes much of a difference. Seventeen is still a kid, and a kid is still a baby as far as Kurogane is concerned.

“He doesn’t have parents.” Kurogane scowls when Yuko tilts her head and gives him a look, not giving him a chance to finish his thought. “He’s probably lonely.”

“That’s why I encourage him to make friends.” Yuko waves her hand, trying to get him off her back, sensitive to when Kurogane’s observations are a little too sharp.

“You tease him about Shizuka all the time. Tell him that Himawari is a lost cause too.” Kurogane finds himself following her as she walks to the coffee table. She bends down to pick up a magazine she bought three months ago and still hasn’t read. Kurogane flipped through it, bored one day, and felt like he lost braincells when he read the sex tips. He can’t complain to Yuko because he still read them all.

“A lost cause romantically speaking.” Yuko turns around, appears upset by how close he is, not prepared for him to be right there. She swats his chest with the magazine, lets him catch her wrist. She frowns at him, and he’s surprised that she let him get under her skin so easily. He wasn’t even really trying to be annoying. “Go do whatever it is you do to make money and pay the bills.”

“I thought that you don’t want me to pay any bills.” He doesn’t resist when she pulls away, giving him the stink eye, unamused to have her soft parts pointed out to her by him.

“But I do want you to leave.” Yuko walks over to the window, sulking now, putting space between their bodies. Kurogane presses his mouth into a line, over it already, but still irritated with her for doing this so early.

“Fine,” he says, shrugging, walking over to the hook where his coat is hanging. He picks it up, pulling his arms through the sleeves. He doesn’t have time for this shit. Yuko isn’t his wife, Kimihiro isn’t his kid, and while this is his house, that’s not enough reason for him to stay behind and worry about making nice before he walks out the door. If he gets hit by a bus, dies, and this is the last conversation they ever have before he leaves this mortal plane, oh well. Their first conversation probably sucked too (he can’t remember it for he has known her for that long) so it fits with their relationship.

“Fine?” Yuko crosses her arms, tilting her head, as if surprised that this is the outcome. Kurogane usually likes to stick around and protest a little, but he’s a grown man with things to do, and people to see.

“Yes, fine.” Kurogane finishes doing up his coat, then puts on his boots. He thinks about all the things he has to do today, already working on his mental checklist—What do I have to do to get to where I want to be next week?

“Okay,” Yuko shrugs, setting her hands on her hips. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” he says, at the door already, not looking at her because he has resolved to be angry in this moment to prevent their not-fight from turning into an actual fight.

After he makes it down the street, he realized that he forgot his lunch, but doesn’t have the mettle to go back so soon. He does stop and look over his shoulder, sees Yuko watching him through the window. He thinks about making a face at her, or giving her the finger, but instead, he just looks back. Turns away first too.

**

Whenever the tender parts of her are exposed, Yuko instinctively retreats into herself. She has become a lot better about it now that Kurogane is around all the time, because he has a surprising amount of emotional intelligence. He meets her softness with his own, without judgement, and when he does play at being insensitive, it never lasts long. Always comes back sorry after.

It’s well past dinnertime when Kurogane comes home. He looks tired and overworked, the busy season upon him. Yuko left him yakisoba, now cold, on the new table, takeout from their favorite place, and pulls out a cold beer as he sets a shopping bag down. “Hey,” he says, taking off his coat next, hanging it up before dealing with his boots. Yuko, still put out by his comments about her loneliness, presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she pulls the tab of his beer. Earns herself a wheezy, “really?”

“Yes,” she replies, “really.” She sets the beer down beside his plate of food. A good girlfriend, watches Kurogane take the bag into the kitchen.

“I bought eggs,” he says, setting them down on the counter.

“Doesn’t change how you walked out on me.” An unfair interpretation of events for sure, but Yuko isn’t so ready to play nice.

“It’s not walking out if I come back with something you need.” Kurogane turns to look at her, tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head back. Side eye forever, and Yuko will take it.

“Isn’t that reasoning convenient for you.” Yuko sets her hands on her hips, waiting for him to respond. Kurogane rolls his eyes, mutters a fuck it, then walks right up to her and puts his hand on her cheek. Yuko frowns at him, earns a half-smile from him. “What?”

“It’s funny that I’m trying to get out of the doghouse with you of all people.” He strokes her cheek with his thumb, searches her eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Old me would have cut and run by now.”

“New-you is still an asshole.” Yuko hates herself for it, but Kurogane’s attention is making her soft. She likes when he touches her as if she’s fragile. Handle me with care, please.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “can’t help it at this point.” Kurogane leans in to kiss her, sealing the end of their disagreement. Yuko could still fight, but she doesn’t have the desire to.

They aim for the bedroom, but they only get to the couch. Kurogane put his hand up her shirt to feel her bare skin, and her hand was down his pants stroking his erection. She’s sure that their journey was graceless and comical to watch, Kurogane even laughing at the groan of the couch as it sagged under their weight. “We need a new couch.” He says this while Yuko unbuttons his shirt, having pushed her own up over her breasts.

“Next big purchase.” Yuko can’t think straight when they’re doing these kinds of things together. She aches all over and it takes everything to focus on their conversation. “I’m still mad that you made me watch you leave today.”

“And I’m still mad at you for blowing me off.” Kurogane sits up, grips the back of the couch for leverage, leaving Yuko half-naked and cold. She frowns at him because she thought they were making up. Why he can’t just let her love him, she will never know. Even worse, she knows that he feels the same way about her sometimes.

“You told me to ask Kimihiro to move in.” Yuko folds her hands over her breasts, not knowing what else to do with them.

“You obviously want him here.” He is right between her legs, and this is what Kurogane chooses to talk about.

“He could say no.” Kimihiro is one of the most independent people that Yuko has ever met. The boy can’t do much but will insist on dealing with everything himself. For this reason, Yuko wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want to move in. Having two adults around would get in the way of his alone time.

“Well, at least he knows that the offer is always there.” Kurogane looks down at her, puts his hand on her knee, comforting her.

“We can’t be horny on the couch if he’s living here.” Yuko is trying to steer things back to where they need to be. Touch me, touch me please!

“We’ve got a bed.” Kurogane smiles, comes back to her, not wanting to linger either. Reaches for the fly of her pants, pulls them off, tosses them aside. Yuko arches her back, ready for him now, if he’ll let her have him. He seems to sense this, leaning back over her, still has too many clothes on for her liking but they can make it work.

“We need to talk about it later,” she says, “we have better things to do right now.”

“I agree.” He kisses her on the neck, lets Yuko deal with his fly. A little sigh escapes his mouth when she strokes his penis, thumb on the underside, seeing where he’s at. Butterflies behind her bellybutton, wet for him already.

Planting kisses on her neck, Kurogane cups her shoulder, trousers pushed down to his thighs now. Yuko strokes him a bit, before she begins to touch herself, working herself up even more. Opening her body up with her fingers, getting ready for him. Their pleasure is mutual—she enjoys his orgasms almost as much she does hers, and vice versa.

Eventually, she can’t hold out on him anymore. He follows through when she guides him inside of her, returning him to her body. Wraps her legs around his body, trying to pull him closer. Feeling him inside of her brings her closer to her own humanity. He presses his teeth into her shoulder, and all she can do is sigh out loud.

After, Yuko sits up on the couch, legs folded under her, naked now, Kurogane taking off her shirt and bra when they switched up positions. Kurogane is zipping up his fly, shirt still open, left on because Yuko had to have him. She’s stroking a lock of her hair, watching him, fixated is the better word.

“Your food is cold, and the beer is getting warm.” She looks up at his face when she says it. Kurogane nods before responding.

“It’s okay,” he replies, looking down at the ground. “It’s okay.”

**

It amazes Yuko how quickly dust accumulates. Dead skin cells, dust mite droppings and body parts, probably microplastics too. She knows that she’s always shedding hair and skin but it’s different to be confronted by it when Kurogane empties the vacuum while complaining about how the pet hair will destroy it or Kimihiro waving the duster in her face while yelling about how he isn’t a personal maid. Yuko laughs them both off but is always privately stunned by the waste created by merely existing, detritus that appears to come from nowhere.

Sitting behind the counter of her shop, Yuko is reading a book that Kurogane brought with him when he moved in. Their literary sensibilities overlap in ways that she finds very amusing, reinforcing her attraction. When she feels too girlish in her private adoration for her man (her man!), she looks to Kimihiro for a distraction. He is letting the cats sit on his shoulders while he does his homework, having finished all his tasks for the day. Sitting at the counter opposite to Yuko, where all the gaudy watches and blingy engagement rings are kept.

“What’re you working on?” Yuko asks, already knowing that it’s an essay on the figure of the Holy Grail in Arthurian legend for an English class. It sounds a little evolved for a high school course, especially considering that it’s a second language for most of the students, but Kimihiro’s teacher is a former scholar who closely studied Middle English prose. The teacher simply can’t keep her enthusiasm for the language out of her teaching.

“Still the same essay,” Kimihiro says, frowning at his notebook. “It’s kind of a sad story.”

“None of them find the grail, right?” Yuko looked up the Wikipedia page after the first time Kimihiro told her about the book.

“Only one of them is fit to see it, because his soul is so pure. Everyone else has a soul stained by the earthly realm, so to speak.” Kimihiro switches into mythic language easily, from a steady diet of legends and fairy tales, ranging from ancient to the contemporary, reading old print books from the library with yellow pages and trawling through internet forums for urban legends about cryptids. He doesn’t like horror though. Mysteries don’t have to be scary, he once said, complaining about The Ring, which he watched sandwiched between Yuko and Shizuka, Megetsu curled at his feet. Fai was there too, seated on the armchair with the cats on his lap. Syaoran and Sakura seated at chairs pulled into the living room. Kurogane was on the floor, Megetsu and the Mokonas curled up with him. He grabbed Yuko’s foot when she nudged him with it one too many times. The memory of his hand around her ankle is more visceral than her memories of the movie, distracting her while Fai suggested Kimihiro pick up cozy mysteries. 

“The earthly realm, where all of us mortals are trapped with each other.” Yuko thinks about going upstairs and taking a nap but can’t because Kimihiro is trying to do his homework and she is supposed to be the adult.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Kimihiro says, “and I think that it’s really a story about human loneliness.”

“Most stories are.” Yuko doesn’t mean to come off snarky, and Kimihiro doesn’t take it that way. He appreciates her adult perspective on the world.

“Like, at the end of the day, each of the knights must live with their choices, and are lonelier for it, because they can’t actually realize their faith.” Kimihiro adds, “there’s something very sad about the entire situation.” His eyebrows furrow, concentrating on his writing, embracing the challenge of putting his thoughts into words.

“You know, you could move in with me if you want.” Yuko doesn’t pose it as a question, presenting it as an option because she doesn’t want to put him on the spot. Kimihiro blinks, looks up at her. The cats jump onto the counter, their weight off his shoulders.

“Kurogane won’t mind?” A totally fair question, but Yuko still laughs anyway. Kurogane is sharing a bed with a woman who makes him insane. If anything, Kimihiro would be a welcome dose of sanity.

“He suggested it,” she replies, “apparently he can’t manage my crazy on his own.”

“That’s not a surprise,” Kimihiro replies, “I wonder how he didn’t crack sooner.”

“Ouch.” Yuko isn’t really hurt, but she’s a little annoyed that Kimihiro so readily agrees with her. She’d appreciate him if he pushed back a little bit more. “How does it sound?” She hopes the offer didn’t put Kimihiro off. Yuko cares for him and does get worried about the fact that he lives alone. She doesn’t think that she’s a very good caretaker, but Kurogane is, so she’s in a place to give Kimihiro the option now.

He frowns while he thinks it over, tilting his head and looking at the ceiling. After a minute, he looks back at Yuko. He doesn’t look uncomfortable with the offer. “I’ll have to think about it. I like my landlady.”

“You wouldn’t pay rent here.” Yuko means it too.

“This is true.” It’s all he says before turning back to his homework, not giving her an answer, doubling down on thinking about it but still, Yuko’s heart feels much lighter.

**

That evening, Kurogane is home at a decent hour. He heads upstairs while Yuko still had another two hours in the shop, said that he’d be making dinner, invited Kimihiro too. Yuko loves to eat but hates cooking, so she considers herself lucky to have ended up with a man who makes homemade meals that actually taste good. She can tell that Kurogane’s parents loved him by the quality of the food that he makes for her. Someone had to teach him that eating correctly was so important.

“Can I help?” Yuko asks, tidying the table, showing initiative because Kimihiro promised to join them after running out for an errand. Doesn’t usually care but now wants to make a good impression on him.

“No,” Kurogane says, “you’d get in the way.” Objective fact because Yuko loves to hang off him at critical moments.

“What’d ya make?” She bounces over to the kitchen, smelling the curry but wanting a reason to be close to him. Maru and Moro are weaving around his ankles, meowing for scraps, preventing him from stepping away from Yuko as she leans in. “Curry?”

“And rice,” he says, “easy.”

“Yours always turns out better than mine.” Kurogane couldn’t even pretend to choke hers down, it was so bad. She’s not a terrible cook by any means but something about curry fails to connect with her.

“Maybe I just have a better attention span—what are you doing?” Kurogane gives her a proper scowl, Yuko having slid her hand up his shirt, massaging circles into his waist. He doesn’t usually react when Yuko touches him for fun but isn’t a fan of being distracted.

“You’re just so good-looking when you’re being a good husband.” She laughs at the way Kurogane sputters at the word. She doesn’t mind that he doesn’t see himself as a husband. Yuko can’t imagine herself as someone’s wife either.

“That’s not funny,” he says, “I’ve told you that I’m not getting married.”

“You being so reluctant and selective would make it an even greater honor to perform my wifely duties for you.” She squeezes his waist with her hand, smiling up at him because his angry face is just so cute. “I will convince you, don’t worry.”

“No,” he replies, “you will not.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a giant pain.” He doesn’t pull away when she gets into his space, ducking under his arm. The masculine smell of his bodywash lingers on his skin. She presses her face to him, crushes her nose against his shirt. Inhales, the scents of soap, detergent, and skin mixing. Kurogane grumbles to himself, unintelligible, trapped by Yuko and the cats.

“Well, I like that you take care of me.”

“I’m taking care of me,” he replies, “the stuff for you is all incidental.”

“The food smells good all the same.” Yuko watches him stir the curry, excited to eat. It’s been a long day for her too, and she likes their domestic routine. Sitting at the table, eating, talking about their day. Listen to some music or watch television, read a book on her iPad (or horny fan fiction, which Kurogane knows about and weirdly doesn’t judge). He sometimes plays solitaire or prepares his lunch for the next day, the cats and Mokonas harassing him, Megetsu on his dog bed, a quiet observer. Yuko wants to share this domesticity with Kimihiro (he will be forbidden from knowing what’s on her iPad, of course). “Kimihiro said that he’ll think about moving in.”

“Good.” Kurogane finally sets his hand on her lower back, slides his fingers up the back of her cropped camisole, just as handsy too but Yuko is always happy for him to touch her body. “Do you have any idea if he’s eating with us tonight?”

The door opens, and Yuko successfully disentangles herself from Kurogane before Kimihiro steps into the apartment, carrying a paper bag. He looks flustered, like he rushed back here, a very good kid. “Am I late?”

“Nope!” Yuko keeps her voice bright, goes to the fridge to pull out some drinks.

“I bought dessert,” Kimihiro says, “a castella cake.”

“Cake!” Yuko cheers, always excited for treats. Kurogane looks over his shoulder at her, unimpressed.

“You’re such a child.”

“It must be horrible to be so joyless that cake can’t even make you happy. Not to mention ungrateful!” Yuko smiles at the way Kurogane glares at her, his eye twitching he’s so annoyed. “Hey, I could’ve have made an even more tasteless joke—"

Before Kurogane can tell Yuko that he’s going to throw their dinner off the balcony, and for Yuko to goad him into doing it, Kimihiro steps in, squawking: “you’re both so weird!”  He walks into the kitchen, sets the paper bag onto the counter. “Are we going to have dinner?” he asks, looking between the two of them. Kurogane sighs, turns back to the stove.

“Yuko, you know where the bowls are.”

“So, you’re bossing me around now?” Yuko mock sighs, pretending to be difficult while Kimihiro groans, their arguing creating more distance between him and dinner.

“I am the one who cooked dinner!” Kurogane turns around, ready to glare at her again, but she’s pulling out three bowls, doing what he asks. They eye each other, and Kurogane gets flustered when she offers him a small smile. A genuine one that doesn’t come at his expense. Even after all this time, he can still be so bashful.

When Kurogane turns away, she gazes at his back for a moment. A scoff gets her attention, and it’s Kimihiro, repeating what he said before. “You two are so weird.”

Chapter Text

Living with a teenager comes with one very real drawback: their hormones are insane.

While Kurogane has known Kimihiro for some time, and was passively aware of his crush on Himawari, he didn’t know quite how bad it is. After Kimihiro moved in, and he started talking about her all the time. He makes lunches and snacks for her, has memorized her schedule, and knows her favorite movie, book, and band. Everything that Himawari gives Kimihiro goes into a special wooden box that he keeps under his bed and would save in the event of a fire. If she calls and Yuko or Kurogane see her name on the screen of Kimihiro’s phone and tell him who it is, Kimihiro will come running, one time jumping right out of the tub to answer. Kurogane now understands why Yuko teases Kimihiro so much. She’s probably hoping that he’ll take a hint and stop talking about it.

“Do you think Himawari likes chocolate?” Kimihiro stands in the door of the kitchen, holding a mixing bowl and whisk, already halfway through making a chocolate cake, Shizuka and Himawari both coming over to watch a movie. Kurogane is sitting in the armchair, while Yuko and Fai are on the couch. They’ve made a reservation to go on a date to a new French restaurant. Kurogane is going to stay at home and catch up on his manga in peace, Yuko not around to distract him. He’s also the unofficial chaperone, even though Kimihiro has no game and Shizuka’s presence kills the mood. Still, Kurogane gets peace and free cake from the deal so he’s not going to complain.

“You’re the expert,” Fai replies, good natured. His beer is on the table, the shitty brand that he always brings over. Kurogane sits back in the armchair, makes eye contact with Yuko before she looks over at Kimihiro.

“Himawari always likes the things you make her.” Yuko is being nice, trying out being supportive even though she says that it’s obvious that Himawari doesn’t feel the same intensity for Kimihiro. He’s just her sweet friend. Not a mean observation at all, just accurate. Shizuka is the one who always shows up for Kimihiro.

“But I want it to be perfect!” Kimihiro whines, going back to whisking the batter. He heads back into the kitchen, muttering to himself, probably about how no one understands his troubles. A big part of being a teenager is being hung up on being normal but one’s hormones always seem to work against that goal. Kimihiro cares about how he is perceived unless it comes to Himawari. He doesn’t mind people knowing that he’s crazy in love. Even brags about it too, something that Kurogane finds privately embarrassing.

“So, she’s really coming over tonight?” Fai asks in a low voice, looking over at Yuko and Kurogane, clearly not wanting Kimihiro to overhear him.

“Shizuka will be there too, and Kurogane is here to chaperone.” Yuko looks at her nails, ready to go to dinner but not wanting to rush Fai through his drink. Kurogane can tell because she has checked the time on her phone six times in the last four minutes. Kurograne presses his lips together, embarrassed that he notices these little things because he’s so attracted to her. Real love, right here, again because once wasn’t enough, apparently.

“No rules with them?” Fai looks thoughtful, like he’s considering what it means to be responsible for people growing into themselves.

“Himawari never comes over alone.” Yuko snorts at the idea of Kimihiro having any game. He’s a terminal nerd to her. Not a loser, but she and Kurogane both know that they have nothing to worry about. Yuko said that Kimihiro will never touch Himawari because he subconsciously knows that realizing his attraction would simultaneously kill it.

“And if she ever did?”

“Bedroom door open and nothing below the waist.” Kurogane adds, “that was my parents’ rule with me.” It didn’t really work, because they weren’t around all the time and he and Sôma knew how to sneak around, but it was clear that he was expected to behave himself, even if he wasn’t very good at it all the time.

Having known Kurogane for as long as they have, both Fai and Yuko react with amusement, Fai wheezing while Yuko covers her mouth. “They thought you could pull?” Fai giggles, Kurogane a complete dork to him. They both know about Sôma but it’s funny to tell Kurogane that she was momentarily confused as a teenager.

“Well, I did.” Kurogane shrugs, not upset about it because it happened. He cares about Sôma a whole lot, still, and she was part of so many of his significant firsts that the jokes don’t bother him, because it was all so real. “It’s not so hard at fifteen to believe in yourself.”

“I wasn’t kissing until college.” Yuko leans back against the couch, stretches out her legs to rest her feet on Kurogane’s lap. Boys always noticed her, but she wasn’t interested in romance until she met Clow and felt chosen when he came onto her. Feeling special is still very important to her too.

“Me neither,” Fai says, “I choose to see it as being discerning.”

“Losers.” Kurogane wraps a hand around one of Yuko’s feet, squeezing, pressing his thumb right into the delicate arch.

“Well, you’ve kissed both of us, so what does that mean?”

“That times are tough.” He frowns, thinking a little bit more about who he’s dealing with, a tricky bastard and absolute witch. “And you were both different, so don’t start with me either!” He squeezes Yuko’s foot tight when she wheezes, watches her shift positions to lie back, her head on Fai’s lap. The world is always giving Kurogane the short end of the stick, how Fai seems to always get Yuko on her best behavior he will never know.

The smoke alarm goes off in the kitchen, the oven preheating sometimes enough to push it over the edge. Kurogane sighs, pushes Yuko’s feet from his lap, goes to deal with it. Finds Kimihiro panicking in the kitchen, fan turned on, flapping an apron. Kurogane thinks to himself, so clearly, I have absolutely nothing to worry about tonight.

**

I shouldn’t find you this handsome.

 Hunched over a pile of paper, Kurogane is doing Yuko’s taxes, since she was putting them off long enough that it gave him anxiety. He finally told her that he would just do them, and they would look over the final paperwork together.

Kurogane is the kind of person who always double-checks his math and rereads things twice because he knows that he’s not so smart. Yuko is better with numbers but once he decided to do them, he told her to wait until he was done to start correcting him.

The dinner Kimihiro made them is in the table, uneaten, Kurogane fiddling with the calculator and Yuko watching him. His old man glasses and deep frown, hair pushed back, concentrating.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” she asks, smiling at the memory. She thinks about the way his finger brushed across her cheek, that he was soft when she needed him to be. Him admitting that he likes reading about heroes still endears him to her. The more she gets to know him, the more she wishes that she had seen him sooner. 

“It was embarrassing.” Kurogane replies in a flat voice, the one he uses when he wants Yuko to stop talking because he’s trying to get something done.

“What?” Yuko frowns at him, surprised and a little hurt. Their first kiss was objectively, a good kiss, one that landed right behind her eyes and between her legs. “How? You’re punching above your weight in this relationship.”

“According to who?” Kurogane’s finger hovers over the calculator, and she can tell that he’s doing math in his head. He’s listening, but not really present, and she’d be upset if he weren’t doing a very boring task for her. Taking care of her, insists on it even though he tells her that she’s a pain in his ass every day.

She sets her elbows on the table, leans forward, pouts because she’s a little annoyed that he’s playing it this way. He looks up at her, reading glasses hanging off the end of his nose, waiting for her to speak. “I asked if I could kiss you.”

“And regretfully, I said yes.” He picks up a stack of receipts, holds them up to her. “Now I’m doing all this math for you, looking at all these complex tax laws, trying to keep you on good terms with the government.” He shakes the papers before dropping them back down on the table. Yuko watches, unimpressed with his posturing.

“Sorry for being such an inconvenience.” Rolling her eyes, she decides to go to the fridge and get them each a can of beer. She pads into the kitchen, bends over to scoop up Moro in her arms, the little cat purring as she snuggles up against Yuko. “I can’t believe that I spent so much time waiting to kiss just to end up with you.” She opens the fridge, holding it open with her hip, reaching her free hand inside for the shitty domestic beer Kurogane likes. “You have a terrible taste in beer too.”

“We’ve got leftovers in the fridge if dinner isn’t doing it for you.” Kurogane ignores her comment, clearly not in the mood to engage with her.

“You know I don’t like cooking.” Not entirely a lie, but she definitely isn’t in the mood for leftovers. Kurogane’s standoffish mood has put her off eating.

“I don’t think using a microwave counts as cooking.” She frowns at him now, pulling out the beer still. Carries two in one hand, letting the fridge door close by itself, the cat in her other arm. Sets the beer down in front of him, pulls both tabs, sliding one towards him.

He eyes her, like he knows she’s annoyed with him but doesn’t know whether he really wants to broach to subject with her. “I wasn’t trying to make you mad.” It’s annoying how calm he is now, all business, sensing that now is not the time to joke too late.

“You succeed in everything you do.” Yuko picks up her own beer, taking a sip. “I cannot believe that I waited until college to kiss only to end up with you.”

“I’m good at that part.” Kurogane turns back to his pile of paper, picking up his can of beer too. Takes a sip, swishing it around his mouth before he swallows.

“Waiting for you,” she huffs to herself, “it’s practically settling.”

“Are you really not going to acknowledge the very detailed and stressful paperwork I’m doing for you right now?” He gets this out upon look when he feels like she’s being demanding, as if he’s being persecuted by the universe. She usually finds it funny but in the moment it does little to endear him to her.

“All that work for someone you regret kissing,” she says, “you’re a fool.” She sets the cat down on the table, little Moro walking around the stacks of paper before cuddling up next to Kurogane’s arm. He strokes her back without thinking, affectionate with the cats now.

“That’s just what being in love does,” he sighs. He stares down at his beer, like it has all the answers. “It has you breaking promises and compromising yourself.”

“Just so you know, I expect an apology.” She saunters back to their bedroom, decides to watch a movie while he finishes up, since she doesn’t want to break up with him despite him making it a very tempting option.

“Fine.” Kurogane calls over his shoulder. If he says anything else, Yuko will never know because she closes the bedroom door on him.

**

She still wants her apology even after they review the forms and Kurogane has done her taxes perfectly. He grumbles a little, having thought that finishing the forms would get him out of trouble, but then agrees to go and buy her ice cream, even though it’s raining. They couldn’t find a place she liked, so she settled for the pleasure of making him hold the umbrella while they walked around. He bought her chocolates, which she will eat in bed. She plans on sharing, but she won’t tell him until they’re in bed watching a movie.

It’s a dark, rainy night, just like the night that they kissed for the first time. Kurogane is scowling into the night, while Yuko holds the bag with chocolates by the handle in her right hand. Kurogane made her put on a raincoat too, warned her about the chill before they left the apartment. A walking weatherman he’s so prepared.

“It was raining.” Yuko is still thinking about their first kiss, how it led to the second and third and the now uncountable number of kisses they’ve shared between them. The memories have helped her show grace to Kurogane, who has been like this since day one, so she really has no right to criticize him for being who he is. That said, she still wants to share her sentimentalities, hoping that he’ll see how special they are too.

“When?”

“When we first got together.”

“Clearly an omen.” Kurogane says it under his breath, looks at her sideways and smirks at the irritation on her face. “How do you remember?”

“The trauma was that impactful.” Yuko’s turn to smile to herself, Kurogane looking properly insulted now. Softens when he looks away, biting his lip, something he does when he doesn’t want to admit that something really hurt his feelings. “It was because of the way it sounded with our bodies.”

“Oh.” A monosyllabic answer, probably what she deserves, really. The rain softens their silence, exposing it for the nothing argument that it is. Yuko leans into Kurogane, and he welcomes her, arm around her waist.

They come up on the building faster than Yuko anticipates. She was distracted by the proximity of their bodies. His hand moves to rest on her shoulder, and she moves in closer.

She looks ahead, sees Kimihiro talking to his beloved Himawari, a cute girl with pigtails. Yuko mock gasps, elbows Kurogane in the side, gets a grumble from him as she says, “it’s Himawari!”

“Was that really necessary?” Kurogane says, clearly annoyed. Before she can answer, he pulls her into the alley, where the fire escape is, apparently the actual cool adult. “Let’s leave them alone.”

“They’re teenagers!”

“Kimihiro clearly doesn’t know how to ask her to kiss him, I guarantee they’ll be fine. You’re just nosy.” Kurogane looks over his shoulder as if to check that no one saw them, as if they have to explain themselves to anyone.

“I’m in heels,” she says, “I hate going this way.”

“We don’t have to go up,” he says, “let’s just give them their moment.”

Being a person in love, she can’t argue with his logic. Yuko allows Kurogane to lead her a little deeper into the alley, somewhere a little more private. She knew he was going to kiss her, the best thing to do, but she didn’t expect it to be like in the movies. He lets the umbrella fall, apparently not caring where it lands. Before Yuko can scold him, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her on the mouth, full of intent, his fingers in her hair as he deepens the kiss. Yuko drops the plastic bag she was holding, not caring where it lands. She just wants to touch Kurogane now, sets her hands on his waist as they make out like they are delusional in love. Maybe they are and can only admit it after fighting.

She looks up at him through her wet eyelashes, watches him lick his lower lip, wondering what it means to not know if she’s more jealous of his lip or his tongue, or if she just wants them both on her body.

“I thought I was a loser because I wasn’t kissing anyone until college.” She looks up at him, speaking in a hushed voice. Kurogane shrugs, before leaning back in.

“Well, you’re not such a loser now.” A soft kiss right on her cheek, signaling that he wants to go other places soon. I would let you. But Yuko doesn’t think he’d want to have sex out here when their bedroom is so close.

“Or maybe you’re just a loser too.” Places the possibility right into his mouth, looks up at his eyes as she does. Sees all of her desire reflected right back at her.

“Could be.” A kiss to the corner of her mouth, then one below her eye. So dreamy when he’s loving her, his thing, charm maybe, kicking in when he looks intensely at her mouth then back at her eyes.

“I think I’m a fool for you too, if this is all it takes to like you again.” Yuko means it too. It should not be so easy for Kurogane to get back into her good graces.

“I was thinking the exact same thing.” He leans in for another kiss, and she meets him. They kiss for a little longer, before deciding to go inside.

Up in the apartment, Kimihiro is on his way out again, a call from Shizuka to go see a movie, something they do often now. Yuko makes popcorn while Kurogane chooses a movie. She even shares the chocolates he bought her while they watch an entire city get blown up on the television screen.

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe you actually brought me here.” Yuko watches her breath rise in the cold air, her arms crossed, wearing an oversize parka and a hat with a giant fur pompom on her head. Kurogane is pulling their suitcases out of the car he rented to drive them up here, deciding that they should head north for his birthday and New Year’s. He made her buy a big winter coat, wrapped her up in a big scarf, gave her a new winter hat and mittens. Luckily, she already owned a pair of snow boots. We should go hiking. Yuko doesn’t really want to go, but she loves Kurogane and if all he wants to do on his birthday is go on a long walk in the middle of nowhere, she’ll do it.

“You agreed to it.” Kurogane sets their suitcases down, and then turns back to the car, always very picky about keeping the rental clean. Wearing his own winter jacket, caved to matching mittens when Yuko made a fuss with him.

“Are you sure that you don’t like the beach?” she asks, hoping that he’ll change his mind, knowing that he won’t.  

“I am absolutely certain.” Kurogane isn’t one for sand and hates crowds of people, so it’s not entirely a surprise that he would choose to go on a vacation in the mountains. It’s his birthday and she will help him celebrate however he wants, but she would very much have preferred going somewhere warm so that they could get day drunk while lounging around half naked somewhere beautiful. This vacation could have been so nice!

It's only possible because Kimihiro volunteered to stay at home with the pets, happy to have the place to himself. If he were a normal teenager, she’d assume that he would take the opportunity to throw a party, but she knows that he’ll just have a few friends over for the big countdown. Fai promised to drop by on his way to Amaterasu’s party to check in on things, make sure that the kids would get up to the good kind of trouble.

The snow is dense under her feet, heavy and wet. While his back is turned as he arranges things in the back of the car before closing the trunk, Yuko folds forward and picks up some snow. Packing snow, confirmed when she presses it into a ball. Being a very nice girl, Yuko makes it the size of a medium apple, not packing it too hard. She stands up straight, winds her arm back, steps forward to follow through on her pitch.

The snowball lands on Kurogane’s back, right between his shoulders. He grunts, before turning around, an angry expression on his face. “Are you for real?”

“Yes.” She smiles and gives him a little wave. Yuko watches him make his own snowball and dodges it when he lobs it at her. “You played enough sports that you should have much better aim.”

“You are going to regret saying that.” Kurogane gets a wicked gleam in his eye, the kind he gets when he digs his heels in and becomes determined to win. She hates to admit it, but he is very attractive when he decides to get his way.

Lust rooting her to the spot, she watches Kurogane make another snowball, lets him hit her this time. He scowls now, wanted more of a challenge apparently. “You let that happen.”

“It didn’t hurt either way.”

Kurogane chooses to say nothing, keeping his response to himself. He just scowls and picks up their luggage, carrying all the bags into the hotel. Yuko followed him, was smiling sweetly at the clerk while he took out his wallet. She tried to say that they were on their honeymoon, but Kurogane said that he’d never marry her. He frowned when the clerk interrupted their exchange to ask for a driver’s license and credit card. Handed them over wordlessly, didn’t acknowledge Yuko when she winked at him.

**

Dinner is at a restaurant a few streets over from the hotel. They walked there, snow crunching under their books, Yuko leaning against Kurogane because she insisted on wearing her leather boots, the heel four inches. Yuko isn’t one for the pastoral, but she does think there’s something romantic about staying in a small town covered in snow during the holiday season. Kurogane has been a strange mood, letting her take a picture of him on the way over to the restaurant, the world illuminated by holiday lights and streetlamps, golden. He didn’t even frown at her, just kept his eyes fixed ahead of them. Yuko deleted the picture when they got to the restaurant, feeling like she caught him having one of his strange, private moments.

They’re sitting across from each other now, Yuko waiting for her plate of spaghetti, knowing that Kurogane promised to give her half of his steak. She’s going to make him eat half her meal too, even if he whines about it to her.

He’s staring intently at his phone, not in the mood to talk. The top two buttons of his shirt are left undone, the sleeves rolled up because it’s so warm inside the restaurant. He hasn’t said anything about how nice she looks, he just stared through her and spaced out when she asked back at the hotel. His strange mood kept her from giving him a hard time.

“You took me to a nice place.” She picks up her red wine. “It’s very romantic.”

“I’m trying to get laid.” He doesn’t look up from his phone, scrolling, for whatever reason, aloof.

“You don’t need to convince me to sleep with you. I already like you.” Yuko sips her wine. Kurogane shrugs.

“I just wanted to do something nice for us.” He locks his phone and tucks it back into his pocket, resting his elbows on the table. He can be just as evasive with his motives as her, and for that reason, it’s almost more frustrating to experience for that reason.

More often than not, Kurogane seems to see past the slinky outfits Yuko puts together. Tonight, she wore one of her expensive dresses, the kind that she spent too much money on. The neckline is a scoop, the color a deep red. When he looks up at her, he takes her all in.

“You look very nice.” He seems to mean it too. She can tell by the way that he’s speaking. Genuine, instead of him trying to make conversation.

“It took you a long time to say it.” Not one to be easy, Yuko decides that she has to give him a little itty bit of trouble.

“It’s more genuine and romantic unprompted.” Back to his old self now, Kurogane rolls his eyes, like he regrets taking her out, the exact way that she likes him.

**

Every birthday since his parents died has been very weird for Kurogane. He thought that it would become less painful with each year, and while their absence hurts a little less, he has mixed feelings about getting closer to the age they were when they died. It would feel wrong to surpass them but even worse to want to die.

He came up here for a distraction and brought Yuko because she wouldn’t have let him go without annoying questions. Besides, he likes having her around. She won’t let him sit and brood in his bad feelings.

Kurogane wakes up at 9:35 a.m. to Yuko’s cold feet between his calves and his cellphone vibrating on her side of the bed. He rolls onto his back and blinks awake while Yuko grumbles, yanking his phone from the charger and tossing it to him. It bounces off his chest, landing on the floor, all while making a hideous noise. He rolls over, reaches to the floor to pick it up. Sees that it’s Fai and answers. “Hello.”

“Happy birthday!” Fai is so cheerful over the phone, somehow a morning person despite his late hours. Kurogane scowls, sits up.

“Thanks.”

“You sound annoyed with me.”

“Yuko and I were sleeping.” Kurogane rubs his forehead, missing dreamland already. He doesn’t know what he was doing, but it must be nicer than listening to Fai blab it up.

“Not anymore,” Yuko yawns. He feels the mattress shift as she rolls onto her back, stretching out her legs.

“You two should be awake and exploring anyway,” Fai says, “vacation and all.”

“The best part of vacation is being able to stay asleep.” Kurogane groans as he lies back down, still tired, wanting to fall asleep but unable to now. Yuko in the same boat, judging by how she rolls on top of him.

“You’d be wasting away your special day.”

“It’s not that special.” Kurogane opens his mouth the add more, lie further because while this day may not be special to him it is significant, but Yuko plucks the phone from his hand and starts talking.

“You called too early.” She sits up, straddling Kurogane’s stomach. Her fancy slip leaves little to the imagination, short and sheer and very pretty. Kurogane thinks about telling her to just hang up, that there are so many other things they could be doing right now. He’s ready to be distracted.

Unfortunately, Fai seems to have pulled Yuko in, and she’s listening to him either tell a story or give a complaint. Perhaps she was the real reason he called, and Kurogane’s birthday was just an excuse. Stealing Yuko away from him, that jerk!

He watches her stand up, walking towards the window. Kurogane listens to her one-sided conversation, Fai up and early on his alcohol run, talking him through what snacks to buy, giving her input on what he ought to wear. Kurogane pulls the comforter around himself, up to his chin, sliding over to Yuko’s abandoned side of the bed, lying in her lingering body heat. Grumpy because it’s his birthday, wants her all to himself, for just a single day.

Yuko opens the curtains, frowning. “I got to go,” she murmurs, before hanging up. She turns to look at him, the bright light jarring. “We’re completely snowed in.”

“What?” Kurogane asks, sitting up. “What does that mean?”

“It means that there’s two feet of freshly fallen snow on the ground, and I’m going to bet that hiking would be a bad idea.” Kurogane stands up, leaving the comforter behind on the bed. He scowls when he looks outside, seeing all the snow. He didn’t check the forecast—hadn’t bothered, so unlike him—and now he’s paying for it. A loud sigh, and he wonders what they’re going to do on his birthday.

“Fuck.” He doesn’t know what else to say. This isn’t what he wanted at all. Kurogane wouldn’t call himself outdoorsy, but he was certainly looking forward to being in the woods. He bets that Yuko would have had fun too once she took in all the scenery. They could have even had another snowball fight, a real one this time.

“It’s not so bad,” Yuko sidles up to him, places her hand on his back. “We can do other things.” She leans against him, looking up at his face when he turns to speak.

“Like what?” he asks, annoyed.

“Stuff,” she shrugs, giving him a coy smile, her inner thoughts always a mystery until she makes them known.

**

Other things—what did that mean?

In her mind, Yuko meant that they should watch a movie, or he could find one of his nerd books on her iPad while she reads the book that she brought with her. They could’ve taken a bath, or lounged around, but somehow, Kurogane interpreted her words to mean that she wants to bang. And she does, but she had a whole plan and wasn’t expecting it so soon.

She stares up at the ceiling as Kurogane kisses her stomach, his hand over her breast, thumb massaging a circle into a soft spot on her body. Her toes curl and she wraps her legs around his body. Runs a hand through his hair, sits up on an elbow. “I should be doing stuff to you, cos it’s your birthday.” He looks up, frowns.

“I prefer to be like this.” He presses his tongue to her stomach and drags it up to her breastbone, pressing his mouth to the base of her throat.

“What am I, a toy, a doll?” Yuko splits her legs apart, watching him rise over her. The look in his eyes gives her the flutters. Fantasies of him looking her in the eye while he does whatever he wants to her, so shameful, but making her nerves sing.

“A doll wouldn’t talk back so much,” he replies. Please, eat me up Kurogane! Don’t leave any piece of me behind! Their relationship is often a push-pull that makes Yuko want all kinds of things, but especially, for him to never leave.

“I bought nice lingerie and brought scarves to tie you up.” She has an entire vision—she wants him laid out in front of her, arms tied back, looking up at her in her nice new underthings. He’s bad at the heart eyes but the intensity in his gaze when he looks at her would be enough to make up for it.

“So, you want to play with me?” Kurogane smiles to himself, appreciating their corny in-joke, has a sense of humor after all. It is probably what keeps them together, for all their disagreements.

“You’re a cute toy—you better not go away!” Yuko huffs as Kurogane stands up. He doesn’t smile, but he does look amused to see her on her back, open to him, all naked.

“Aren’t you supposed to submit to me on my birthday?” he asks, taking off his sweatpants. He kicks them towards their suitcases. Yuko puts a hand to the base of her throat because he looks that nice without clothes on.

“I took my clothes off for you.” Her nightie gone with minimal fuss, his mouth on her neck with his hand on her ass. With a big sigh, she slides down the bed, towards him. Kurogane climbs onto the bed, over Yuko now, her legs splitting apart for him.

“Bare minimum.” He leans over and breathes onto her neck. So close, warm, a steady presence.

“I let you do all kind of things to me,” she murmurs, turning her head to catch his mouth in a kiss.

The room is a little cold, but his body heat warms her right up. He stretches over her body, his arm pressed over her head, into the pillow. He presses a kiss to her cheek, being caring, knowing that she finds it hard to hold out on him when his mouth is on her body. “So many things.” Another sigh, Kurogane staying quiet, his body pressing down into hers, his weight enough to give her own body purpose. It feels good to be in love.

His hand on her hip reminds her that they have better things to do. A little squeeze, and she opens right up, butterflies apart, tilting her hips up so that he penetrates her at just the right angle. The sensation knocks the air from her body, becoming softer as he leaves a wet moan in her neck.

It’s been some time since Yuko has been in a relationship that celebrates milestones like birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries. Having Kurogane around for the big stuff isn’t so bad—he put up decorations with minimal complaint, wrapped presents, helped Kimihiro with dinner because they both knew Yuko, Fai, and Shizuka would be drinking the whole time. She used to laugh at girls who cared so much about convention, but she can also admit that she did it because she always wanted to be perceived as cool and worldly.

The sounds that come out of her body are entirely involuntary—ah-ah-ha-ahs at a pitch higher than she finds dignified, but it feels too good for her to resist. Good at this girlfriend thing, getting better at being vulnerable too, Yuko surrenders. Her legs squeeze his waist, the tension so good that she almost can’t believe it.  

There are explosions that are somehow contained within her body, forcing her to eat whatever disbelief lingers. Their orgasms are sealed by the kiss he leaves on her cheek.

**

In a strange mood after sex, Kurogane laid down next to Yuko while she slept off their morning. He looked at her face, peaceful in sleep, and wondered where Yuko goes when her eyes are closed. It could be nice to share a dreamland with her. She’s the kind of person who keeps the vibes immaculate, as she would say.

He stayed beside her through her snoring, staying quiet, not even shoving her over when she moved towards him, seeking his body heat. He rolled over, let her have him in her arms.

After she woke up, Kurogane found a movie on television. One of the old samurai movies, ridiculous to watch while snowed up in the country, but comforting. These are the kind of movies he’d watch with his dad. Yuko curls into him, amused by the fights. He holds her, tracing shapes on her arm, stroking her back with his other hand.

“You know, I never liked tough guys.” Yuko turns her head to look up at his face. She places the tip of her finger on his chin, turning his face to hers. Kurogane rolls his eyes, cups her elbow.

“What does that mean?” Kurogane adds, “that you see me as beneath you?”

“Men who are good at throwing punches were never impressive to me.”

“I have never thrown a single punch to impress a girl.” All of Kurogane’s punches were to serve his own purposes. He’s grown enough to admit that this isn’t very noble.

“You were blessed with a handsome face and passable wit.” She leans forward, kisses him on the chin. Kurogane feels her shift positions, blood rushing to all the familiar places as she moves over him, their bodies pressed up against each other. He notices her very pretty eyelids, nice eyelashes, the soft curve of her lower lip.

“You always find new ways to call me dumb.” He reaches down to grab her ass, happy to not have to think about his weird feelings. Take me out of my body and then place me back in it. If they can’t go outside, they might as well fuck around.

“I’m clearly baiting you, because you always catch me.” Yuko gives him a smile, her arms around his head as she kisses him. A few more kisses, and she murmurs, “I’m not sorry that we can’t go on that dumb hike today. This is so much better.” Still naked, their bodies easily slide together, familiar already. She reaches down between them, stroking his penis, letting him touch her body.

“We could have done it outside.” He’s confident that they would be able to find each other’s bodies through all the layers, find a private place in the wild, like animals do.

“It’s too cold, and you care too much about the law.” Yuko is right, of course, but Kurogane doesn’t want to admit it, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Sitting up, she raises her hips and angles them together. He catches her hips so that she slows down, letting them both enjoy the sensation of getting closer. The soft glide is easy as they start moving together, creating distance to get closer together. Her mouth falls open, profanities cut off by his name and her moans. She does smile when they come together, moving in a way to makes him groan out loud, gets another jerk from his hips. She laughs out loud before folding forward, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

He places his hands on her face, kissing her back. Yuko sets her hand on his chest, creating a little space between their bodies. She licks her upper lip after pulling away, still close to him. He feels emotional as he looks up at her, feeling his own kind of tenderness, snowed in, together.

“Thanks for coming here with me.” He speaks in a low voice, massages her cheeks with his thumbs.

“I’ll make you regret it yet.” A knowing smirk, she’s always ready to pull one over on him. It used to bother Kurogane, but it stopped when he surrendered to his feelings. If there is a price for happiness, he will gladly pay it later.

Overcome, he pulls her down and rolls her over. When he hears the noise she makes, he smiles.

**

Neither of them made plans for Kurogane’s birthday dinner. Yuko didn’t want to make any presumptions about the mood, and Kurogane isn’t one for fancy restaurants. It’s a good thing too, because the snow has shut down everything but the essential services and the most dedicated businesses.

They sit down at the last empty table at the closest open izakaya, the same one as yesterday. They sit across from each other, their knees touching. Yuko got dressed in the bathroom, telling Kurogane to keep out, poking her head out and frowning at him when he asked her why she was being so shy. It’s a surprise for you! Yuko huffed, before closing the door again. Five minutes later, she came out all dressed up, wearing a corset over a black turtleneck and pencil skirt, always overdressed. She made a comment about being glad that she didn’t have to tell him to put on a nice button down. Yuko pouted about having to wear flat, practical boots through the snow, clinging to Kurogane’s arm as they negotiated the snow drifts.

A server takes their order, Yuko prompting Kurogane to order his favorites, because she wants today to be all about him. They get their shochu, order a few dishes to share as well. Yuko eyes her options, holding her chopsticks in one hand, her phone face down on the table. “I emailed your present to you before we left the hotel.”

“I got an email for my birthday?” Kurogane rolls his eyes, acting put out. Yuko flicks her eyes to his face, frowning.

“I planned this well ahead of time,” she replies, “I put a lot of thought into it.”

“I bet.” Kurogane grumbles, picking up his phone, unlocking it with his passcode because there’s something sketchy about facial identification to him. He taps over to his email, privately amused by the ~~~happy birthday baby~~~ subject line, from Yuko’s personal email.

Three attachments, file names like JFFFAJR8539483.png, random letters and numbers. He gives her a distrustful look, getting her to mouth “What?” He looks back down at his phone and swallows, genuinely surprised when it’s digital fan art, not the horny roided out kind either. The next three images are the same theme, but different franchises and characters. The first is Kento Nanami from Jujutsu Kaisen, slashing Mahito in half, across his torso. From Naruto, Asuma impaling Hidan with his own scythe, and finally, from Bleach, Gin chopping off Aizen’s head. Each image is artful, well composed, with fluid movement and beautiful colors. Violent but not lurid, and the characters actually look like themselves, no erotic charge whatsoever. Kurogane doesn’t usually look at fan art because he doesn’t want to stumble across anything sexually obscene, but he gets curious, so he actually really appreciates this gift.

“Do you like it?” Yuko asks, sounding cautious. Kurogane looks up from his phone. He blinks, smiles.

“Yeah, I like it.” He didn’t know that she noticed him like that. “How did you pick these characters?”

“You like the man of action types, but I can also admit that after reading sixteen hundred and sixty-nine chapters of manga, I wish that the fights had turned out this way.” She picks up a pickle from a dish, sets it on her own plate.

“You read all of it?” Kurogane has read it all too, but he started when he was a kid with too much time on his hands. He thought that he would’ve noticed her switching out her horny fan fiction and romance novels for shounen manga. Perhaps he should’ve checked on her iPad more often.

“I’m a woman who commits.” Yuko gives him one of her sly smiles, a smirk really, rolling one of her shoulders back as she sits up straighter.

“And you became invested?” Kurogane is a little excited, despite himself. She’s smart and he bets that she could have interesting things to say about series like Naruto or Bleach, if she wanted to.

“Well, it was the perfect gift because it’s something you never would have thought to buy for yourself. I read way more of that manga than I ever wanted to.”

“Did you have a favorite character?” Kurogane adds, teasing a little, “you obviously enjoyed it, if you read all three series.”

There’s a group of college-age adults in the corner of the restaurant, loud and rowdy. Older couples sit together too, spirit of the new year everywhere.    Everyone bundled up to get here and the layers are now peeled off, piled around the chairs. The kind of festive chaos that Kurogane likes. Yuko picks up her glass, taking a sip of liquor, before sighing again. She makes eye contact with Kurogane, a pout on her face. “I will say this without shame—I would let Kisuke Urahara hit.”

“He’s a scammer just like you.” Kurogane picks up his own drink, tips it to her before taking a sip.

“I don’t scam!” Yuko pouts, unimpressed by Kurogane’s comment. He takes it in stride though, because she has been pretty nice to him all day, and he’s confident that she’ll do her best to get along with him until tomorrow.

“Capitalism is the greatest scam of all.”

“Well, happy birthday.” Yuko reaches over and picks up a skewer of chicken, holding it up to her mouth. She takes a bite of meat, chewing while looking right at him. She swallows, sticks her tongue in her cheek before speaking. “Your birthday is on a day of birth and death.”

“Oh yeah?” He takes a sip of his drink, sets it back down.

“End of the old year, eve of the new one.”

“So, what does that make me?” Kurogane decides that he’d like one of her pronouncements to finish the year.

“A Capricorn.” Yuko takes another bite of her chicken. Kurogane shrugs, because, honestly, it’s probably what he deserves.

**

Back at the hotel, Yuko escapes to the bathroom, citing another surprise. Kurogane didn’t get in her way, taking off his shoes than going to sit down on the bed. He’s looking at the pictures, sending the watermarked files to Syaoran, who is also a fan. He answers happy birthday texts from Amaterasu, Sôma, and Tomoyo. He hears the bathroom door open and Yuko’s throat clear, and he immediately looks up, takes her beauty in.

“You look ridiculous without underwear on.” Yuko is in the lingerie she was talking about this morning. It’s all red lace (her signature color), with a see-through bra, stockings with suspenders and a garter, but no panties. It all looks very expensive, and when she twirls around, the sheer black stockings have a straight line that moves up the back of her slim legs.

“It’s not like it would’ve stayed on long anyway.” Yuko frowns, “are you saying you don’t like it?” She walks towards her suitcase, pulling out two silk scarves.

“I didn’t say that,” he replies, setting his phone down, heading off the disagreement while he still can. “It’s just that underwear would tie it all together.”

“I can’t believe you’re complaining about me not wearing panties!” Yuko sighs, “I thought you’d be happy.” She walks over the bed, throwing the silk scarves to the side as she climbs onto Kurogane’s lap, her arms around his neck. Kurogane starts to unbutton his shirt, looking up at her, waiting for another inevitable gripe.

“I want to tie you up.” Yuko places a kiss on Kurogane’s neck, the place that always makes him soften up.  

“Why?”

“Because I think you’d feel really good vulnerable and powerless.” Yuko says this right in his ear, her voice soft and persuasive. She strokes the back of his neck, being sweet with him.

“Actually, that sounds horrible if it involves you.” He is full of his own wicked ideas, and besides, he likes being able to touch her. Nudge her open further, encourage her to move faster, get her closer.  

Not the least bit discouraged, Yuko gets off his lap, letting him stand up to undress as she sprawls across the bed, on her back. She stretches her arms over her head, crossing her legs at the ankle.

They eye each other as he takes his clothes off. Neither smiles, waiting to see who will blink first. He leaves his clothes in a pile, climbing onto the bed over her. The trim of her bra cuts into her breasts, the lace full of flowers and butterflies. It’s delicate. He traces the edge of a butterfly’s wing with the tip of his finger, right over her nipple.

“I think you’d have a lot of fun,” she says, “it’ll be good for you to let go.” Kurogane looks down at her, then places the tip of his finger in her mouth. She presses her teeth down, gently, and he inhales, the decision made for him.

“Okay.” Fuck it, he thinks, rolling onto his back, rolling his eyes as Yuko claps her hands and kicks out her legs, excited.

A little amused, Kurogane watches Yuko reach out to grab the scarves. He lies back on the bed, putting his arms over his head. He watches her climb over him, taking his left hand and tying his wrist to the headboard. She smiles down at him as she repeats it with his right hand. Yuko squeezes his hand after, sliding her pelvis down, their bodies catching in the right places.

Without thinking, he goes to reach out for her, then foiled by the silk scarf around his wrist, no give at all. “Why’re we doing this?” He groans, realizing his situation, the fuck it attitude disappearing quickly. “It’s my birthday.” He’s a little disappointed with himself that it took so little time for him to decide it’s not for him, but it’s also his birthday which means that he gets to voice all his immediate concerns.

“Cos you look really hot tied up.” Yuko sits up on her knees, reaches behind her back, and takes her bra off. She looks completely delighted, knowing exactly what she’s doing.

“Well, I’m done with this game.” Kurogane doesn’t squirm, hung up about looking weak, even though it’s just the two of them, and she’s delighted to see him on edge.

“I’m not.” She leans down so that the tips of their noses touch. He hates when she’s like this, but he also finds it very attractive.

“It’s my birthday!”

“But as I said, you look really good.” She sits up, setting her hands on his chest, wiggles her hips a little bit. The expression on his face doesn’t change. He stares up at her, letting his arms go limp, giving her nothing. Yuko sits up a little straighter, tries to rub up against him again. He keeps his mouth shut, not giving her anything, staying strong.

A sigh, she leans forward, untying one of the silk scarves. “I knew this would happen, which is why I didn’t buy handcuffs.”

“Oh, really?” Kurogane asks, frown falling from his face, the impatience and urgency still there. Yuko nods, freeing his right hand. She takes hold of his wrist, massaging it a little for the ache, before setting it down on the pillow.

“Yes,” she replies, “I can’t deny you on your birthday.”

“But any other day?”

“I’m not a rapist!” She looks unimpressed, freeing his other hand.

“You don’t have to sound so offended.”

Not listening to him, Yuko sits up and holds up the scarf. It has an intricate pattern, deep colors too. Butterflies and flowers, feathers, plumes of smoke. Her favorite motifs. She takes the scarf and wraps it around her body. She looks down, smoothing the fabric over her breasts. “You know, I can tie myself up with a bow.”

“What?” he asks, watching her begin to tie said bow around her breasts. “You’re serious?” She manages to make something decent, leaning over and sliding her hands under the scarves, pushing her breasts together, trying to make them look nice. She sits up straight, evidently proud of herself.

“Ta-da!” Her big smile returns to her face, and he hates to admit it, she does look very nice.

“You think I’m that kind of guy?”

“Every guy is that kind of guy.” She places her hands on his chest, leaning down to kiss him. Kurogane feels them open up to each other, his hand landing on the side of her neck.

They roll over, Yuko down on her back for him. He rolls his shoulders back, hovers over her. “Happy birthday.” She sells it with a smile, fingers toying with the one end of the scarf. Kurogane looks at her but says nothing. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah.” She makes a face at him, and Kurogane rolls his eyes. “You already told me.”

“So? I wanted to say it again because you’re so handsome and we’re about to be intimate.” Yuko opens her legs, and Kurogane holds his ground, not looking because he doesn’t want to lose. She gives him a coy smile, presses the tip of her index finger into his chest. “You always act so tough with me.”

“I can’t have you thinking I’ve gone soft on you.” With his left hand, he undoes the bow, pushing the scarf to the side. He leans down and kisses her collarbone, her hands landing on his shoulders.  

“So, we’re going to do it, right?” she asks, hooking a leg over his hip.

“We’re the middle of nowhere with shit else to do.” He reaches for her hand, presses it down into the pillow as he returns to her body, reclaiming his place inside of her.

Third time today, Kurogane decides to try and keep it slow and purposeful. Yuko’s eyelids flutter and her mouth opens when he drags over the right spot. They stop to make out a few times, kissing just because they can. No one else around, no responsibilities, and nothing better to do, all that a person can ask for.

Even though she bought fancy underthings and wrapped herself up in a makeshift bow, he is most moved by the fact that she agreed to come up here with him in the first place, that she got him such a thoughtful present, and that she has his back. A few scraps of silk and lace don’t compare to the security of being loved.

Kurogane squeezes her hand a little tighter the closer he gets to coming. Yuko squeezes back, her nails leaving crescent moons into the back of his hand. They look right at each other, noses brushing, each breath landing on the other’s mouth.

Sticky and sweaty, the hot in the right places, they get as close as they can possibly get. It takes a minute for them to disentangle after. Kurogane allows himself to sink into the mattress, realizes he’s not sure what year it is but too content to care much about it. Yuko sits up, looking down at him. “Do you think we missed the countdown?”

“There’ll be another one.” He rubs with eye with the heel of his hand, not wanting to think too hard about another birthday.

There’s a silence, before she speaks again. “I think that we should stay here for another two days.” She says this unprompted, while Kurogane looks for his phone.

“Why?” Right after he asks the question, Yuko’s phone starts ringing, her obnoxious ringtone filling up the room.

“Well, all that snow.” Yuko sits up, reaches for her phone, which she left on the floor beside the bed. “Being with you, in this adult way, is actually very nice, despite how unpleasant you can choose to be.” She turns away to answer her phone, and he can tell from the warmth in her voice when she answers that Kimihiro has called to wish her a happy new year, even though he claims that she is shortening his lifespan.

There’re messages on Kurogane’s phone too. A text from Fai, with a picture of Chi buying milk and strawberry gummies in a convenience store, glitter under her eyes, heading home early from the party. Amaterasu and Sôma sending him short messages, full sentences with a tasteful selection of emojis. A selfie from Tomoyo, featuring Syaoran and Sakura. He sends the cursory replies, wishing them each a happy new year, allowing himself to be a little sentimental.

They turn their phones off at the same time by accident, setting them down on their respective bedside tables. Yuko pulls on one of Kurogane’s t-shirts, while he brushes his teeth. He turns the lights off, sliding into bed next to her. “I think this has been my best birthday in a long time.” He frowns to himself when Yuko laughs.

“Because you got fan art? Loser.”

“You commissioned it, so you’re a double loser.” Yuko catches his chin in her hand, and he easily makes out her smile in the dark.