Ame
Five days ago
Kaido has a habit of shuddering when he likes something. It's a little trick of mine since he can get so quiet when we start kissing. I know he likes when I run my fingers through his hair. He likes when I dig my nails into his back and up his shoulder blades.
There are more subtle signs. When he loves something, his eyes become half-lidded, relaxed, and his breath has simultaneously cool, hot endnotes. He loves when I kiss the corners of his mouth with tenderness. He loves when I trace his tattoos.
For all the quiet Kaido becomes when we're together, he also asks me things, uses such a gentle voice, I don't realize he's talking.
Is this okay? he'll ask, like he's not sure if he's doing something right.
You taste like strawberries, he'll say, trying to resist the urge to laugh.
He'll give me little orders, teasing affections, his tone deep and resounding, yet patient.
As he's kissing my neck, So trusting. He nips me, making me shiver. What if I left a little mark here, hm?
As I straddle his lap, the first time I ever have the confidence to take my shirt off in front of him, he says, as if afraid of tainting what he sees, "you're so beautiful."
"Touch me, Kaido," I breathe between kisses, laying my hands on his shoulders. He sighs when I slip them down his clothed chest, feeling the ridges of plentiful scars under the fabric.
He grips my hips, a little too hard, his hands enveloping the bones he used to treat like ceramic. He's eager, newer to this than I am. Some of his patience thins at the sudden contact. My bed shifts beneath his weight as he adjusts. He pulls me down, and slides his touch up my spine, sending shivers down it.
I gently tilt his chin up with my hand and kiss down the column of his throat, indulging my curiosity. I want him to take his shirt off too. His costume is full-bodied with a belt separating the center, all black with red scale designs. I want to feel him against me, scars and all. I have a share of my own too after all.
Just as I reach for Kaido's sleeves, he grinds me into his lap, primal sorts of desires in his eyes. I make a noise somewhere between a moan and a whine. Kaido looks at me, both cautious and waiting. Waiting for a signal from me to keep going.
And just as I take off his top...
"Ame?" Kaido and I both still completely as a voice echoes down the hall. It isn't Yuki's either. It's Shoto-san's.
"Fuck," I whisper. Kaido puts his hand on my mouth.
"Shh–"
"You shh–"
"Ame? Can I come in?"
"I'm changing! Give me a sec!" I yell, practically throwing myself off of Kaido. I scramble to tame my hair back to its usual shape, tripping over myself.
"Get in the closet," I whisper, picking up my shirt from the ground.
Kaido quirks a brow. "What?"
"Get in the closet," I bite it this time, opening its doors and pointing beneath the hangers. The closet reaches all the way to the ceiling, but I have a sneaky suspicion he might have to duck a little.
"Oh yeah perfect," he scoffs, walking over. "That's exactly where I belong after feeling up a guy on his bed–"
"Shut up and get in!"
