Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11306733.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Persona_5
  Relationship:
      Kurusu_Akira/Sakura_Futaba, Persona_5_Protagonist/Sakura_Futaba
  Character:
      Kurusu_Akira, Sakura_Futaba, Takamaki_Ann, Niijima_Makoto, Okumura_Haru,
      Morgana_(Persona_5), Sakamoto_Ryuji, Kitagawa_Yusuke, Sakura_Sojiro
  Additional Tags:
      Body_Positivity, Self_Confidence_Issues, Mild_exposure_therapy,
      Established_Relationship, Smut, Fluff_and_Smut, Sassy_Futaba_and_Cocky
      Joker_are_my_life, 17_year_old_character
  Series:
      Part 3 of The_Hermit_and_Her_Joker
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-26 Completed: 2017-08-31 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 42173
****** (Makin') Baby Steps ******
by Kairi_of_Knives
Summary
     "Following June's incredibly unfortunate and inaccurate sex scandal,
     the topic of Futaba and Akira's supposed sex life disappeared from
     everyone's minds, all parties quite content to let that chapter
     close. Well, all minds, except Futaba's. Akira had promised that if
     she wanted to pursue a sexual relationship with him, he would assist
     her in any way she found useful until she comfortably got to that end
     goal. When her mother first devised the idea of a promise list, it
     was intended to be a method of encouraging change and personal growth
     in small, hopefully successful steps. She would probably be rolling
     over in her grave if she knew Futaba was using her technique to get
     laid."
     Following the events of The S Word (Tales from the Thieve's Guild
     chapter 2), Futaba decides to start her journey towards battling her
     lingering inner demons to feel comfortable in her own skin as well as
     feel safe in a physical relationship with Akira. The path is rocky
     and sometimes painful, but oh so rewarding.
     Can be read as a stand alone.
Notes
     Also known as "The Sexy Timez Promise List".
     The takes place in the same universe as both Trading Hearts and Tales
     from the Thieves' Guild. This directly follows the events of the
     second chapter The S Word, so certain elements of that fic will be
     directly referenced here.
     But, so you don't have to read it if you don't want to:
     -The Phantom Thieves group as it was in the end of the canon game
     currently live together in a house Haru acquired from her uncle,
     which they called The Thieves' Guild or The Guild for short.
     -Ryuji and Akira share a room that they named The Den because it is
     Ryuji and Futaba's video game den. There's a beanbag in front of the
     TV which Akira sleeps in often like a bird in its nest, so everyone
     calls this beanbag The Nest.
     -Akira doesn't go to university, instead he works at LeBlanc with
     Haru.
     -Futaba is a second year at Shujin at the start of this. She has
     chosen to live with Sojiro until she graduates but comes over to the
     Guild basically every night.
     Some other things to note:
     -There is smut in this, mostly in the second chapter. It does get
     somewhat explicit.
     -I've tagged this as underage because Futaba is technically 17 at the
     beginning.
     -If you see ~~~ that means the time skip occurs within the same
     checklist item(s) as previously discussed. If you see ~x~x~x~ then
     the time skip switches checklist item(s).
     -Bolded text is checklist items. Italics are thoughts or speech
     coming from a different medium (such as dialogue in a video).
     This isn't Beta'd so lemme know if you find any flaws.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Following June's incredibly unfortunate and inaccurate sex scandal, the topic
of Futaba and Akira's supposed sex life disappeared from everyone's minds, all
parties quite content to let that chapter close. Well, all minds, except
Futaba's. Akira had promised that if she wanted to pursue a sexual relationship
with him, he would assist her in any way she found useful until she comfortably
got to that end goal. When her mother first devised the idea of a promise list,
it was intended to be a method of encouraging change and personal growth in
small, hopefully successful steps. 
 
She would probably be rolling over in her grave if she knew Futaba was using
her technique to get laid.
 
It wasn't as simple as that though. Futaba knew her time in isolation and
struggles with PTSD had made her incredibly uncomfortable with not only the
outside world, but also herself. If she wanted to one day be comfortable enough
in herself to make love to her partner, she had to first get used to the body
she was born into. There were a myriad of parts she didn't exactly like. Her
boobs were too small, her legs too thin, her hips too boxy and not curvy
enough. The first few items on her 'Sexy Timez Promise List' were stare at your
faults in the mirror and be naked often.
 
Even just reading the items made her stomach turn uncomfortably, but she
couldn't let that stop her. She would have never gone outside her room if she
wasn't being pushed, she recalled. And look at her now: a proper second year in
high school who could ride crowded train and shop in Akiba all by herself. Just
because that push was coming from herself now rather than someone else
shouldn't change anything.
 
Ideally anyway. Her first pass at trying to look at herself naked was an utter
disaster. It was barely even five minutes of poking and prodding at her own
skin until she was sobbing hysterically, at the great despair of poor Sojiro
who was locked out of the room and thus couldn't come to her aid. The next
afternoon, as she laid in the comforting circle of Akira's arms on the living
room couch, she sought the expert advice of Akira, Ann and Makoto.
 
"Maybe you just need to do that over and over. 5 minutes yesterday. 10 minutes
today. So on and so forth until you conquer this," Makoto suggested, sounding
uncharacteristically unsure of her own advice.
 
"Um, no offense Makoto," Ann piped in, "But I would rather die than do that.
And it's not even my issue! That could work, but as a first step it seems waaay
too harsh."
 
Akira nodded, brushing his fingers softly through Futaba's hair. "I agree. Too
much risk of discouraging you, Futaba. We probably just have to come at it from
a different angle."
 
"Maybe she could start going to the bathhouse more often! Introducing any
amount of casual nudity into her routine might make it less of a big deal," Ann
suggested.
 
"That isn't a bad idea," Futaba admitted. "It's just not free, so I wouldn't be
able to do it too often."
 
Akira brought a hand up to his fringe, twirling it in thought, "And it doesn't
directly tackle the idea of looking at yourself naked either." The black haired
boy pondered the issue for a moment, then fixated his gaze elsewhere. "Yusuke!
Could you come here for a second?" 
 
The lanky man looked up from his sketch book, where he had been leisurely
profiling Morgana, fast asleep on his favorite arm chair. "But of course."
 
Futaba looked up at Akira skeptically. The boy merely kissed her forehead.
"Yusuke, you've painted nude models before, yeah?"
 
"Of course. We have had many volunteer to help our art classes at Kosei."
 
"Did you know of any strategies they used to look comfortable sitting in front
of that many people while nude?"
 
Ah. So that was his angle. Not a bad one, Futaba had to admit. Nude models had
a lot of guts just bearing themselves to others, but they also had to look
natural while doing it. There had to be some models that weren't naturally ok
with that.
 
"Actually, we very rarely have models come sit in our classes anymore. So few
people are comfortable enough with the environment that it is almost useless to
experienced artists. We rather have them relax nude in their own homes with
several cameras set to film them. That way, we can witness the human form at
its most vulnerable and relaxed and not have to waste the subject's time. Every
individual can pause the footage when they find their perfect angle and re-
watch as many times as they choose."
 
Ann blinked. "There has to be some getting used to that too though right?"
 
Yusuke hummed. "Surely. But we simply account for that by deleting the first
half an hour of footage. Usually, if the subject is watching a movie or
reading, they relax by that point."
 
"And...do you think that footage is... representative of the subject?" Futaba
fiddled with the hem of her shorts. She swallowed harshly. "Like. You know how
pictures look different than the mirror which looks different than looking in
person? How does video...?"
 
"Ah." Yusuke nodded sagely. "It is slightly different than looking at someone
in person, but it also offers a different perspective that I think might even
be better. The human body sits differently depending on what it's doing. The
video gives glimpses at multiple different stances and even sometimes emotions.
The lines of your back can go from smooth and circular to firm and rigid if you
become angry or upset. The tensing of the abdominal muscles fades away when
someone finds a more comfortable position to sit in often times. It is truly
interesting."
 
Futaba nodded, considering. Perhaps part of the issue with her looking in the
mirror was that she was uncomfortable even before she looked. Her body language
would have been rigid and strained in a situation like that. If she was looking
at a frightened naked person, of course she wouldn't enjoy what she saw. Maybe
it would suck just as bad this way. But, maybe it would be better. She wouldn't
know until she tried.
 
"Do you happen to have a camera, Inari?"
 
                                      ~~~
 
It all came down to this.  Getting a video recording of her without her
completely spazzing out had not been a one time attempt.  The first two times,
she just ignored the movie she put on and fidgeted uncomfortably for two hours.
 Then, Morgana had proposed the idea of Akira talking to her on the phone.  It
had worked a lot better, but she ended up pacing a lot, which Yusuke admitted
would be interesting but perhaps not the best for a first pass at this.  She
didn't delete that video, but didn't watch it either.  Finally, they had
managed to get a solid recording of her playing a computer game with Akira.
 Haru and Makoto had gone through the footage and cut a 25 minute portion where
Futaba evidently didn't seem to even realize she was being filmed.  Now, she
had the USB drive with the video plugged into her computer, a box of tissues by
her desk, and Akira chilling in the living room of Sojiro's house just in case
she had another panic attack. All of her bases were covered.  All that remained
was to watch the video.
 
Her chest ached already.  A part of her wished she had asked Haru and Makoto to
describe how she looked.  Or had asked Ann for her professional opinion from
their many shopping trips.  It was scary; her mind could easily rip whatever
she saw to shreds at a moment's glance and she would have absolutely no points
of reference with which to counteract the viscous negative thoughts.  It was
hard to even imagine this going well.
 
Still, she couldn't just give up.  Futaba took a deep breath, released it
slowly, then clicked play.
 
The film cut in to a scene of Futaba, naked as the day she was born, slumped
down in her chair, game controller firmly in her hands.  She felt her bottom
lip start to quiver.  How could anyone possibly love that?  Her posture was
terrible.  Shoulder's hunched tense around her scrunched up neck, a pout firmly
on her face.  The video version of her's legs were rim rod straight, balanced
on the foot rest under her desk.  The angle of her slump made her stomach press
into little rolls that her boobs could almost touch because of how caved in her
torso was compared to her waist.  Her pubic hairs looked way dark in the image
on her screen, untrimmed and completely unsexy.  What sane human being would
ever find her attractive? Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes and she
squeezed them shut, rotating her chair away from the screen.  She couldn't do
this.
 
Shaking, she pressed her palms against her eyes.  God, she had been so freaking
stupid.  One dark, twisted train of thought whispered that Makoto and Haru had
done this on purpose.  They thought she was gross, that she deserved to suffer.
 No, she reasoned.  No matter how down in the dumps she got about herself, she
couldn't convince herself those girls, who had always put so much time and
energy into helping her whenever she asked, would do anything to hurt her.
 They wouldn't lie to her.  But, then, why had they said this part was fine?
 How could that mess be considered fine?  She sniffled.
 
"Oh shit!  Crap crap crap!  Akira, move!"
 
She froze, blinking.  The video had sound?  Slowly, she turned her gaze back to
her computer screen.  Video Futaba had sprung up, legs now curled underneath
her and bottom lip caught firmly between her teeth.  Her back was as straight
as a board and her eyes, even through the slight gleam from the screen on her
glasses, were hyper focused on the game.  This position made her breasts stick
out, she thought.  They looked perkier like this, more cone-like and less
round.  Still, she could admit that they didn't look nearly as weird as they
did in the last position.  Still not good, but less bad.  The image once again
started to blur with frustrated tears when something in the game cause her
video self to cry out excitedly, wiggling her hips excitedly.  Futaba couldn't
help but scoff a bit.  She looked like a weird mix between a dolphin and a
snake when she did that.  The lines of her stomach rolled so easily with the
movement of her hips though.  Almost like water.  No belly dancer would ever
commend her for it, but it was pretty interesting to watch.  The gyrating made
her breasts bounce a bit.  She found herself watching in some amount of
fascination at the way her nipples seemed to never follow the same path twice,
even though her side to side motion didn't seem to differ much.  Weird.
 
Then, they must have beat the boss they were fighting, because her film
representation leaped from her chair with a joyous cry.  Her celebratory dance
gave her a perfect view of her own butt for a moment.  She had always pictured
it as being flat, but looking at it now, it wasn't quite an accurate
description.  Her ass wasn't huge, but compared to the size of her hips and
thighs it was actually decently shaped.  There was a definite curve there,
which jiggled as she hopped about.  Two little dimples existed just above the
curve of her ass, which she had actually never noticed before.  When the Futaba
on the tape turned around to face her computer again, she gazed at all the
places she was critical of earlier.  It was quite thought provoking, really.
 When she was just seeing them as parts of her body, she didn't like them.
 But, as she looked at the grinning young woman before her, the full image
was...fine.  None of the body parts seemed out of place or unfit.  Everything
was...proportional, if nothing else.  Her boobs were kinda small, but honestly,
she was kinda small too.  Futaba couldn't yet say that she liked what she saw.
 However, she could also no longer say she hated it.  Because there were parts
that she didn't mind looking at.  And the parts that looked odd in one
positioning of her body often looked much better in another.
 
"Oh man.  I wish I were over there so I could kiss that smug grin right off
your handsome face.  You prick."
 
Futaba's eyes widened a bit.  How many times had she gazed upon Akira's face as
he flirted with her?  She could picture almost perfectly how his gray eyes
darkened playfully, the curve of his lips when he smirked, how the blood would
gather in his cheeks and the tips of his ears when he blushed.  Every part of
Akira flirting with her was burning into her memory like a brand.  But her
flirting with Akira?  She'd never seen that before.  She wasn't a waterfall of
pure sex appeal like Akira, that was for sure.  But, some things caught her
eye.  She had her nose tipped up, just a little bit, and it made the smile on
her face seem so much cockier that it almost made her laugh.  She was balancing
her weight on her elbows, propped up on the desk.  Her chin rested on one hand,
whereas the other drew aimless circles on the desk.  The flush on her cheeks
didn't stop on her face, traveling down her neck to the top of her chest as
well.  No wonder her whole body felt like it was burning up when she was
embarrassed.  The line of her spine was relaxed, almost like she was melting
towards the screen.  Futaba watched herself giggle at some response Akira made,
her lips stretching so hard into the smile she could feel her own cheeks burn.
 The brown eyes looked almost purple in this lighting, flickering back and
forth quickly, forming a clever response to throw back at Akira.  The best
part, though, was the way her eyes sparkled.  It made her own eyes start to
water once more, but not from disgust this time.
 
She had been so happy.  Even if you couldn't hear the jovial tone of voice,
even if you missed out on the flirtatious conversation, the elation she was
feeling in that moment was evident in most parts of her body.  The way her body
curled towards the screen, wanting to get closer to the source of her
amusement.  The way her hips and chest pressed out proudly despite her lack of
clothes, unconcerned for modesty in spite of her insecurities.  Her rosy cheeks
and twinkling eyes highlighting the carefree smile.  No, the image before her
was not perverse, nor did she find it conventionally attractive.  Yet, as she
watched herself converse with the love of her life, she couldn't deny that
there was something beautiful about this girl.
 
The screen eventually went black, the video reaching its end.  Had it truly
been 25 minutes?  Futaba's hand hovered over her mouse, tempted to replay the
video, if only the very ending part.  She then cast her eyes at the full length
mirror in her room.  Standing, she shrugged her shirt off, then undid her bra.
 She bent over to slide her sleep shorts and underwear down her legs before
finally straightening up and meeting her own eyes in the mirror.  This time,
she searched for traces of the girl from the video in herself.  It wasn't
completely easy.  Her red rimmed eyes and splotched face were almost enough to
call this whole thing off.  But, she didn't.  She gazed at the hips that were
slightly boxy, but that transitioned smoothly into the sides of her stomach.
 At her breasts, which were more than enough for her small hands to cup fully.
 Turning to the side, she found those two dimples right above her butt and ran
her fingers over them.  This body was the same as from the video.  All it was
missing was that sense of happiness.  Sighing to herself, she pulled her
clothes back on.  She wasn't going to find that happiness here, with just her
and her mirror.  The awful feeling was still in the pit of her stomach from the
time spent staring at her reflection.  Her problem wasn't solved per se.
 
But, she did feel a hundred times better.
 
Futaba's feet carried her down the hall and into the living room, where Akira
looked up from his book, eyes curious.  She shuffled towards him and crawled
carefully into his lap.  The churning of her tummy was soothed by the easy way
he shifted to accommodate her.  His lips pressed to her forehead for a moment,
before he returned to his reading.  He was letting her choose to talk about it
or not.
 
She felt Sojiro lingering near the kitchen, his anxiety palpable from her spot.
 She smiled a bit.  "I watched it."
 
"Yeah?"  Sojiro asked, as awkwardly as could be expected from him.  "And,
uh...how are you feeling?"
 
"A bit better.  I think I just need to get used to it.  But, it's not awful."
 
She felt Akira smile against her temple, nudging her with his nose a bit.
 Sojiro let out a relieved sigh.  "Well, that.  That's good.  Huh?"  He laughed
breathlessly.  "I'm sorry I can't help more with this, kiddo.  This is probably
more of a mom type of problem."
 
Futaba considered that for a moment, then shook her head.  "I don't think mom
would have known what to do either," she admitted.  "You're already helping a
lot, anyway.  Thanks, Dad."
 
When she stopped by the Guild the next day, she made a point of hugging the
ever loving hell out of Yusuke.  As confused as he pretended to be by the
'unusually and unnecessary physical affection', she knew her Inari was secretly
happy as well.  She spent the next month trying to be naked as often as she
could.  She went to the bathhouse near LeBlanc and even went to the spa a few
times with Ann, Makoto and Haru.  A girls' day, so they said.  Ann took her
shopping for nice underwear, which Haru paid for even though Futaba swore time
and time again it wasn't necessary.  Still, she was glad she went.  She and Ann
had both gasped when they saw this black and green lacy push up and bikini
panties combo on her.  That had been the first time she honestly used the word
"sexy" to describe herself.  Whenever she was back at Sojiro's at a reasonable
hour, she'd linger in her room naked and do any number of things: homework,
video games, hacking into the police academy website to get median accepted
test scores for Makoto.
 
Sometime at the end of August, she had just gotten out of the shower when she
caught her reflection in the mirror.  It didn't even cross her mind to be
worried when she dropped her towel to the ground.  She stared herself down for
a good few minutes, turning to inspect her backside, moving her wet hair aside
so she could properly look at her chest.  She kept waiting for that flood of
self doubt and disgust, but it never came.  Victorious, her first step was to
call Akira, reveling in the proud cadence of his voice as he praised her hard
work and diligence.  That night, she fell asleep in her bed without her clothes
on and discovered that she enjoyed the feeling of sheets against her bare skin.
 The next morning, she checked stare at your faults in the mirror and be naked
often off her list.
 
                                    ~x~x~x~
 
Akira had been dating Futaba for a year and a half before this whole promise
list thing started, so he liked to think he had a decently solid understanding
of her as a person.  She preferred being indoors to outdoors, loved video games
and cup ramen, could go from shy and quiet to in your face and loud in a
heartbeat, would do anything to help her friends (as long as she thought it was
her place to help or had been asked), curled into his body like her own
personal heating pad whenever they slept together, and was almost never the one
to instigate physical intimacy.  He knew that last trait was due to the
insecurities she was working through, and he wanted more than anything for her
to successfully overcome them.  So, he had zero problems taking the wheel on
their physical relationship.  It cost his absolutely nothing to kiss her first
or wrap her in a hug.  She was always very receptive, too.  One day, he had
hoped that she would be able to make those moves herself.  He was prepared to
settle in to wait it out until that time came.
 
What he wasn't prepared for was the drastic increase in confidence her efforts
thus far had produced.
 
While he was definitely aware of all the body positivity training Futaba had
been doing with the other girls, Akira was also aware that Futaba started
working on her list in late July.  It was just now the beginning of September.
 The young hacker was a genius, no doubt about that, but he knew the hard way
that opinions don't tend to change easily, let alone in less than two months.
 Especially not when they were remnants of your own cognitive distortions.
 Realistically, it would be another couple of months at least until any real
change popped up.
 
Futaba Sakura was not the kind of girl to be ruled by other people's
assumptions.
 
They had been invited to a party, hosted by Mishima.  Evidently, he had been
accepted into a very prestigious business and marketing internship and his
friends wanted to celebrate the occasion.  His friends were not exactly the
type of people Akira assumed Mishima would chill with in university.  They were
big drinkers, big talkers, but overall super sweet guys.  Thus, showing up to a
party where the booze was flowing and music was loud was not expected and
certainly not what he and Futaba had agreed to.  Quiet get together my ass,
Ryuji, he grumbled to himself.  The plan was to say hi to Mishima and then ask
Futaba if she wanted to leave.  By the time they tracked down Mishima, Akira
noticed that Futaba's eyes were much more eagerly scanning the house than the
crowd.  She was planning something.
 
"Hey, Phanboy!" Ryuji called, already half a beer in.
 
Mishima turned, grinning.  "Yo! So glad you all could make it!"
 
They exchanged hugs and Mishima introduced the former Thieves to a group of his
friends.  Akira noticed that Ryuji and Ann were huddled next to each other,
whispering back and forth while staring into the group of bodies on the "dance
floor", in the living room.  He made a mental note to ask Ryuji about it later.
 Before he could rejoin the conversation with Mishima, a triad of girls sidled
up next to him.
 
"Wow, we don't see guys like you every day," a young woman with dark brown hair
and red highlights cooed.
 
Another girl, dyed blond with an oversaturation of cherry red lipstick agreed,
"The guys we chill with are cool, but not nearly as nice to look at."
 
Akira barely withheld a sigh.  Instead, he smiled politely,  "I'm flattered,
really.  I'm just here to congratulate Mishima though."
 
The final girl, seemingly the ring leader of the group, shook her head.  "Well
now.  If a guy like boring old Yuuki could make nice with a catch like you,
maybe he's a bit more worth our time than I thought, huh, girls?"  The other
two giggled, leering at him sensually.
 
This had to be a joke.  Something out of one of Ann's romcom's.  He wasn't a
praying man, especially not after he literally landed a headshot on a God, but
if this was how girls at university could be, he prayed for the health and well
being of all poor unsuspecting single men.  "Um...look," he started, trying to
find a way to say 'get the hell away from me' without sound like a jerk.
 
"Hey, babe," a familiar voice called out to him, sliding under his arm so it
wrapped around her shoulders.  "Sorry, I got distracted by the alarmingly high
levels of testosterone over by the ping pong table.  Are you going to introduce
me to your friends?"  Akira blinked.  How was this woman and what had she done
with Futaba?  He noticed that their situation had been noticed by quite a few
people.  Not only was their entire friend group and Mishima now watching, but
so were the rowdy boys in the kitchen.
 
The Ring Leader quirked an eyebrow, unamused.  "Oh, sweety.  It's nice of you
to protect your friend and all, but no one in the right mind would believe that
you're his girlfriend.  Maybe pick a different lie to pull."
 
Well, Akira was officially pissed.  He opened his mouth to say something, but
was interrupted by Futaba's laugh.  "You're a hoot, really.  Alright, here,
hold on."  Futaba paused to dig through her purse.  When she found what she was
looking for, she held it out to the girls.  It was an American dime she had
gotten from her class trip to New York.  "Here.  This should cover you three
and nine more of your friends, you dime-a-dozen bimbos.  Oh wait, you probably
don't recognize the phrase.  English is a bit advanced for girls like you,
huh?"
 
The look on the girls' faces was absolutely priceless. Before they had a chance
to recover, Akira smirked and drawled gently to Futaba, "Now, now, darling.  No
need to tear them to shreds.  Isn't their fault they can't take a hint."  He
turned to the red faced Ring Leader.  "Sorry, I'm a bit occupied at the moment.
 As well as generally uninterested in what you have to offer.  Lovely meeting
you, ladies."  As he started to lead a grinning Futaba away, a loud commotion
of mocking and incredulous screams (at least one of them was surely Ryuji's
voice) followed them as they slipped out of the main room and up the stairs.
 He quickly yanked open the nearest door.  It was unoccupied.  Perfect.  He
tugged Futaba into the room and shut the door behind him, leaning on it.
 
There were a lot of things he wanted to say.  Ask her how she was feeling, if
she wanted to leave, even commend her on her general savagery.  He didn't have
time to say any of those before Futaba's body tackled his own against the door
and pulled his lips down to hers hungrily.  Anything he could have said
disappeared, as did every single thought exempt how marvelously her lips felt
against his and how hot for her he was.
 
"Those girls wanted you," she broke away to gasp, not fighting him in the least
when he pulled her back in for another scorching kiss.  They broke for air once
more.  "They wanted you all to themselves.  But you know what?  They can't have
you."  Akira swallowed heavily, panting. Futaba kissed a path up his neck and
nibbled on his earlobe. She whispered fiercely right into his ear, "Cuz you're
mine."
 
Oh god, he had never been so hard in his freaking life.
 
With a desperate whine, Akira drew Futaba's mouth back to his own.  Their
mouths opened immediately, deepening their kiss, tongues seeking each other
out.  Heady groans, grunts, and their hurried breathing filled the room, loud
despite the blasting music from downstairs.  Akira could barely even tell there
was music.  His mind was so pin point focused on Futaba it was making his head
spin. The girl pulled off of him and immediately grabbed at his shirt, lifting
it up and around his armpits.  "Off," she hissed.  He could only obey.  Once
the fabric had hit the floor, Futaba's hands made great strides examining the
newly revealed skin.  Her hands wandered his abs, nails dragged just enough to
sting up his back, and two deft fingers rolled one of his nipples between them,
forcing a needy moan from him.  He could taste the girl's self-satisfied smirk.
 
She turned her attention to his neck, biting down hard and sucking.  His hands
tightened around her waist and he panted, unable to deny her the pleasure of
giving him a hickey.  The redhead's nips and licks wandered south, to his
collarbone.  Akira had never considered his nipples to be particularly
sensitive, but when Futaba's clever mouth wrapped itself one, teasing it with
her tongue, he swore he almost came right then and there.  Luckily, or
unlikely, his phone lit up, ringtone blaring, before they could get any
further.  They pulled away, each panting heavily.  Akira rose his phone to his
mouth and didn't even pretend to hide how wrecked he sounded, "Yeah?"
 
"Holy shit dude," Ryuji must have pulled away from the phone to say 'I told you
they were necking somewhere' to someone, though he really didn't care who.
 "Anyway, we were about to get the hell out of here.  You two coming with
or...?"
 
Futaba nodded, handing him his shirt.  She ran her fingers through her hair
once or twice, though the effort to look presentable would doubtfully be
effective.
 
"Yeah.  Meet you out by the street."
 
It was probably a sight to behold, the two of them walking down the stairs,
hands linked and obviously well kissed and satisfied.  The amused grin on
Futaba's face was gorgeous and he suddenly mourned the fact that she was taking
the train directly to Sojiro's after this.  Akira made eye contact with the
girls from earlier as they headed towards the door, who were every combination
of shocked, disgusted and pissed off.  He waved and smiled pleasantly, feigning
innocence.  As they made their way to their friends, Ryuji gleefully threw an
arm around Akira's shoulder.  Ann made a point of high-fiving Futaba while Haru
giggled.  It wasn't until they were a block down the street that Yusuke
serenely observed, "Akira, your shirt is on backwards."  When Futaba got home
that evening, she proudly informed him that both see the boyfriend shirtless
and make out with shirtless Akira were checked off of that list of hers.
 
Following their tryst, Akira found that Futaba's spike in confidence wasn't
just a one time thing.  Whether they were in public, on the living room couch,
or just in The Den, Futaba started delivering a healthy dose of kisses, hugs
and cuddles his way.  Though, they hadn't had any encounters of the same
desperation level and neither got around to disrobing again for awhile.  Still
though, that was perhaps the least important thing he could think of.  Futaba
was transforming, yet again, way faster than he ever anticipated could happen.
 There was still air of easy to so many things she did now, both with him and
even when hanging out with Ann.  He knew there was still plenty of work to be
done, but over all, he was plenty impressed with her improvement.
 
Though, he wasn't the only one that had noticed.
 
                                                               From: Coffee Dad
                                                                               
     If I find a single hickey on my little girl's neck, so help me God, I will
                                                                    disown you.
                                                                               
                                                                 To: Coffee Dad
                                                                               
                                                    Wouldn't dream of it, Boss.
                                                                               
                                                               From: Coffee Dad
                                                                               
             Good.  You and Futaba should come have dinner at LeBlanc tomorrow.
                                                                               
                                                                From: Best Girl
                                                                               
             I think the old man is lonely.  Should we be good little children?
                                                                               
                                                                 To: Coffee Dad
                                                                               
                                                                We'll be there.
 
Well, at least some things wouldn't change.
 
                                    ~x~x~x~
 
Futaba could admit to herself that seeing Akira shirtless hadn't been much of a
step. Their beach trips and several instances of Ryuji and Akira getting too
sweaty during this past summer had made the experience of Akira's bare chest
not entirely unique. Still, touching his bare chest had definitely been a plus
and would be something should would hopefully get to repeat very soon.
 
Still, the next obvious step would surely be her being the shirtless one. It
shouldn't be that difficult, she reasoned. It was just like the beach only no
bikini top. And hey, she hated bras and bikini tops anyway, so in theory, this
would be awesome. Only snag in that line of logic was her incredible discomfort
concerning her breast size...
 
And boy would that suck. Having a panic attack born of self-hatred would
definitely kill the mood. She ran the idea through her head dozens of different
ways, looking for some way to minimize any and all intrusive thoughts. Sadly,
all simulations came to the same conclusion: she wouldn't know if she'd be
bothered or not until she was in the situation. She turned her attention from
her laptop to Akira, curled up in the Nest reading a book.
 
No time like the present, right?
 
"Is...Ryuji gonna be back soon?"
 
"Don't think so. He said he and Ann were going on another scouting mission.
Whatever that means."
 
"I see." Most of her checklist items so far had been personal challenges.
Asking Akira to partake wasn't something she'd gotten around to planning out
yet. As it was, him taking his shirt off had been very... opportunistic. Spur
of the moment. She reasoned that this challenge needn't involve much fanfare
either. The less attention the less chance of freaking out, right?
 
Futaba spent a couple moments observing Akira, still grossly invested in his
new mystery thriller novel. Now or never, she figured. Hooking her arms under
the T-shirt she was wearing, she slowly pulled it up and over her head. She
lowered the shirt to the bed, casting another glance at her boyfriend. No
reaction. Either he hadn't noticed or he was really good at maintaining a
neutral face with a half naked girl in the room.
 
Or he just wasn't interested in such a flat chest...
 
She shook her head. No. None of that. She wasn't going to let a couple
intrusive thoughts ruin this for her. Taking a deep breath, she reached behind
herself to unclasp her bra, letting it slowly slide down her shoulders. The
relief was almost godlike. How did women with large breasts deal with
imprisoning them in these horrid death traps? She'd have to ask Ann and Haru
sometime. Once again, her eyes turned to Akira. Still nothing. Her mouth
quirked into a point. Damnit, here she was being brave as hell and her dumb
boyfriend only wanted to read. She considered chucking her bra at him. That
would get his attention.
 
It would also be a pretty unsexy method of acquiring said attention. Hmm.
 
Her eyes traveled to the door, and she quickly realized it wasn't locked. And
she was bare breasted in Akira's bed. In the somewhat unlikely event Ryuji did
come home soon...
 
Oh, wait. Maybe this would be the perfect opportunity. She placed her laptop
down on the mattress, and then arranged herself lying along the bed with her
elbow propping up her torso. This way, Akira would have a perfect view of
her...assets and she could still pass off nonchalance. Not to toot her own
horn, but man, she was a genius.
 
"Hey, Akira?"
 
"Hmm?"
 
"Would you mind locking the door?"
 
Finally, the bastard looked up from his book. His eyes scanned the door, as if
it would reveal to him the reason she had asked. She withheld a sigh. Stay on
target. "Um. I can, I guess." He dog-eared the page he was on and sat up,
turning to her, "Is there a reason as to wh-....wha..."
 
Yessss.
 
His gray eyes widened comically. A scarlet blush spread over his cheeks and the
tips of his ears. Akira Kurusu, charismatic and stylish leader of the Phantom
Thieves of Hearts, was flustered and it was all her doing. Usually, it was
Akira pulling charming stunts to make her blush, laugh or smile. She had to
admit, the power was a real turn on. And confidence booster.
 
Futaba: 1
Stupid voice in her head: 0
 
"I'm pretty sure you've answered your own question, huh, hot stuff?"
 
Akira nodded, lips curling into a bashful smile. "Y-yeah." Still, he got up to
fulfill her wish, locking the door, then turning back to her, unsure. "Checking
items of the list I see?"
 
"Yep!"
 
He smiled, warm and genuine. "That's good. How's it feel?"
 
Futaba closed her laptop, fidgeting a bit. "It's difficult sometimes. But it's
not like I didn't know it would be. I think it's going well...?"
 
Akira nodded, hand coming up to twirl his fringe. He was nervous. Well, that
made two of them. "Am I meant to participate actively or passively in this
challenge?"
 
"Oh." She hadn't considered that. Originally her plan was just to be shirtless.
She supposed she could tackle makeout with Akira while shirtless too.  The idea
of him touching her as well was...
 
Well nice was an understatement. But so was terrifying.
 
"Honestly, I didn't think about that part in detail yet." She forced herself
not to roll over onto her front. Hiding would defeat the entire purpose. "I am
certainly not opposed to trying. I just don't know...if it would...work?"
 
"Think you might get overwhelmed?"
 
"Yeah" she confirmed. Again, she was confronted by just how annoying it was
that she couldn't do this as easily as other girls. Getting naked in front of a
complete stranger would have been one thing. But this was Akira. If she
couldn't trust herself with him...
 
No. She was working on it. This was physical proof she was working on it. She
squeezed her eyes, hoping to wish away the thoughts.
 
Akira watched her struggling. Honestly, he was shocked she'd even gotten this
far without freaking the hell out even once. Whether it was mostly in hopes of
flustering him or to prove to herself she could, Akira didn't care why Futaba
had endeavored to pull this off, but was immensely proud of her courage. And he
wasn't going to let that fizzle out now.
 
"Hey," Futaba's eyes slid open again and met his. "You're mostly naked in a
room with a guy you like. If that's not progress, I don't know what is. If you
want to call it quits here and get dressed, that's totally fine. If you want me
to pretend I didn't just see the most beautiful sight of my life, I'll pretend
to go back to reading and you can do whatever you want, clothed or otherwise."
She notably squeaked at that, flushing adorably. He smiled, continuing, "And,
if you want me to come over there, I can do that too. You're the boss."
 
Futaba bit her bottom lip, smiling despite her embarrassment. God, why did he
have to be such a flirt all the time? A sweet flirt, though. The absolute
sweetest. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, observing his open
expression and kind smile. She took a finger and crooked it at him, mouth half
quirked into a smile. "Come here, you mushy goofball. I'm a tangle of nerves
right now, but you might as well sit with me even if we don't do anything."
 
Akira's bright smile reminded her of an excited puppy. "Yes ma'am."
 
As much as this process had been grating on her nerves, there were several
parts that made it very much worth the emotional fraying.  Akira's boundless
enthusiasm and patience were the most gratifying part that she could think of
thus far.  Geez.  The boy looked like it was a privilege to even sit next to
her, which was ridiculous because as far as she could tell, she was the one
being blessed with his understanding, time and kindness.  Even more amazing,
she didn't once question that he was just as content to help as he said.  When
they'd first met, Futaba had considered Akira to be an unstoppable force of
nature.  In her mind, she was only the benefactor to his attention because she
fell into his way, not because he was some altruist that set out to save
everyone.  And honestly, that was probably true.  But much like her, the moment
Akira considered you a friend, an ally, he would protect you with all his
might. And now, a month shy of two years later, she had somehow manage to
maintain her position as the person he chose to stand by indefinitely.  How on
Earth had that happened?
 
And yet, even with such endless love for him overflowing from her, her body
still seized up when he cupped her cheek.  Damn her weakness.  Akira cut off
her thoughts before they even began, "Let's think of a good way to easy you
into this.  Get you to relax."
 
What did normal people do that involved being naked but not being overwhelmed
by the fact of their nudity?  Baths sure, but she was no where near ready for
that one.  Spas, she guessed, but that was too similar to the bath idea.
 Maybe...
 
"Oh," Futaba uttered, "A massage might work."
 
Akira blinked.  His voice sounded like he was trying not to laugh, "Man, you're
thinking of ways to get every luxury possible out of this list huh?"
 
"Wah?! N-no!  I just-"
 
The dark haired boy shook his head, amused. "Kidding!  I was just kidding.
 Yeah, I'll massage your back.  Fair warning: I have no idea what I'm doing."
 
"Well," her returned smile was sheepish at best, "I have no idea what to expect
so I'm fairly certain it will be impossible to disappoint me."
 
That wasn't entirely true.  As she laid down on the bed with her hair tucked
away from her neck, she acknowledged that she did have some idea of what this
might be like.  Not a single person on their jolly thieving team could say that
they hadn't had some sort of fantasies about Joker's hands.  Ryuji was
convinced it was the gloves.  Ann thought it was just how large his hands were.
 Yusuke argued it was how often he had played with said gloves, which Makoto
had agreed with.  Of course, it was Morgana who piped in saying that if they
weren't impressed by how dexterous and gifted those hands were, they were all
idiots.  There may have been several wet dreams after that talk.
 
So, she did have some amount of expectation that this was going to birth
several weeks worth of day dreams about Akira's hands, but that was honestly
regardless of massage quality and somewhat embarrassing so she shut her mouth.
 Akira grabbed Ryuji's fancy lotion off the dresser and applied a bit to his
hands, then came back to the bed to crouch with his legs on either side of her
hips.  A flash of heat ran through her at the thought of Akira's pelvis so
close to her rump.  New goal: get a massage from Akira without spontaneously
combusting.
 
"Ready?"
 
"Aye aye," she chirped.
 
Her first thought was that his hands were so warm. He started near her
shoulders, kneading them gently, thumbs digging into her neck.  The tension in
her spine leeched out at every sharp press of his palms and she couldn't
restrain the blissful sigh.  She heard Akira chuckle as his firm touch wandered
down her back.  He assaulted every knot he found with the same level of
determination and skill that he showed while hunting shadows in Mementos.  He
used all the tools he had available to wipe them out: knuckles, palms, fingers,
even his elbow for one particularly stubborn one.  Sometimes it hurt, but
mostly it just felt fantastic. The relief of having her tension released along
with the warmth of his body so close to hers could have lulled her to sleep if
she let it.  The feeling wasn't at all clinical and after awhile it even
stopped being vaguely sexual.  It was just...intimate.  All warmth and comfort,
with a bit of sleepiness thrown in.
 
She wasn't sure how long had gone by, but at some point Akira leaned forward to
press a kiss to her neck.  The proof that he was affected by their physical
closeness made itself known against her hip when he leaned in, but the press of
his bulge against her didn't illicit any surge of emotion, nor detract from her
comfort.  Futaba opened her eyes and looked back at him.  "Thank you, Akira.
 That was, like, the most relaxing thing ever."
 
Another kiss and a sweet smile served as her response.  "You're welcome."
 Akira let himself flop sideways, lying beside her.  Wrapped up in the bubble
of pleasant contentment, she felt no hesitation in rolling over on her side and
placing one of his hands on her bare hip.  Akira's eyes met hers, seeking out
any signs of doubt or anxiety.  Yet, there was none of that this time.  She
leaned forward to plan a kiss on his lips, smiling sleepily.  Akira's hands
trailed over her side gently, almost reverently, as if treasuring the
experience. All those quips about his hands paled in comparison to the real
thing, which carefully cupped her breast.  Futaba was surprised to find that
her tit, which she had always thought of as pitifully small, was just large
enough to fill his palm. Akira rolled the fleshy mound around in his grip, as
if testing its weight.  He seemed thoroughly engaged in his examination.
 Amused, the young woman asked, "Your verdict, Mr. Kurusu?"
 
His gray eyes flitted back to her own and the dorkiest smile she'd ever seen
formed on his lips.  "It's so soft," he marveled.  She couldn't help but grin
in return.
 
"Is this your fist time handling a boob?" she asked, still blushing profusely
from both the warmth of his hand on her and the silliness of her own question.
 
Akira chuckled, "You mean other than Ryuji?" Futaba couldn't help but snicker
at that. "Yeah, actually it is."  At her questioning look, her partner shifted
a bit, still massaging the flesh in his hand.  "In junior high, I kissed a
couple people.  Made out with one or two behind the baseball team's equipment
locker.  But I was a bit too shy for anything else.  And the more I explored, I
realized that most of the people I ended up having crushes on were
coincidentally guys."
 
"Woah, really?  I've literally never heard this before."
 
"Mhm.  I don't really think I have a preference between genders, at this point.
 Back then, I wasn't picky.  I'd kiss just about anyone.  Now, the most
important thing to me is whether I'm comfortable around the person or not.
 Made everything a bit weird honestly, I was kinda terrible at making friends
because I kept developing crushes on all of them.  I was also the 'troubled boy
with no mother to set him straight' so the few relations I did have were
temporary by nature.  I usually only ended up getting with the transfer
students, because no one else would look my way.  That was a fun reputation on
its own."
 
Futaba stroked a hand through his hair, smile half amused and half sad.  "Oh
boy.  Local bad boy sets out to smooch all transfer students, becomes transfer
student himself.  Confusion ensues.  More at 8."
 
Nuzzling his head into her touch, Akira snickered.  "Yep.  Exactly so.  So,
coming back to your question, yes, this is my first experience with boobs.  And
I gotta say, I see the appeal."
 
Drawing on the well of bravery she'd fallen into today, Futaba's hands came
down to tug at Akira's shirt.  "Here. This off, yes? You can keep exploring the
human secondary sex system, but I wanna cuddle."
 
He let out a low whistle, but complied, flinging his shirt over onto the
beanbag.  "You're really demolishing this list today, huh?"  
 
"Hell yeah.  I'm on a grinding spree today.  EXP farming has never felt so
good."  Check be shirtless together with Akira and cuddle with Akira while we
are shirtless off that list too.
 
Akira shuffled closer, gathering Futaba in his arms and pressing them together
in a hug.  They both sighed in tandem, then giggled a bit.  The feel of soft,
pliant of the girl's skin against the hard planes of a boy's chest was
intriguing and invariably satisfying.  As they shifted, Futaba's breasts ran
down the line of Akira's pectorals, sending shivers down his spine. The hacker
loved the way snuggling against the firm, warm chest made her feel safe,
protected.  Akira found the warm, silky-smooth skin comforting, like falling
asleep in the sun, like coming home to the smell of coffee.  The couple
snuggled into each other serenely, trading caresses and kisses.
 
Neither was sure how long they laid in each others arms like that.  Eventually,
though, Futaba's hands stopped scratching at Akira's shoulders.  She met his
eyes.  "Can I ask you a serious question?"
 
Akira glanced at her dubiously.  "Sure."
 
She grinned.  "When you first moved here, did you have a crush on Ryuji?"  The
horrified stare she got was all the answer she need.  She let out a long,
excited squeal, "Oh my god!  You did, didn't you?!  Aww, that's so cute,
Akira."
 
The poor boy could only flop back and cover his face.  "Please.  Spare me.  I
have done nothing to deserve this."
 
Futaba collapsed on his chest, cuddling up to his neck.  "Relax, babe, your big
gay secret is safe with me. I have to ask though, what did you see in that
boy?"
 
The pout she got was the most petulant thing she had ever seen.  "He dragged me
out to eat at all his favorite places within weeks of knowing me, defended me
in front of teachers, other students, even Makoto, and then pulled this whole
speech about how 'his place was right where I was'.  How the hell was I
supposed to resist that? I'm only human, Futaba."
 
"Damn, son.  Not to be that girl or anything, but how did that crush,
uh...resolve itself?"
 
Akira quickly sprang out of his pouting formation to wrap her in a hug, bare
chests squished together once more.  He nuzzled contently into her hair as she
giggled and play fought him.  "Oh, you know.  Got a text from this weirdo one
day.  Turns out, she's this Egyptian Goddess who just so happens to be
beautiful, kind, excitable, cunning, mischievous, and the legitimately smartest
person I've ever met.  Anyway, she asked me to steal her heart and between
constantly saving my sorry ass and hacking the all of Tokyo city, she
accidentally stole mine.  Oops."  Futaba laid in his arms, eyes twinkling in
fondness and amusement.  Akira's tone altered to something a bit more serious,
but still soft.  "Might have had a crush on Ryuji, but by the time November
rolled around I was already in love with you.  Poor kid never stood a chance,
my Pharaoh."  He leaned down to kiss her.
 
Futaba smiled into their kiss, playful tone picking back up.  "Wow.  Be still
my beating heart.  Still, I'm a bit shocked that Ryuji has a bit of game, after
all.  Too bad for him he seems to only use it on people he intends to
ruthlessly shove into the friend zone."
 
"What other poor idiot did he manage to grab?"
 
"Ann."
 
"What?  No.  Don't you dare screw with me.  Are you serious?"
 
"What do you think has been going on for the last few months?  They've been
playing wingman for each other, convinced that the other person couldn't
possibly like them, while the person being set up fails miserably at dating
because they'd rather date their wingman.  It's been kinda ridiculous really."
 
Akira let his head fall back against the pillow.  "Holy hell."
 
"Mmmhmm"
 
"...I should start writing my best man speech."
 
Futaba burst out laughing.  "That's what you're worried about?"
 
"I mean, they're both pretty dumb, but Ann will probably get tired of this at
some point and just jump him. I just can't believe I hadn't noticed this before
now.  I'm an awful leader."
 
"Too busy reading books and making out with your Goddess of a girlfriend, I
guess."
 
"Can you blame me?"
 
They sat in silence for awhile, just enjoying their mutual embrace.  Futaba was
almost asleep when Akira voiced a question.  "So, do you think this is
something you would be comfortable with doing more often?"
 
"Shirtless cuddle sessions where we gossip like old women about our friends?"
 
A chuckle.  "Let's leave that last part as being optional, but yes."
 
Futaba sat up a bit, nodding, and planted a firm kiss to his lips.  "Yeah,
sounds good.  Exposure therapy, yeah?"  Akira nodded.  "Cool.  That being said,
I should probably take off now. Have some homework to get done."
 
The amount of progress done in that one evening was enough to keep Futaba in a
good mood all week.  In the blocks of time where Ryuji was out and they didn't
feel like doing anything of merit outside of the Guild, the couple made a habit
of curling up together shirtless in the Nest, typically under the large blue
comforter to keep warm.  Usually, Akira would read and Futaba would fool around
on her phone.  Sometimes, if they were particularly worn out that day, they
would nap.  They often would set that time aside for lengthy make out sessions,
which Futaba decided were infinitely better with both parties shirtless.
 
She mused to herself one day, head contently pillowed on Akira's chest while he
dozed, that she was just about half way through her list and it had only been
five months.  If things kept progressing this way, by her 18th birthday in
March, she and Akira would be the proud owners of each other's V cards.  Akira
let out a loud snore, shocking her from her thoughts.  She withheld a laugh,
snuggling in closer.  Honestly, though, she wasn't going to rush.  She had
never been this comfortable around another human being.  Sex sounded awesome.
 For now though?  Cuddles were good.
 
Chapter End Notes
     So the smut fest begins.
     Firstly, there is going to be two more chapters. That is where the
     brunt of the sexual in nature checklist items will be discussed.
     There still will be plenty of cute and fluffy parts, but yeah, if sex
     scenes aren't your thing, I'm sorry!
     Second, my biggest hope for this was to show Futaba's progression
     through getting comfortable with her own body and sexuality, other
     people's bodies and sexualities, and finally, feeling safe
     participating in a sexual relationship with someone she trusts. I
     acknowledge that not all relationships need to be sexual to be
     functioning, healthy, etc. It's simply my personal headcanon that
     Futaba would want to have this sort of relationship with someone and
     given her past, there would be difficulties getting there.
     Lastly, as you may have noticed, I've been sneaking some Ryuji x Ann
     references in here. There will be more next chapter of this fic as
     well. The plan for the next Tales from the Thieves' Guild chapter is
     to fill in the gaps of these isolated events in the lives of Ryuji
     and Ann.
     Hope you all enjoyed it. Please leave me critiques, comments, or
     questions in the comments. I love hearing from you guys!
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Two years ago, the span of time between November and December had
     been hellish. Last year, the group had been separate, still
     recovering in their own ways. The Thieves, Akira and Futaba
     especially, hoped that they would finally be able to enjoy this
     period. Life, as always, looks to make things difficult.
Chapter Notes
     First, thank you all for the wonderful comments last chapter. Really
     made all the difference in getting me to sit down and write. That
     being said, this chapter is not at all what I thought it would be.
     What was supposed to be around 6k words of mostly smut with a little
     fluff is now 13k of plot with a bit of smut. How the tables have
     turned! So since this has gotten so long, I'm splitting it
     up...again. One more chapter, y'all! I promise!
     For your reference: italics is past conversations or thoughts. Bold
     is checklist items. ~~~ means time skip in same "event". ~x~x~ means
     new event has started.
     Enjoy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The month of November was cursed.
 
Two Novembers ago, Akira had been beaten, arrested, drugged, and nearly
murdered.  Last November, they had both been stressed over school and trapped
five and a half hours by train apart. This time, it seemed like the entire
world was on the verge of burning down.  Which, compared to the world status of
two years ago, was pretty darn impressive.  Bad things may not always come in
threes, as the proverb implies, but in this case, they certainly managed to
come in clumps.  The first of the month greeted them with the director of
Yusuke's art firm filing for bankruptcy and laying off half of the office
workers and clients, including Yusuke himself.  Before the devastated artist
had even managed to emerge from his room for them to comfort him, the hospital
called Makoto at 3 AM to inform her that her sister had been assaulted working
on a case and was in ICU.  Even their strong as steel Queen couldn't withstand
a hit like that and with a heavy heart she gave up her spot in the testing
center for the police academy admissions exam, feeling that she would simply
not have enough time or energy to take it seriously.  She spent most of her
nights for the next two weeks in a chair in the corner of Sae's room, only
eating due to Haru's diligent care and frequent visits.  As if that wasn't
enough, in all the stress of trying to support both Yusuke and Makoto
effectively, Ann and Ryuji had broken out into a shockingly aggressive fight.
 The details of this argument, Futaba was never made privy to, but from
Morgana's sparse understanding, the issue was related to a recent date Ann had
been on.  The tension in the Guild was almost tangible after that, with both
parties trying their absolute best to avoid each other while still trying to be
supportive friends.  Hint: it didn't work very well.
 
The whole of that mess had broken out over the course of only 6 days.  When it
had been quiet for the last two, Futaba had foolishly let herself think
everything was over.  That was until Dr. Takemi sent her an email warning her
that Sojiro's cholesterol levels were dangerously high.  She recommended a
specific diet and medication, but apparently Sojiro hadn't been taking her
advice.  Needless to say, Futaba and Akira were both livid and marched down to
LeBlanc immediately to set their dumbass father straight.  He kept shutting
them up until they closed up shop for the night.
 
The conversation hadn't gone well.
 
"Why won't you just listen to her?  She's a goddamn doctor, Sojiro!"
 
"I feel fine, Futaba.  It was a yearly checkup for God's sake!  I've taken care
of myself my entire life, I don't need some number on a piece of paper telling
me to switch my entire life around!"
 
"That number is the reason you go get the yearly checkup," Akira reminded him,
voice steady and calm despite the emotionally charged situation.  She envied
his ability to reel in his feelings like that, since she knew he was just as
worried as she was.  "It's to check what you need to be careful about in the
upcoming year.  That number could mean you're months away from something bad
happening if we don't do something."
 
"Fine, let those months come then.  I don't care."
 
Futaba's face grew pale.  "Sojiro!  What the hell?!  You do NOT mean that."
 
The older man sighed through his nose.  "Futaba, you're a kid.  Doctors say
shit like this to anyone over age 50.  I don't have any of the problems most
guys my age do.  It's just a load of crap they use to get you on more meds."
 
"Then have the blood tests repeated by a different doctor," Akira challenged.
 "If they don't tell you the exact same thing, fine.  But do you really want to
take a risk based on a very vague comparison with other people?"
 
"Yeah!" Futaba asserted, still very shaken.  "There are plenty of conditions
that don't have treatable symptoms too!  Self evaluations aren't reliable."
 
Sojiro slammed a fist on the bar, voice raising, "That's enough!  This is my
business, damnit.  I don't remember inviting you two or your opinions into it.
 I'm not some senile old man you guys need to coddle.  Worry about your own
damn lives."
 
"Why the hell won't you listen to us, Sojiro?!  We're your family!  We aren't
coddling you, we're trying to help you."
 
"Futaba..." Akira's attempt to sooth her was quickly brushed off.
 
She shook her head, "No!  What the hell happens if you have a heart attack,
huh?  Or a stroke?  And you die or go brain dead or lose your ability to move
your body?  Huh?!?  What then?  We'd really have to take care of you after
something like that!  Assuming you lived.  Would you want us to have to live
with it if you died?  Over being too prideful to take a stupid pill every
morning?"
 
The young woman stared her adoptive father down for awhile, panting heavily.
 Her whole body was trembling from how angry she was.  Sojiro started at the
bar, frowning, but said nothing.  Akira shuffled closer, running a hand over
her back.  While she appreciated the gesture, it wouldn't help.  "I need to go
take a walk," she declared, storming out of the shop.
 
She stomped to the end of the alley, kicking rocks and pulling at her hair.  A
moment's pause with no familiar bell ring told her that Akira wasn't planning
on following her.  He'd probably try to reason with Sojiro himself, without her
frantic ass there to rile the older man up.  Part of her wanted to resent him
for that.  Sojiro was HER adoptive father; why was it that he would listen to
Akira nine times out of ten before he would listen to her?  Futaba continued
her restless walk.  As much as she hated to admit it though, she and Sojiro
were both prideful as hell.  If they were worked up about something, they'd
stick to their guns until they had a chance to cool down and come to the other
person or people's conclusion themselves.  In that way, she supposed Sojiro
must not have been as unfazed by the report as he let on.  The perfect balm to
her crazy freakouts had always been Akira's air of calm and well thought out
words.  It must have been the same for Sojiro, she guessed.
 
She wandered the streets of Yongen-Jaya for another fifteen minutes before she
felt worn down enough to head back to LeBlanc.  When she pushed the door open,
Sojiro had relocated to the back-most booth, a tall glass of ice water in his
hands.  Not coffee.  Huh.  Akira was washing up the last of the dishes in the
sink and cast a look over his shoulder at her that clearly said Well?  You
gonna talk it out or what?
 
Futaba slid herself into the seat across from Sojiro and was surprised to see
his eyes were slightly red-rimmed.  She settled for quietly observing him until
the older man sighed heavily and muttered petulantly, "Decaf coffee tastes like
shit.  It's barely even coffee.  So if I'm limiting sugar and caffeine, I'm
drinking water, not that fake bullshit."
 
Heaving out a relieved sigh, she nodded, "Yeah.  That sounds good."
 
They didn't talk that much, but Sojiro agreed to go to see Dr. Takemi tomorrow
to get a prescription and a tentative diet plan.  That was honestly all Futaba
could have asked for.  They all closed up shop together and walked back to the
house.  Sojiro extended the offer to stay to Akira, but he refused.
 
"I'm gonna go bring the last of the curry to the girls.  Somebody has to take
care of Haru while she's busy taking care of Makoto."
 
Sojiro had simply nodded and retired immediately to bed.  As she wished Akira
goodnight, she inquired what he had said to make Sojiro so damn docile.  He had
merely smiled and promised he'd tell her later.  She spent the greater part of
that night researching cholesterol medications.  Before she slumped to bed, she
happened to glance at her calendar.  November 10th was next Saturday.  She
smiled to herself a bit.  The anniversary of the day when she and Akira had
truly affirmed their relationship.  
 
Technically, Akira had confessed to Futaba back in early October, while they
were busy rushing to change the heart of Haru's father.  But, neither
considered that day their anniversary, or even honestly remembered the exact
date.  November 10th had been one hell of a mess.  They had just secured their
route to Sae-san's treasure, and just as Morgana and Makoto had predicted,
Akechi requested that they hold off sending the calling card so he could tip
off the police.  Their own plan was finalized, as much as it could have been at
that point.  Still, no one could deny that the margin of error for this whole
mission left pits at the bottom of every stomach.  So many variables could
change.  And unless everything went perfectly, Akira would be murdered.  The
idea that the life of one of the most important people to her was sitting in
her hands was nerve wracking.  They spent the night of the 10th curled up
together on the sofa in the attic, simply existing in the same space for as
long as they could until they were inevitably forced apart.  Sojiro, time,
Akechi...seemed like everything was ready and willing to tear them from one
another.  She remembered how Akira had broken their tense, frightened silence,
sounding so empty it still caused her discomfort.
 
"Futaba, if the plan doesn't work-"
 
"Please don't."
 
"Futaba."
 
"I know exactly what you're going to say.  If you go down, there's no saying he
won't come for us too.  Protect myself and Sojiro.  Don't worry about anything
else.  Forget about you and focus on myself..."
 
Akira had been trembling the whole time.  It had been strange to see someone
like him, a pillar of calm, smug resolve and leadership, shake against her side
like a scared little boy.  Which, oddly enough, he was.  It didn't make him any
less impressive to her, though.  In fact, she had felt honored.  Only Morgana
could have possibly seen how badly this was effecting him until that day.  It
didn't make him weak to her, just human.
 
"If you go down, I will do everything in my power to make him and whoever is
pulling his puppet strings pay, for both your sake and my mother's.  It doesn't
matter if the others run or stay and fight.  I'm not giving up.  I'm with
you...until the very end."
 
"Futaba, please don't throw your life away for this."
 
"Then let's call the whole thing off right now.  We'll meet up with the others
tomorrow and plan a way to just confront Akechi the hard way.  That way no one
throws their life away.  We sink or swim together."
 
"What?  No, that's way too dangerous...and the deadline would pass before we
could even do anything."
 
"Well then, stop complaining, Akira!  You said it was my right to stay with you
for as long as I wanted to.  Well, I still want to be with you after November
19th of this year.  Hell, I wanna be with you after November 19th of next year
too, if we can manage to end this whole thing without it blowing up at us.  If
you think I'm going to forgive anyone who takes that away from me, you're dead
wrong.  And that includes you too.  So no thoughts of what happens if you die.
 That's basically giving up already.  You're going to convince Sae Niijima to
believe you and she's going to show your phone to Akechi and you're going to
live."
 
"...you make it sound so simple."
 
"Because it is."
 
Much later, sometime in February when they were finally not struggling to keep
their heads above water, Akira admitted that before that conversation, he
wasn't entire sure if their relationship would survive their trails as Phantom
Thieves.  But November 10th was the day they both resolved to keep fighting,
together, as long as there were fights to be fought.  It was their anniversary.
 And this year looked as though it was wearing on the poor boy quite a bit.
 Nothing compared to literally fighting for his life, but he was definitely
losing sleep.  They both were.  So, as she laid in bed, she resolved to make
November 10th an escape from that stress.  She was going to make this year's
anniversary awesome and nothing would stop her.
 
                                      ~~~
 
Akira was exhausted.
 
Between helping Yusuke send his portfolio to just about every art firm in the
city of Tokyo, daily visits to Sae-san in the hospital, making sure Haru didn't
run herself ragged taking care of Makoto, and playing phone tag with Tae and
Sojiro to set up this new diet of his, Akira barely had the energy to breathe.
Not to mention, he had been covering Haru's shifts as well as his own at
LeBlanc so that Sojiro could try to relax a bit. His one consolation was that
they were making progress on each of the issues he was tackling. Sae was being
released to bed rest at home soon so Makoto had managed to calm down quite a
bit. Haru promised she would take over her morning hours tomorrow morning. And
Yusuke had an interview on Monday afternoon and another on Wednesday. Things
were steadily improving. Still, the emotional and physical demand of making
sure all his friends didn't keel over had been outrageous.
 
Once a leader always a leader he supposed glumly.
 
Sojiro had come into LeBlanc to release him of his duties about an hour ago.
Apparently young men like him should be enjoying their Saturday evenings rather
than working their asses off. Which was probably code for Futaba wanted his
attention, an idea that was confirmed when said girl texted him asking when
he'd be home. Still, he couldn't deny that he needed a break and his time with
Futaba had been criminally minimal for most of the week. He missed her.
 
He arrived at the Guild just in time to catch Ryuji leaving with a duffle bag.
That was one issue none of them had been able to make headway on. Ryuji and Ann
still weren't speaking. In fact, they weren't even trying. The part of him that
acknowledged there were many more important things to focus on wanted to let
them work it out on their own. The sappy part of him just wanted his family to
stop hurting even if that meant he had to fight another battle that didn't
belong to him. 
 
"Hey," he greeted, making his best effort to make his smile seem reassuring. He
very likely failed.
 
Ryuji swept him into a bro hug immediately. "Hey, uh. I'm gonna spend a few
days at my mom's. Lotsa stress still here, ya know?"
 
Akira nodded, squeezing his friend tightly. "And the stress level at your mom's
will be lower?"
 
"Not sure." Ryuji's normally excitable voice sounded hallow, tired. Akira's
heart hurt for his friend. "Might as well try."
 
They parted ways with a firm fist bump. Akira's first instinct was to go check
on Ann, but as he climbed the stairs he saw that her bedroom door was closed.
Ann-speak for 'disturb me and die'. It was best to just leave things be for the
moment.
 
When he entered the Den, he immediately collapsed on his bed. What a week.
Akira shot off a quick text to Futaba, telling her he was home. She read the
text but didn't respond. Probably on the train or something.
 
The sound of very heavy shoes clacking on the floor got his attention. The only
person in the Guild to regularly wear high heels was Ann, but the noise came
from downstairs. Weird. He followed the sound of the person's footsteps as they
ascended the stairs and stopped outside his door. Maybe Ann wanted to talk to
someone about this after all. It would be hard to be a completely neutral party
to that sort of argument, but damnit if he wouldn't try. Before he could even
sit up, the door opened, revealing a vision of beauty in a silky green dress
and brown wedges.
 
"Futaba...?"
 
No one in their right mind would deny that Futaba was a pretty girl.  She just
so happened to prefer baggy jeans and too-large jackets to frilly skirts and
tight blouses.  The evident lack of care shown by her normal attire was a
complex thing, he'd found.  It was a three part combo of genuine laziness,
discomfort being looked at, and desire for comfort.  This outfit was born of
none of those things.  The dress was gorgeous, a deep green sleekness that was
tight around the chest and stomach but flared out at the waist.  The shoes were
decently high even for heels, but they toned her legs remarkably.  The long red
hair he adored so much fell in its two usually strands near her shoulders, but
the rest of her hair was gathered into an elaborate bun and held with a gold
clip, which matched the gold bracelet and choker she had on.  He was most
surprised by the pristine eyeliner and glossy pink lipstick.  Futaba hated
makeup almost as much as she being stared at.  And this outfit was definitely
going to earn her some looks.
 
Those pretty pink lips smiled wryly at him.  So hypnotizing he almost missed
her words.  "You have no idea what day it is, do you?"
 
He blinked.  In a trance, he looked down at his phone to check the date.  Oh.
 
Oh.
 
"Don't freak out," she laughed before his mental implosion could leak out into
reality.  "I knew it wasn't on your mind.  That actually worked out in my
favor; I wanted to surprise you."
 
"I forgot our anniversary."  He almost didn't recognize his own voice.  The
expression on his face must have looked as miserable as he sounded because
Futaba immediate shook her head and hurried over to him, moving awkwardly in
her wedges.  How cute.
 
Taking his face in her hands, she leaned their foreheads together.  From there,
he could smell the fruity perfume she was sporting on her neck and wrists.  He
liked it.  "Babe," she cooed adoringly, thumbs stroking at his cheekbones, "We
didn't even get to celebrate it last year. And the last week has been a
nightmare and a half.  I'm totally not mad, Akira.  I promise.  That's why I
wanted to do this, actually.  A nice evening to get our minds off of the
screaming metal death trap that is our life right now."
 
"You look like an angel.  Or a classier version of Poison Ivy from Batman.
Either way I'm being spoiled."
 
Futaba giggle-snorted, "Ya know, somehow I feel more complimented by your
awkward as hell babbling than by your pantie dropping one-liners."
 
"Wasn't aware I had pantie dropping one-liners," he murmured, smirking a bit.
"If I used one now, would I be graced with the knowledge of whether they match
your dress?"
 
With an eye-roll, she pulled away, satisfied with his restored smart-ass
attitude.  "Put on that suit I know you let collect dust in your closet before
we miss our reservation like a good boy and just maybe you'll find out. No one-
liner required."
 
There were no arguments on his end.
 
                                      ~~~
 
The place Futaba got them a reservation for was a high end steakhouse that
smelled like heaven and cost a fortune.  He spent most of the first course of
their meal plotting ways to steal the check from his date before she could blow
twenty thousand yen on one night's meal.  Unfortunately for him, the food was
well worth the money and quickly distracted him from his mission.  The waiters
came table to table with entire racks of meat that they would cut until you
were pleased with the amount on your plate.  Chicken breasts, pork tenderloins,
every cut of cow imaginable, some of which even came wrapped in bacon.  Futaba
joked about how Ryuji would have gladly sold a kidney to come here.  Akira
pointed out that Morgana would be more than disgruntled at their lack of
invitation for him to join them.  Neither seemed all that mournful of their
inconsideration.  The waiters brought them a slice of cheesecake to share as an
anniversary present.  Akira privately laughed at the term present, knowing full
well it would appear on the bill.  He never got to see how much it cost because
Futaba had slipped her bank card to their waiter secretly when the cake was
brought out.  Still, the dinner had been unreasonably perfect, which he had no
qualms mentioning to Futaba as they walked towards the train station.  Her only
response had been to kiss his cheek and promise that the night was not yet
through.
 
They ran into Yusuke at the front gate to the Guild.  He was just getting home
from an impromptu interview with the chair of an art firm he had applied to at
the Beef Bowl Shop.  Futaba slipped inside while they spoke, claiming that she
desperately needed to get her 'inhumane torture devices' off of her feet before
she died.  After thoroughly congratulating Yusuke on what appeared to be a
solid job offer, Akira followed after Futaba up to the room.  At that point, he
had no expectations of doing anything but taking his tie off and cuddling up in
bed to let the Food Coma consume them.  However, upon opening the door, the
strong smell of lavender and chamomile informed him that his genius girlfriend
wasn't quite done with him yet.  The lack of lights was weird, but the light
from the hallway was more than enough to inform him that she was in the
bathroom.
 
"Futaba," he called out, hesitantly.  "Will I ruin whatever you're plotting if
I come in?"
 
"Nope!" she chirped, emerging from the dark bathroom holding a lit, scented
candle.  Her excited smile made her eyes twinkle stunningly in the flickering
illumination of the flame in her hands.  She placed it on a metal stand on the
dresser.  Bounding up to him, she urged him to push the door closed behind him.
 Now in near darkness, he could make out that there were more flickering lights
coming from the bathroom.  His eyes met hers, curious and a bit incredulous.
 "Come on!"
 
The soft gasp that escaped him really couldn't be helped.  The entire bathroom
was covered in small tea lights and rose petals.  A five pronged candelabra was
the largest light source, placed carefully on the bathroom counter, which had
been meticulously cleaned.  Akira could now tell that the floral smell was
coming from the bathtub, filled with sweet smelling water with a handful of
petals floating on the surface.  It was the romantic bath scene from every
cheesy romance movie that he and Ryuji claimed would never work in real life.
 
He happily ate his own words.  Touched didn't even begin to describe the
emotions flowing through him from Futaba's sweet display.
 
"You're such a cheese ball," he whispered, eyes feeling a bit wet.  He wrapped
Futaba in a firm hug.  "You really didn't have to..."
 
"Would you just let me pamper you for once?  You take such good care of me
throughout all my never ending issues. Reciprocity is sexy."
 
He agreed, retreating back into the main room to take off his suit jacket,
pants, and nice dress shirt.  As he hung up his clothes, he joked "So you're
going to give me a bath.  What's next? Chocolate?"
 
"Actually..."  The sound of a zipper going down grabbed his attention.  He
turned just in time to see Futaba slide her dress off her body and step out of
it gingerly.  She reached up to remove the clip from her hair, red tresses
falling elegantly down over her bare chest and back.  She dumped the gold clip,
as well as her nice jewelry, onto the dresser.  Nervously, her hand came up to
push some of her hair behind her ear as she admitted, "I was actually thinking
we would take that bath...together."
 
Her panties absolutely matched her dress.
 
"Oh.  That sounds, really nice actually.  You're sure you're comfortable...?"
 
Futaba shot him a cheeky smile.  "Am I comfortable being butt naked with the
most attractive man I know spontaneously?  Uh, no. But there's gotta be a first
time sometime, right?  Seems like one of those YOLO moments, I guess."
 
Rolling his eyes mockingly, he accepted her response, hanging up her dress in
the closet and then ushering her into the bathroom.  She placed her phone on
the counter, starting a playlist of some soft acoustic music.  The candlelight
made her hair almost glow like the flames and accented every curve on her.
 
He decided to spare her some level of emotional strife by stripping off his
boxers and climbing into the bathtub as she attended to the music.  The water
was a bit warmer than he liked, but it almost meant they wouldn't have to worry
about the temperature for awhile.  The bath oils' scent relaxed his entire body
as he slumped down in the water with a sigh.
 
"Here, lift your head a minute."  Futaba strode over with what looked like a
pool floaty.  She got the suction cups wet and stuck the inflated object to the
tub behind Akira's neck.  It was a bathtub pillow.
 
"Mmm.  This pampering thing is pretty nice.  No wonder Ann loves it so much."
 He let his eyes slide closed as he lounged, head infinitely more comfortable
than it would have been.
 
Futaba hummed, fidgeting enough that he could tell she was doing so.  He heard
the elastic band of her underwear snap against her skin once and kept his eyes
closed to give her some semblance of privacy as she removed them.  At the feel
of her foot entering the tub beside his, he scooted back a bit, letting her
arrange her body in anyway she wanted.  It surprised him a bit that she settled
her back against his chest, imagining that she would have wanted some distance
between them at first.  Then again, it wasn't exactly a spacious tub, so he
didn't voice this observation.  After a bit of squirming and limb rearranging,
they finally found a cozy position and sunk back into the warmth of the water.
 
 They sat like that for awhile, simply enjoying the music and their pleasant
closeness.  Akira pressed a lingering kiss on Futaba's neck.  "Thank you.
 Tonight has been incredible."
 
She snuggled back against him a bit.  "I'm glad you enjoyed it.  You deserve
it, you know.  You've been amazing this past week, standing by all of us
equally, bringing us all calm, practical advice as we struggled to keep sane.
 Everyone relies on you so much, me especially.  It's about time I started
repaying you."
 
"There's no debt to manage, Futaba.  You've got this bad habit of acting like
you're a leech to me, taking and taking but never giving back.  You've saved me
just as often as I have you, you know.  We're even."
 
"I know," she muttered, hands coming up to the lip of the tub to thread her
fingers through his.  "Logically, I understand.  I guess I just feel like
you've been such a revolutionary force in my life, from day one and even now.
 Hard to ever imagine myself as being able to match that."
 
"I assure you that you being in my life has been just as world changing for
me."
 
Akira let himself get lost in the violin and gently sloshing of the water.  The
gears in Futaba's head were practically screeching from how hard they turned.
 He was content to run his thumbs over her knuckles and doze until she found
her words.
 
"Akira?"
 
"Hmm?"
 
"The other night, after I stormed out during that argument with Sojiro.
 What...did you say to him?"
 
Ah.  He had promised he would tell her eventually, didn't he?  
 
"Um. I told him that he would risk missing out on tons of important moments in
your life if he didn't take his health seriously."
 
"Like what?"
 
That evening had been stressful to say the least.  Sojiro was proud to be an
extremely independent person and stubborn as hell to boot.  Akira had decided
quickly that giving him avenues of fixing things himself and showing him what
he could be sacrificing rather than trying to convince him he was wrong would
be the best method of action.  It was probably for the best that Futaba had
taken off.  The two had a way of lighting fires under each other that only
tense, quiet evenings with little or no sleep could put out.  He remembered
Sojiro's pained expression after Futaba left.
 
"You know she only cares about you."
 
"I know.  You both do.  But this whole situation seems a bit silly to me."
 
"Maybe it is silly.  But what if it isn't?  What if its serious?"
 
Sojiro hadn't taken the bait on that one.  He thought to try something else.
 
"I know you don't want us to worry.  Family's a two way street though, at
least...ideally.  You want to be there to watch us grow up, make our own lives.
 And we want you there beside us when we get there.  That can't happen if we
don't take care of each other though.  All of us."
 
"I'm so proud of her, you know.  She's come so far.  You too.  You're both
doing well for yourselves, despite all the hiccups."
 
"I know, Boss.  I'm proud of her too.  But there's still more exciting things
in her future.  Graduation, getting her first job.  And I mean, would you ever
forgive yourself if you missed her wedding?"
 
"Like your...wedding. Potentially."
 
He felt Futaba's entire body stiffen against his.  Her voice was barely even a
whisper.  "MY wedding, as in just me...or...?"
 
"Akira, tell me honestly.  You two have been together awhile now.  I hate even
thinking about this because you guys are so damn young, but...you're good for
her.  Where do you see this thing you guys have going?"
 
"We are young.  You're right.  So I haven't exactly been looking all that far
into the future.  But, I can't fathom a single reason why I'd ever leave her.
 So, assuming she doesn't want to leave me either, after we both had our lives
more put together...."
 
Akira leaned forward to rest his chin on her shoulder.  His arms came down to
wrap firmly around her waist.  "Our wedding.  Provided that was something we
wanted."
 
"...if she would take me, then I would marry her in heartbeat."
 
All the tension leaked out of Futaba immediately and she melted back against
his body one more.  "O-oh."  Her voice shook a bit.  His own heart was beating
wildly in his chest.  He closed his eyes, hid his face her neck.  It was really
warm.  She was blushing.  "I.  I remember you said you would like to get
married.  When Ryuji asked."
 
"Yeah.  And I do.  But, definitely not soon.  I'd want to at least know what
trajectory my life was taking before I tangled it legally with another
person's."
 
Futaba hummed softly.  "Sounds like that will take some work."
 
Akira laughed gently.  "Yeah.  And time."
 
He was under no disillusions concerning how far off of a pipe dream marriage,
even to Futaba, would be.  The number of people that got married to their high
school sweetheart was low.  Akira currently had a job he liked, but no college
education, and no plans on what to do to further his aspects. The only idea
that resonated with him even a bit was Haru's talk of opening up Cafe Noir one
day.  While he adored his work at LeBlanc, he wasn't sure if it would be
feasible to do that his whole life and it felt presumptuous picturing himself
working alongside Haru.  Like taking a dream shared with him by a dear friend
and sullying it with his own selfish desires.  Futaba was still in high school,
with no clue if she would go to university or try to join the workforce right
away.  Their current plan was for Futaba to move into the Thieves' Guild with
Akira after graduation, but even while living together, their lives would twist
and turn in all sorts of directions.  Who knew where their paths would take
them...or if they would find that staying together was the right thing for them
or not.  It would be an uphill battle for sure.
 
"I'm willing to fight for it."
 
Akira's eyes blinked open.  Straightening up and loosening his grip on the
young woman, he questioned softly, "You're what...?"
 
Futaba took a deep breath, then turned in the bath until they were each sitting
cross legged, facing each other.  Her eyes were steely, resolved.  "That
future.  Our future.  I'm willing to fight for it if you are."
 
In the back of his mind, he determined that it was slightly ridiculous, what
they were doing.  Having a discussion about the future, about marriage, at 18
and 17 years old while sitting in their rapidly cooling bathtub, bodies on
clear display.  He couldn't find it in himself to care, though.  This felt like
one of those moments he could look back on when he was Sojiro's age and
remember in striking clarity, perhaps because the setting was so unusual.
 Maybe it was Futaba's bravery that was making him feel all poetic.  It was
certainly a sight to behold.  His eyes felt slightly watery for the millionth
time this night.
 
"We have no idea what our lives will be like by that point.  What if we aren't
headed in the same direction?"
 
Futaba shot him a pissy glare, nose scrunching in distaste.  "Ugh!  Akira.
 What's with the lack of faith?  You're not just someone I'm dating while in
high school, you dingus.  You saved my freaking life, we've almost died
together multiple times!  We don't follow the plebeian rules of normal people."
 She said normal like it was a curse word, hands flying into the air in
exasperation.  "You're my best friend, a part of my family, my literal partner
in actual crime.  I just happen to love you and want to kiss you senseless as
an added bonus.  I was never planning to just give you up, even if we weren't
dating.  So, don't give me that crap about the odds being against us.  The odds
have always been against us.  And we kicked their ass before.  So are you with
me or not?"
 
And just like that, Akira Kurusu had been defeated.  The tears in his eyes
finally spilled over, streaming down his face as he gave Futaba a wobbly smile,
helplessly infatuated with and awed by her.  He nodded, laughing out a sob.
 "Always," he promised.  Futaba's eyes weren't dry either as she rose to her
knees to pull his head against her chest.  It couldn't have been comfortable to
kneel on the porcelain like that, but she never once complained.  They held
each other like that for awhile longer, before one of them noticed how pruney
their skin had gotten and they decided to move their cuddle-fest to the bed,
since Futaba had gotten permission to stay over ahead of time.
 
Akira's tears were mostly gone, head pillowed contently on Futaba's soft chest,
their legs completely entangled.  He considered suggesting they put on clothes,
just in case Ryuji popped by in the morning, but decided against it.  He was
too relaxed to be responsible and he honestly was enjoying the ever loving hell
out of all the naked cuddling that had been occurring tonight.
 
Speaking of which...
 
Futaba suddenly gasped loudly, arms tightening around Akira's shoulders to keep
him from flinching too hard at the noise.  "Akira!  Achievement unlocked!  See
each other naked and cuddle while naked have been completed.  Plus thirty
victory points."
 
"Mmm," Akira acknowledged, smirking into a soft boob.  "See, I thought the most
exciting part of tonight was you proposing to me, but it's always good to make
progress on the promise list."
 
He let that one sink in for a second.
 
"P-P-PROPOSE?!?!"
 
It may have taken him two hours to calm Futaba down, but it was definitely
worth it.  She had flustered him so many different times tonight it was unreal
and in her own words, reciprocity is sexy.
 
                                     ~x~x~
 
Her friend Suki-chan first brought the topic up at lunch one day shortly before
their finals for the year.  It wasn't like Futaba hadn't ever thought about it
before.  She definitely had.  But until recently, even nudity for the sake of
nudity had been a strange, foreign subject.  Everything else had been on the
back burner until she was more confident in her own skin.
 
"Hey, do you guys want to catch a movie tomorrow after school?  We could study
at the diner and grab a bite afterwards," Teru had asked.
 
"Ugh," Suki moaned, hand flopping into her hands.  "I can't.  I'm totally
grounded."
 
Futaba blinked.  "What did you do?"  Suki was not exactly the bad girl type. 
Her grades weren't amazing, but certainly above average.  She was somewhat
introverted too, so she didn't go out too often if it wasn't with their friend
group or her best friend from middle school.  How on Earth did she get in
trouble?
 
Suki blushed, squirming a bit.  "Uhhh, let's not talk about it."
 
Their whole group grinned, smelling a juicy story.  "No way!  Now you HAVE to
tell us."
 
The girl fixed them with a glare, puffing her chest out.  When she saw she had
no way of getting them to leave her be, she petulantly groaned, "My mom caught
me watching porn."
 
The silence was stifling.  Teru finally broke it by blurting out, "She grounded
you for watching porn?  What the hell, dude?"
 
"I mean, yes, but she was more mad about my...toy."  When the group's
questioning stare went on too long, Suki hissed out, "I was using a dildo, ok? 
She's pissed cuz I sneaked into an adult store to buy porn and a dildo when I'm
still underage.  There.  You happy?"
 
Happy wasn't the accurate word for it, but they certainly dropped the
conversation topic.
 
The topic of watching pornography stuck in Futaba's mind for the rest of that
day.  It wasn't unusual to watch porn at her age.  Hell, Mizumi-senpai from
Class 3-A had been found with a boy's head under her skirt in the gymnasium
broom closet just last week.  (Funny how her name got around fast, but not the
boy's.)  The exploration of sexual thoughts and fantasies wasn't frowned upon. 
And yet, hadn't added watching porn or even masturbation when writing her
promise list.  The idea had just made her uncomfortable at the time.  She
hypothesized that it was because the idea of naked bodies and her own body was
alien to her at the time, so she endeavored to try this out.
 
Only issue was she had no idea how to do that.  Where did people even watch
porn?  The internet, sure, but there had to be tips and tricks of the trade. 
The person who would know most about porn would probably be Ryuji, but she
doubted he had any information that would be relevant to her tastes.  She
elected to ask Haru instead, since she had mentioned there being a "right type
of porn" before to Ann.
 
That turned out to be a fine decision because not only was Haru super chill
about the whole thing, but she had tons of recommendations that were apparently
mild but also visually stimulating and not super theatrical.  Futaba noticed
during that conversation that Haru had dabbled in both straight and gay porn,
the largest of her collection being girl on girl.  She didn't find it in
herself to comment on that discovery. That night, after Sojiro had gone to
sleep, Futaba pulled up all of Haru's favorite videos containing men and
women.  Compared to her stereotypical view of porn, this was definitely less
obnoxious.  Yet, while this was watchable, Futaba was still far from aroused. 
She got especially uncomfortable watching the scenes of the men stripping and
getting blow jobs.
 
                                                                  To: Cafe Noir
          I don't get it.  I've never felt grossed out looking at Akira before.
                                                                               
                                                                From: Cafe Noir
 Well I would hope not! You're comfortable with Akira-kun as a person. It's not
                                     weird to not enjoy seeing strangers naked.
                                                                               
                                                                  To: Cafe Noir
But what if I am just generally grossed out by naked guys but I just don't know
                                it yet. I've only seen him naked that one time.
                                                                               
                                                                From: Cafe Noir
  For what it's worth, I doubt that will be the case. However, there is an easy
                   way to test that hypothesis. I doubt Akira-kun would say no.
                                                                               
                                                                  To: Cafe Noir
     So I'm just supposed to go up to Akira and say "Hey I think other people's
                     penises are gross. Can I check and make sure yours isn't?"
                                                                               
                                                                From: Cafe Noir
                      How could any man resist you, Futaba-chan? Inconceivable.
                                                                               
                                                                  To: Cafe Noir
                                                                            >.>
 
The issue of her failed porn experiment haunted her thoughts for days. Making
out with Akira definitely made her excited. She was capable of sexual thoughts
and becoming aroused in sexual situations, so her being sex repulsed wasn't an
option. There were even parts of being with Akira physically that she enjoyed
specifically because he had a masculine build. Was it possible to be attracted
to a person but not their genitals? Would that being the case ruin their
relationship? Or was it a matter of getting used to dicks, much like her own
body?
 
Futaba supposed that last one was the most likely. As well as the easiest to
deal with. But if that was so, then it could be like the mirror situation; just
forcing herself to look at pictures of dicks might always make her
uncomfortable because she expected it to be. She would need to find a way to
see one while relaxed. Which was a strange concept.
 
"Your head looks like it's going to start smoking. You ok, Futaba?" Akira joked
from his spot next to her on the bed. They were cuddling, as per the norm after
school and work had freed them and dinner had been consumed. Guiltily, she
acknowledged that her preoccupied state of mind had made her somewhat
inattentive of Akira recently. Of course, he never complained. But she often
found her thoughts drifting during kisses and conversations, which led to their
overall quality decreasing. Akira's protocol for 'Futaba is overthinking' was
typically to wait until she decided to speak up, which she appreciated. As much
as Futaba hated to admit it, Haru was probably right. 
 
"This is going to sound super strange," she prefaced, grimacing before she even
spoke. "I, um...in a primary investigation of pornography decided that penises
are kinda weird and gross looking and I am concerned that that association
might also extend to yours."
 
Kill her. Strike her down right there. Game over. Cause of death:
embarrassment.
 
Akira blinked. Once. Twice. Then muttered, "Huh." Not a question. Just an
acknowledgement. Futaba could feel her face starting to catch fire. Luckily,
Akira continued, "Did you feel that way when we took that bath together? Or
afterwards in bed?"
 
"No. Though, admittedly, I didn't look much."
 
"You felt though."
 
"Yes."
 
"And that didn't bother you."
 
"Not at all. Even when you've been hard, it hasn't bothered me."
 
Akira nodded. "So you're thinking it's a visual thing?"
 
"Very possibly."
 
"Hmm." Akira paused, picking at his fingernails. His eyes scanned the ceiling,
mouth quirking as he worked through his thoughts. The depth of his thought
process about this was...kind of sweet. He always took her so seriously. "My
first inclination is that it may be the medium that's weirding you out.
Watching strangers in a video with the cheesy porno music in the background
doesn't get me going either."
 
"Yeah, that's what Haru said."
 
"But if you want to know for sure, I am a person with a penis. And you are more
than free to look at mine, as awkward as that sounds. Ryuji has his class
tonight so he won't be back until at least 10 PM."
 
She huffed out a laugh. "That...is also something Haru said."
 
He smiled. "Haru is a pretty smart cookie."
 
The anxiousness in her gut was definitely still there, but the reassurance that
Akira was...well, Akira and hadn't judged her made the extreme awkwardness of
this whole situation seem like freak out worthy.  She nodded. "Ok. I guess. Um.
I don't know how best to do this."
 
"Let's start here."  Akira reached down to unbutton and slide his jeans down
his legs. His boxers were light blue and had black cats on them. Futaba
grinned, wondering if Morgana knew about his immortalization on Akira's undies.
After kicking his pants to the ground, he reached up to tug his shirt off. His
fingers paused at the waistband of his boxers and he shot her a look. Futaba
nodded, steeling herself. Lifting his hips, he nudged that last article of
clothing down his legs and off the side of the bed. He resumed his previous
relaxed position, hands resting on his stomach.
 
Futaba honestly didn't mean to utter her first impression out loud. It happened
nonetheless. "It looks so defenseless."
 
Akira gave a startled chuckle. "Oooh boy. This is gonna be the sexiest
experience ever, I see." Futaba buried her face in his chest, face a deep red.
Even she couldn't help but laugh, though. "Please, keep the observations going.
I love it when someone uses abstract adjectives to describe my flaccid penis."
 
"That's your kink?"
 
"Guess so."
 
Sitting up, she shook her head. Judging by Akira's mirthful grin, the self
deprecating humor was free of actual spite. Still, she had a feeling Ryuji was
going to be giving her shit for this pretty soon. Akira kept most parts of
their private life to himself, but he could never turn down an opportunity to
give her shit. She couldn't even be mad about this one.
 
"So, I've felt this against my butt multiple times now. I'm assuming you're a
grow-er?"
 
"As opposed to a show-er? Yeah, I guess." She was thankful he didn't take her
words to be an insult. She hadn't meant them to be such. "I also wouldn't
consider myself particularly gifted either, though. In case you were
wondering."
 
The internet had informed her that most men were incapable of modesty
concerning their penis. Regardless of the accuracy of that assumption, she was
glad this particular man was just looking to be honest. Also... "I honestly
don't think I'd care either way," she admitted. 
 
Any disgust or repulsion she expected to feel hadn't made its appearance. To
say she was relieved was an understatement. However, the exercise would still
be useful for ensuring her comfort, if nothing else. One of her biggest hopes
for their physical relationship was to be able to make Akira feel good. As long
as they were exploring this, she might as well learn what she could.
 
"Do you mind if I touch you?"
 
"Go ahead. Gently though, please. I am, uh, generally pretty sensitive."
 
"In a good way or a bad way?"
 
Akira gave her a wry smile. "Both. Stimulation is very pleasant.
Overstimulation hurts like a bitch."
 
She first ran her fingers over his stomach. She liked the way it clenched
beneath her touch. This was her first chance to really see his thighs too. They
were thinner than she imagined, looked decently soft. Ann had once remarked
that  she wouldn't be surprised if Ryuji's were capable of squishing
watermelons, given how muscular they were. She was pretty thankful for the lack
of overly muscular limbs on Akira. The lean softness was a quality she enjoyed
a lot. Her hand gave one thigh a nice squeeze before continuing on to brush
against his penis. Akira drew in a breath sharply, much like a gasp, causing
Futaba's hand to jolt away.
 
"Sorry. Didn't hurt. Just. Not my hand," he explained, blushing. Sometimes she
forgot that Akira was having first times throughout this journey too. No other
person had ever touched Akira here, at least not since he was a child and
needed help bathing. The idea made her chest swell. 
 
Returning her hand slowly and gently to his member, she toyed with the skin a
bit. It was soft. And wrinkly. Different but not unpleasant. Tightening her
grip a bit, she pulled the foreskin back to reveal the head. Akira shivered and
gave a whine. Quiet, calm Akira Kurusu was loud in bed. Heat settled in the pit
of her stomach. This...this she liked. "You good?"
 
"Mmhmm," his affirmation was strained. She could feel him starting to get hard.
It was like a steel rod wrapped in a layer of skin. She trailed her closed hand
up and down in, grip loose. His hips still flexed whenever she reached the
head. He only got harder, the skin becoming more red than before as it filled
with blood. The term grow-er certainly did apply here, she decided. Already he
was twice the width and length he used to be. She noted that while he wasn't
scarily long like the men in the pornos she had seen, he was pretty thick. She
wondered what the difference was sensation-wise. 
 
"Hey. Tell me what feels good."
 
He peeked one eye open, his pupil had expanded by a lot. "Everything." She
huffed, tightening her grip, wrist twisting in her effort to meet his eyes. He
groaned, low in his throat. "That. What you just-" she repeated the twisting
motion and was rewarded with a shuttering "yessss."
 
Futaba could feel herself getting worked up. In truth, the physicality of what
she was doing wasn't very interesting. The more she thought about it, the more
she understood that a penis was just a muscle with tons of nerves on it.
Different from her own genitalia and thus interesting, but that wasn't why she
was so turned on. It was the noises. The jerks of his thighs and how his abs
jumped when she got the angle or speed just right. Akira was extraordinarily
receptive to her minstrations. She was making him feel good and the cool mask
of calm was slipping away, perhaps even without his will.  It was really,
really hot.
 
So lost was she in thought that she didn't notice Akira starting to mumble to
himself. "C-close. I. I'm. Oh. Ah." Futaba kept her hand motions steady, taking
note of the way the head had turned almost purple recently. At the top of her
next stroke, she ran her thumb gingerly over the slit, a bit shocked when Akira
let out a strangled cry and came. The pearly white liquid that coated her hand
was very warm and... plentiful. Idly, she contemplated how blow jobs would work
when that much fluid was released. That was easily more than one mouthful. His
orgasm over, Akira sunk boneless into his mattress. Futaba chuckled a bit,
figuring that Akira might just be the type to require a good long nap after
cumming.
 
Still breathless, the flushed boy joked, "So? What's the verdict? Think penises
are gross?"
 
Futaba raised her defiled hand up for his inspection. "Uhh, kinda. This stuff
is super sticky. And smells weird." Her nose wrinkle made him laugh airily. "I
should probably go wash this off before it dries."
 
"Yeah. It makes a crusty film when dried. Super nasty. Don't recommend."
 
Futaba rushed to the bathroom after that lovely image, much to Akira's
amusement. After both parties had cleaned up sufficiently, and her sleepy
partner had peed (which was evidently something men or at least Akira often
needed to do after orgasm), they returned to bed for more cuddling. 
 
"I liked that actually," Futaba declared, running her fingers through the
slightly sweaty black locks.
 
"Me too," he replied, sounding almost delirious. From satisfaction or
exhaustion she wasn't sure.
 
"I think I don't really have an attachment to penises though."
 
"So if I were a girl you wouldn't care?"
 
She considered that for a moment before replying, "Yeah I don't think so. I
like you the way you are. But...honestly I think I just like you in general."
 
"Hmm. Have you ever thought of other people as attractive before me?"
 
"Uh. I mean...I can appreciate a pretty face. Or a nice butt. But I've never
wanted to kiss anyone except you."
 
Akira opened his tired eyes to look at her. Blearily, he explained, "There's a
type of asexuality called being demisexual. Means you only have sexual
attraction to people you are already comfortable with and romantically
attracted to. Might not hurt to read into it. See if it resonates with you.
Might explain a lot."
 
Futaba blinked. That...sounded pretty accurate actually. All of her thoughts of
a physical nature only started popping up when she was already crushing pretty
darn hard on Akira. She wasn't sure if her lack of thoughts about other people
was due to being in a relationship or simply not being interested though.
Still, was an interesting thing to look into. She turned her attention back to
her boyfriend to thank him for the insight and snorted a bit when she found
that he had fallen fast asleep. Definitely the post-coital coma type of person.
How cute.
 
She decided to spare Ryuji the possible mortification and slipped Akira's
boxers back onto him. She covered him with his blanket and kissed his forehead
before she left. That night, she spent some time researching different
sexualities. Of all the definitions available to her, she found that
demisexuality did fit better than anything else, though not perfectly. Futaba
elected to share this discovery with Haru to get a second opinion.
 
                                                                From: Cafe Noir
I'd honestly never heard of that before, but it makes a lot of sense given what
                                                           you're experiencing.
  If nothing else, it gives you a basis for evaluating your own feelings, which
                           is always nice. Are you happy with that description?
                                                                               
                                                                  To: Cafe Noir
    Honestly, yeah. It's sort of like...a huge weight dropped off my shoulders.
         There are other people who have similar thoughts and feelings to mine.
       I'm not just an abnormality. And now I even have words to describe those
                                                                      feelings.
                                                                               
                                                                From: Cafe Noir
I'm so happy for you, Futaba-chan. Unfortunately, a certain cat is informing me
     that I should be sleeping. Actually, he thinks you should go to sleep too.
                                                                               
                                                                  To: Cafe Noir
                                   Come over here and make me, Mona. You won't.
                     Anyway, goodnight Haru. Thanks for all the awesome advice.
 
Labels were complicated. On the one hand, they could limit you. On the other,
they could provide language to previously intangible thoughts and unite similar
minded people. Maybe Futaba didn't check all the boxes under the term
demisexual, but it was a pretty good start. It gave her a better sense of self
understanding that she could use to refine the way she handled her views on
sex. Today, she had technically checked off learn how to please Akira from her
list, but she wasn't quite satisfied with that. There had to be more fun and
exciting buttons she could push. Buttons that would surely reward her with new
reactions. And since so much of her enjoyment tonight had come from knowing she
was making Akira feel good, she longed to allow him to return the favor. 
 
She didn't have a lot left on her list, but there was still have a lot left
that they could do. An almost endless amount. This was only the beginning. The
thought made her smile.
 
                                     ~x~x~
 
Akira didn't typically think of himself as a competitive person.  However, this
holiday season was an exception to that rule.  It had been over a month and he
still was reeling from the amazingly sweet surprise anniversary date Futaba had
planned for them.  After the hellish first week of November, the Guild members
were all finally returned to relative normality.  Even Ryuji and Ann had
seemingly worked out their issues, which Morgana had apparently stepped in to
oversee. After being deprived of the casual company of their found family for
so long, everyone was feeling a bit clingy.  Yusuke had called Futaba into his
room one night for a chat, which lasted until 3 AM and set off a chain reaction
of "Yutaba Days" where the pair made their way steadily through an impressive
list of classical movies they both wanted to watch.  Their relationship dynamic
was still mostly roasting each other, but it was definitely more affectionate
now than ever before.
 
Makoto and Ann had at some point spent an entire weekend to themselves, just
having fun, talking and trying to de-stress.  Ann moped all Monday morning
about the increase in weight she suffered after all the food the girls had
enjoyed during their conversations, but her mood overall had definitely
improved.  He had wondered aloud to Haru whether Makoto had been helping Ann
through whatever Ryuji related troubles there had been.  Haru had given him a
knowing smile and hinted that their relationship issues conference had likely
been a two way street.  He was still trying to figure out what exactly she
meant by that.
 
Strangely enough, Ryuji had been taking Morgana along with him whenever he left
the house recently.  Their feline companion admitted only to mediating a
conversation between Ann and Ryuji in late November.  Yet, there had to be some
reason for their recent buddy-buddy attitudes.  Akira supposed he couldn't
complain, though.  If Morgana and Ryuji could find some common ground, the
largest source of argument in the house might disappear.  He was always down
for some peace and quiet.
 
His own life had also taken some interesting turns.  Haru approached him one
night to pick his brain about the possibility of starting a garden somewhere in
Yongen-Jaya.  Over the years, she had gotten much better at making coffee from
various beans and at serving customers, but she hadn't had the chance to do as
much gardening as she would have liked.  Akira had suggested they talk to
Sojiro about potential locations and whether Haru's coffee beans could be
served to guests as local blends.  After a couple nights of sketching out
possible locations and a few phone calls on Haru's end, they had a decently
large plot of soil with which to kick-start Haru's dream.  Honestly, Akira
hadn't been thinking about anything other than helping out of one his dear
friends at the time.  So, it had surprised him greatly when the young heiress
did not simply offered, but begged that he be her business partner and eventual
co-manager.  Sojiro had no hesitation pointing out how much he enjoyed working
at LeBlanc and how Haru hadn't been gifted with the skills for making curry
like he had.  He had even indicated that he would gladly entrust the two of
them with LeBlanc itself when he was ready to retire.  Such high praise had
made both he and Haru more than a little emotional.
 
Life was starting to feel good again and to celebrate that relieving sensation,
everyone in the house agreed that Christmas day was to be spent with the
group.  No exceptions.  All parties who couldn't cook would go to the grocery
store and buy tons of food two days before Christmas.  Akira and Makoto would
cook a family sized dinner in exchange for whatever assistance they required
and the right to ask someone to make as many milkshakes and hot cocoa as they
wanted, which Futaba and Haru insisted be available.  Yusuke and Ryuji had
planned games and movies for the evening.  And of course, they all wanted to
open their presents together.  It was sort of a no brainer than Sojiro and Sae
would come over the house to be involved in the festivities.
 
At first, Akira had considered going all out on a super extravagant gift for
Futaba to pay her back for the frankly magical evening she had given him. 
Sadly, no material item really captured the level of emotion he was looking
for.  He did find one thing that came sort of close, and did buy it for her,
but he decided that there had to be something more to their Christmas to
properly woo her.  As much as Akira really needed a bit of advice, he
absolutely couldn't risk losing the element of surprise, so he decided to try
it without asking any Guild members for help.  He wracked his brain for
possible activities he could arrange for them to do.  It was Shinya, the
primary school gamer boy, who hit the nail on the head.   Akiba had their end
of the year blowout spectacular during Christmas.  Akira remembered Futaba
complaining about how the crowds were too large for her to feel comfortable
going alone and she had no one to go with last year (he had been spending
Christmas with his father before going back to Tokyo).  After chatting about it
with Sojiro, the elder man suggested that he would give Futaba money as her
Christmas present and let her buy whatever she wanted at Akiba.  He also
offered that she could spend the night.  Apparently, young couples like them
should "do something romantic like spend an evening away from the house on
Christmas".  Akira honestly wasn't sure if Sojiro wanted to know that he would
be taking his advice, so he kept his mouth shut.
 
The days flew by faster than he ever anticipated and by the time any of them
knew it, Christmas Eve was upon them.  Futaba swung by the Guild around lunch
time, wearing a fetching green sweater dress with reindeer themed stockings and
her overnight bag thrown over one shoulder.  Teasingly, Ryuji wrapped an arm
around his shoulder and play-groaned, "Ugh, Akira!  Why didn't you tell me you
were planning on sexing up the room tonight?  I was kinda looking forward to
spending Christmas Eve in my own bed."
 
"You're more than free to.  We won't be using the room tonight."
 
He had chosen his words carefully.  No outright statement of "we will not be
sleeping here", but also avoiding Ryuji making plans to vacate the room.  The
blond had luckily sauntered away with a "well, just let me know if you change
your mind," but judging by the curious look on Futaba's face, she understood at
least on some level that there was a hidden meaning there.  Akira smiled
mischievously at her and threw her a wink.  She'd find out soon enough.
 
The day was mostly spent huddled up in a pile of blankets in the middle of the
living room binge watching anime.  Not a single person had less than two people
touching them and it was quite frankly wonderful.  Someone, probably Yusuke,
had wondered what the best term for their current state of entanglement would
be.  Ryuji had offered up the term orgy, which was quickly and brutally shot
down in a hellfire of savagery.  Haru countered with cuddle-puddle which was so
adorable and accurate that it was instantly accepted.  Around 5 PM, Akira had
regretfully extracted himself from the piece of heaven that was being squished
between Ann and Futaba.  "Sorry guys, I need to steal Futaba for tonight.  But,
we should definitely start another cuddle-puddle up tomorrow after dinner."
 
On their way to the train station, Futaba slipped her hand into his own, a
small content smile on her face.  Akira couldn't help but match her smile with
one of his own.  "You've been so docile.  I expected you to have tried to
torture our plans out of me by now."
 
The hacker hummed, squeezing his hand tightly.  "It doesn't really matter where
we go.  I get to spend Christmas with my favorite person.  What else could I
want?"
 
"Ugh," he groaned, laughing a bit, "No!  Stop being so perfect.  It used to be
so easy to frazzle you.  Can't you give me one night of being charming again?"
 
"No can do, buckaroo.  It's the dawn of a new age.  You'll have to up your game
if you want to sample the taste of victory again."
 
Their carefree, cheerful banter made it so hard for him not to smile.  Two
years ago, he was basically a blank slate with good advice and occasionally
emotions on his face.  Now?  Grinned like a lovesick fool over nothing.  He had
zero regrets.  "Better start keeping score.  The game has officially been
upped."
 
The pure, undiluted excitement on Futaba's face when they got off the train at
Akiba was a damn good start if he did say so himself.  The sale was packed with
people, crowds so thick they barely moved three footsteps every 30 seconds. 
Their slow crawl did nothing to diminish the joy radiating off the woman at his
side, though.  There were four video games Futaba had been lusting after for
months, all of which were released on Christmas and available for purchase that
evening.  Due to the massive crowds, they only managed to snag a copy of one of
the games, but even so, the gamer girl complained not even once about the 25%
success rate.  After all, she hadn't expected to be able to get any of these
games before the New Year.
 
They spent about an hour wandering about, mostly window shopping and chatting.
Regardless of the minimal actual purchases, Akira found himself having fun.
This was a glimpse into a world that Futaba fit right into. The young woman had
never held so many conversations with strangers before without getting
overwhelmed. It warmed his heart. 
 
When Futaba had finally had enough, Akira led her to Shibuya, where they
checked in at the hotel he had reserved a room in for the evening. Futaba's
eyebrows had shot up in surprise when they arrived. He knew what she was
thinking: this sort of move was usually done with the intention of sexual
activity. Akira waited until he had pushed the door to their room open to
explain.
 
The room was nice. One large bed. Big flat screen TV. A bathtub that made
theirs look like a kiddie pool. Cost him a pretty penny so late in the game for
Christmas eve. He hadn't minded. Futaba whistled once she had given the room a
once over. "Alright. I'll admit. I underestimated you. This is pretty neat."
 
"I figured," he blurted, feeling a bit flustered. "It would be nice to be able
to have our own space, a really nice space, and not have to worry at all about
our housemates. Ryuji could have the room to himself if he wanted and we
could...do literally whatever. I. We." He sighed, recomposing himself. "We
don't have to do anything sexual if you don't want to."
 
When he looked back at Futaba, the sight made his breath hitch. She had been
getting bolder and bolder every day it seemed. In this stage of the game, she
was rarely afraid to indicate what it was she wanted. Perhaps less likely to
follow through, but she always let him know. Her body language now, sinuous
smirk and half hooded, dark as night eyes, informed his body that his offer was
unnecessary. His body liked what hers had to say.
 
"Who said anything about me not wanting to, Hot Stuff?" she purred, swaying her
hips a bit as she approached him. "You've gone through all the trouble to make
my Christmas Eve perfect. You're not going to deny me the chance to not have to
be quiet for once, are you?"
 
"Hell no," he growled, launching himself at her. Their lips connected in a
desperate surge, teeth and tongues coming into play immediately. Futaba wasted
no time threading her fingers through his hair, yanking a bit just to make him
moan. And moan he did. His own hands traveled the length of her back, grasping
and pawing at her shoulders and spine, wanting her closer. The jackets were too
much, they both decided, parting with a gasp and throwing the heavy coats to
the floor. The flew back together immediately, the force of Futaba's excitement
pushing him against the hallway wall. Her body crowded him against the surface,
pressed nice and snug against all the parts of him dying for friction. He
couldn't restrain his hips from humping against her, needy and already
frustratingly hard.
 
Futaba broke their mouths apart. Her eyes were barely colored anymore, her
pupils had expanded so much. She licked her lips, panting, "Stop being so
gentle. I'm not gonna break. I want you." The words were liquid fire, dragging
whatever was left of his blood from his brain straight to his dick. His hands
flew down to grab two nice handfuls of her bottom, earning him a gasp.
Smirking, he lifted, pleased when her legs immediately wrapped around his
waist. Akira turned quickly and pressed Futaba's back against the wall. His
lips latched onto her neck, licking and biting without making marks, and his
hips ground into her. Small hands twisted back into his hair as she threw her
head back and keened, "Yessss."
 
As much as her dress kept him from proceeding onward, he strangely had no real
desire to take it off. Their position was intimate, the closest they had ever
gotten to blatant sexual intent. The rush had more than gotten to his head and
he found himself getting worked up quickly enough with both their clothes on.
He couldn't even imagine doing this naked. Actually, no, he could. And the
thought sent shivers through his body. "Futaba," he panted. "Bed?"
 
Her eyes slid open, glasses horridly askew. She seemed beyond words, only
nodded rapidly and leaned forward to start biting on his neck. Tightening his
hold on her thighs, Akira carried them to the large bed, dropping her onto it.
She bounced decently high, laughing a bit. The glasses did not survive that
motion, falling onto the mattress. He gingerly folded them and placed them on
the bedside table before stalking up the bed towards his bright red girlfriend.
His body slid up, finding a nice comfy spot between her spread legs. Their
noses touched when he leaned down to meet her. Not for the first time, he was
glad he stopped wearing his fake glasses. Less to worry about when engaging in
bedroom activities. Futaba rubbed her nose against his softly, whispering,
"Hi."
 
He couldn't help but smile sweetly at her cute display. "Hi yourself."
 
He could feel her smile when they kissed again. The desperation from earlier
was lessened. They still yearned to touch and explore, but the focus was less
on carnal pleasure and more on enjoying touching one another. Akira shifted
forward a bit at some point, pressing his pelvic bone tightly against Futaba's
crotch mostly by accident. The girl's full body shiver and shuttering moan made
him pause. Before he could question her, Futaba rolled her hips against his,
the friction through his jeans and her tights feeling like heaven. "That. More
that. It felt weird."
 
"Weird?"
 
"Good weird. Really good weird." He repeated the hip roll. Futaba gave another
groan, "Ah. Good. Very good. Please, kiss me." He did. They laid like that for
what felt like hours, kissing languidly and grinding against each other,
unhurried. Akira knew full well he would be able to cum like this, could feel
it, a distant possibility that drew hesitantly closer with every thrust. He was
just starting to wonder if Futaba would be able to when she pulled away to
mutter, looking wrecked in all the right ways, "Need... something. Feels
strange. Hot. Really hot. Please?"
 
Sliding his hips off to the side, he slipped a hand between them to grope at
her inner thigh. Akira had absolutely no idea what he was doing, flying
completely blind for the first time ever. His fingers moved up to apex of her
thighs, fluttering over her mound to get an feel for the landscape. His eyes
watched her face carefully, searching for spots she liked more than others.
Just at the top of her slit, he pressed against a bump that made her mouth fall
open and head tip back. Experimentally, he pressed two fingers against it and
moved those fingers in all different directions and patterns. 
 
He was very well rewarded for his detective work. The gasps, moans and soft
mumbling words were endless. Futaba's hips rolled against his fingers and he
could feel the fabric of her tights grow impossibly wet. His own heart rate
elevated and he couldn't resist grinding his hips into the mattress. The
friction was splendid and drew an obscene moan from his throat. Somehow,
hearing him cry out set some sort of chain reaction off in Futaba. Her legs
clenched around his hand in a death grip, back arching off the bed. She was
surprisingly silent as she came, eyes hazy and mouth open wide in a soundless
scream. She was so beautiful, locked in an embrace with what was likely her
first orgasm ever. The very thought made the heat in his stomach spill over, as
he released inside his pants with a long groan.
 
Futaba flopped back against the mattress, panting. Akira himself would have
been more than happy to lay face down in her chest for awhile if not for the
jizz cooling in his boxers. His only pair of boxers, now that he considered his
idiotic choice to bring a change of clothes without a spare pair of underwear.
Well, he supposed, chucking off his ruined pants and mopping up the mess with
his no longer black boxers, there were worse things than free balling it home
because he had enjoyed his girlfriend's company too much.
 
He heard a breathy laugh from the bed. Futaba's cheeks were still flushed, her
expression almost blissful. His ego swelled immensely. "I see now why some
women call orgasms 'Earth Shattering'. Or 'Mind Blowing'.  Check achieve
orgasm and let Akira please me off the promise list."
 
"Oh?" he purred, being coy. "Was it good then?"
 
She flashed him a thumbs up. "Hell yep. 10/10. Would get road rash from
aggressive panty rubbing again. #worth it. #I came, he conquered."
 
He was almost embarrassed how hard he laughed at that.
 
Later, as they soaked in a very well appreciated bubble bath, Futaba mused
aloud that they had done things backwards: gotten off and then gotten naked.
Akira reminded her that they had very meticulously been picking an order for
things up until now. The spontaneity was more than welcomed as far as he was
concerned. They spent the rest of their Christmas Eve in their very large bed,
bare naked, cuddling so close together they could have fit three more people in
the bed. They watched any Christmas movies on TV, carding their fingers through
one another's hair. Before they went to sleep, Futaba thanked Akira for a
wonderful Christmas present. He kissed her forehead, secretly smiling to
himself.
 
                                      ~~~
 
Upon their return the next morning, they were apparently the last to arrive,
the group decided to do presents first. Akira sneaked off to put on boxers
while everyone gathered around. Some of the presents had been pretty awesome.
Ryuji had gotten new running shoes from Haru, which he definitely got teary
eyed over. Ann got a matching designer suitcase and purse from Sae and Makoto,
so she could travel in more style than she already did. Yusuke got expensive
brushes from Futaba, acrylic paints from Sojiro and an easel from Akira. They'd
gone together to the arts store. Sojiro had gotten a slew of World's Greatest
Dad items from everyone. including an apron, mug, snap back cap, shirt and
bumper sticker. He had laughed, only crying a little bit and thanked his seven
adopted children. Haru was gifted with tons of gardening supplies. Akira and
Haru both got a bit emotional when Sojiro handed them over certificates naming
them as co-owners of LeBlanc, right along side him. Morgana was too high on cat
nip to open any of his other presents, instead choosing to lay on his back in
Ann's lap, dazed. 
 
The most memorable presents in his mind were the last three. First, Akira
opened up his gift from Futaba. A tablet with a stylus. He was amazed by the
forethought she had, especially since he had recently decided to take business
classes to get better at managing the store. What was on that tablet was even
more special. A slideshow of important memories started when they went to the
beach together that first time, sent to Futaba by everyone, even Mishima. Some
of the entries were photos. Some were screenshots of text messages. There were
even sketches and paintings of personas, Mementos, some palaces, all made by
Yusuke. His favorite entry was one neither he or Futaba knew existed until she
started making the slides: a picture of the two of them cuddled up in the Nest,
with Morgana and Futaba both fast asleep on Akira's chest. It was darling. He
had no shame wiping the tears away after that one.
 
He didn't have to wait long to pay her back. The gift at first looked like a
decently large box. When she opened that box there was another, smaller box
inside, much to Ryuji's amusement. There was a box in that box too. And that
box. Futaba got frustrated after the 5th box, screaming threats about what she
would do if there wasn't anything in the last box. Haru had started filming,
which he was somehow happy and scared about. Since, when she finally got to the
last box, there was no doubt in anyone's mind what could be small enough to fit
in it. Her hands paused on it, shaking a bit. Futaba met his eyes, looking part
scared and part awed. Akira could feel Sojiro's eyes drilling into his head. 
 
Taking pity on Futaba, he came to sit beside her. "Don't look at me like that.
You're the one that proposed to me, remember?" The ensuing screams were
deafening. He waited until Haru got them all to quiet down before continuing,
"This isn't a proposal. Nor an engagement ring. We both agreed that's a bit far
off. But, you made me a promise that you were willing to fight alongside me
until the day comes when we think we are ready for that. So, this is me
reciprocating that promise. Yes, with a ring." 
 
He helped Futaba's unsteady hands unwrap and open the box. Inside, sat a simple
gold band with a small emerald in it. It wasn't nearly the quality of an
engagement ring, but it was still pretty nice. Futaba marveled at it quietly,
tears starting to run down her cheeks. Sniffling, she held out her left hand to
him. Akira pressed a kiss against her lips as he slid it onto her finger and
the room again burst into confusion and chaos. Nearly everyone crowded around
Futaba to see the ring. He received punches and hugs (but mostly punches) from
the still shell shocked group. Haru kissed his cheek and said she sent the
video to him. Sojiro was standing quietly, eyes on his. Akira stared back,
awaiting whatever judgement there would be. Instead, Sojiro drew him into a
tight hug, which he heartily returned.
 
"Don't you dare break her heart, Akira."
 
He smiled to himself, half-joking, "It's the most valuable thing I ever stole
as a Phantom Thief. I would never break it."
 
They broke away, both grinning. Futaba ran headfirst into Sojiro's arms, eyes
shining brighter than stars. The older man laughed at her tangible joy and
fixed her with a glance. "Same goes for you. Don't you break his heart either.
He's my kid too."
 
Futaba's smile somehow got bigger and she nodded, hugging Sojiro tighter,
causing him to wheeze.
 
Looking around, he couldn't help but notice there was one more gift. "Hey,
guys, sorry. I know we kinda just overloaded everyone with emotions. We have
one more though."
 
Haru shot him a grateful smile and handed the gift to Makoto. It was a small
bag with colored tissue paper in it. "For you," she beamed.
 
Makoto giggled, pushing some of her shoulder length hair behind her ear. When
she dug into the bag, she pulled out a key. Everyone in the room held their
breath. It looked like a car key. Futaba and Akira's eyes met, shocked. The
only cars outside when they got back were Sojiro and Sae's.
 
"This way," Haru smiled, leading the way to the front door. Everyone filed
outside to find a truck waiting out front. In the bed of that truck, sat a
sleek, black and blue motorcycle. The two men unstrapped the bike and walked it
up to the entrance of the driveway. Once Haru had signed for the delivery and
let the men go on their way, she turned to Makoto, looking almost bashful.
"Don't say I didn't have to. I know I didn't. I wanted to. You're one of the
most important people in my life and the thing I love most about you is how you
aren't afraid of my...rougher side like most people are. Or your own. You as
Queen was one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. And you may not have
your persona Johanna anymore...but it would be criminal to never see you on
motorcycle ever again." Haru paused, chuckling nervously. "Merry Christmas,
Mako-chan."
 
Akira blinked, trying to process what was happening. Did Haru just...confess?
To Makoto? No one else looked less shocked or confused. He theorized that
Morgana might have known, but he was dead to the world at the moment. Before
anyone could do or say anything, Makoto squared her shoulders, took three large
steps forward to close the gap between the two women. The brunette's hands
tangled in the curly strawberry blond tresses and with zero hesitation, she
kissed Haru straight on the mouth.  Apparently, that had indeed been a
confession. And by the ferocious nature of that kiss, Makoto had accepted. Hot
damn. It was almost too intimate to watch, Akira thought, blushing.
 
All was quiet until the girls broke away from one another, both panting and
looking terribly debauched. Makoto, looking more like Queen than ever, shot
them a cold, threatening look. "Got something to say?"
 
"Holy fuck!" Of course Ryuji would be the first to speak up.
 
"That was ADORABLE, Haru!" Ann cheered, smile a mile wide.
 
Yusuke started muttering about the wonders of love and ran back inside to fetch
a sketch book. Futaba and Sojiro were shaking their heads, complaining about
damn dramatic kids and their romance, funny coming from Futaba who still held
her left hand to her heart. Sae looked impressed, if anything, and went over to
inspect the bike. 
 
At some point, Makoto and Akira headed inside to start cooking. The rest of
their Christmas was a blanket of warm contentment. The food was amazing,
especially after Sojiro butt in to help. Yusuke made a surprisingly delicious
white chocolate peppermint milkshake, which Akira had three of throughout the
evening. There were blinding smiles and tons of cuddling among all parties.
Akira admittedly couldn't help but glance at Futaba repeatedly throughout the
night. She never once disappointed: if her eyes weren't glued to her ring
finger, her other hand idly twirled the ring around as she occupied herself
elsewhere. The radiant smile upon her face never faded.  Truly, it had been an
epic Christmas for all Guild members, the perfect way to celebrate what had
been a fantastic year all around.
 
He hoped there would be even better ones yet to come.
Chapter End Notes
     Well. That's a thing. Yay for super emotional, fluffy events that
     were never planned for!! And you all finally know the last couple
     now: Makoto and Haru. Did any of you guess that? I flip flopped a lot
     between having Makoto end up with Ann or Haru, but the deciding
     factor was an unrelated tumblr post I saw. It said something along
     the lines of "We find those whose inner demons look like ours most
     attractive." In a way, this can be true of the whole group, but in
     particular, the hidden aggression in both Makoto and Haru has
     interested me for awhile. After returning to a life of being a sweet,
     polite college student, would Makoto yearn to put a fist through
     something ever? Did Haru ever have lingering hostility towards men,
     or adults in general, due to her past? I thought the best way to
     explore these topics would be to have the girls examine them
     together. I'd appreciate your opinions on this choice a lot.
     I do plan on making at least one chapter to explain the background
     relations of each background couples in Tales from the Thieves'
     Guild. After that, I'm going to mark Tales as complete, though I may
     occasionally add chapters. I just hate starting fics I don't plan to
     or know how to finish, so technically, after the background
     relationships are explained, the story will be "done". Thank you all
     so much for your support! You're all wonderful! Please continue to
     support me as I try to wrap this all up.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     The Christmas season had been fantastic for her and Akira's
     relationship. If any time in their relationship was going to be
     denoted as the "honeymoon period", this would have been it. It was
     honestly hard to image how either of them could keep the ball rolling
     after such an emotionally intimate month, but Futaba was on a quest,
     damnit. She was going to finish that promised list if it was the last
     thing she did.
     Luckily for her, between her own ideas and Akira's, completing that
     list would be as pleasurable as having her dessert...and eating it
     too. With special focus on the eating part.
Chapter Notes
     Holy shit guys! I did it. I'm so sorry it took so long. I have very
     little excuse except that...writing smut is kinda hard when you're
     not in the mood to do so. Oh yeah, in case I haven't implied this
     enough, this chapter is roughly 7k words of smut and 3k words of
     connecting fluff :3 Thanks for sticking with the story all this time.
     Without your support, I wouldn't have pushed myself to get through
     this monster of a chapter. You guys rock. Please enjoy!
     Like before, ~X~X~ means time skip between items on the checklist.
     ~~~ means time skip still pertaining to that checklist item.
     Italics is used to denote past conversations. I haven't bolded any of
     the checklist items in this chapter because it didn't fit anywhere
     nicely.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The Christmas season had been fantastic for her and Akira's relationship.  If
any time in their relationship was going to be denoted as the "honeymoon
period", this would have been it.  It was honestly hard to image how either of
them could keep the ball rolling after such an emotionally intimate month, but
Futaba was on a quest, damnit.  She was going to finish that promised list if
it was the last thing she did.  That being said, she wasn't the only person
with goals to complete.
 
Akira had been on a quest of his own for the past month. Now that Futaba was
comfortable with both being naked near him and letting his touch roam between
her legs, he had made it his life's work to explore every nook and cranny of
her folds, to decipher what buttons she had and which were best to push. Futaba
was almost embarrassed to admit how good he was at it already. Never mind her
obvious obsession with his hands, but it was really really hard to say no to
the combination of puppy dog eyes and him begging her to let him finger her
with said magic hands.  That was just the sort of request no sane person says
no to.
 
They'd learned all sorts of things about her likes and dislikes in the past
month. For instance, her nipples were about 1/4 as sensitive as Akira's. Futaba
enjoyed literally any physical attention she got, but in terms of pleasure?
Ineffective. (Akira on the other hand could actually be brought to orgasm by a
clever, hot mouth on one side and an ice cube on the other. Don't ask how that
one came up.) Foreplay was absolutely necessary for any amount of fooling
around. It took quite a bit of losing herself in mindless kissing and touching
before her lower muscles were lax enough for any interaction. Once they were,
she greatly enjoyed having at least one finger in her, curling occasionally to
brush the infamous G spot.
 
"Does, ah, the G in G spot stand for good? Mmm."
 
"Uh...you ask good questions, Futaba. Sadly, my hands are currently too full of
G spot to reach my phone. Elsewise I'd gladly Google it."
 
"Nah, I got it. Ooh that was good, right there. You keep doing God's work. I'll
figure this shit out."
 
"You think Makoto Googles things when she and Haru are in bed? She strikes me
as the type."
 
"Dude, with how kinky Haru is, I don't see how Makoto can even think. Oh! It's
actually a guy's name. Grafenburg spot. Wikipedia says it's still only a myth."
 
"That's...less sexy than I was hoping for."
 
"Agreed."
 
Penetration by itself was good to get her going. Futaba could appreciate the
stretch of her muscles around an unyielding object as being hot as hell. They'd
yet to get her off on that alone, which Haru had explained was pretty normal.
Apparently, most women needed some sort of clitoris stimulation before
achieving orgasm. That worked just fine for Akira, since it was his favorite
button to push. Her noises were always loudest, body movements always most
desperate when he assaulted her clit with a skilled thumb. Her personal
favorite way to orgasm was with two fingers stretching her wide open, while his
thumb wreaked havoc on her senses with gentle circular motions.
 
Futaba was not one to bemoan a good thing. Akira's dedication to her ecstasy
was the best part of her evenings. Only issue was: he was spending so much time
experimenting between her thighs, she had had no good chances to do the same.
To clarify, it wasn't that he wouldn't let her touch him. Oh no. She would
sooner die than let him walk away from their encounters without having reached
that same pinnacle of pleasure. And he was more than happy to indulge her. More
so, the two of them both fed more off the excitement of one another than their
own physical enjoyment. So, by the time Futaba could wrap her fingers around
Akira's pulsing member, it was usually all over within one or two thrusts.
 
After a straight month of her getting her mind scrambled by talented fingers,
she was more than ready to get some revenge. What better way to do that than by
upping the ante? She already knew what she wanted to do. The only trouble was
she couldn't imagine trying it without at least getting some advice, maybe
running some simulations. It wasn't until Ann and Haru summoned her once more
for a girl's night that she truly began her preparations.
 
"Can I ask a weird, potentially awkward question?"
 
Haru smiled to herself, filing down Ann's fingernails. "As the official sexual
confidant of your relationship, I am always ready and willing to field such
questions."
 
"I was wondering about that myself," Ann mused, "I get why Akira comes to you
for advice, but are you even interested in guys anymore, Haru?"
 
Haru's gaze was sharp.  "Because I'm dating a woman, suddenly I shouldn't be
interested in men?"
 
"Oh! I...I didn't mean it like...!"
 
"No, it's alright. I understand. My previous experience with a man was
absolutely appalling. It makes sense that you'd wonder if that has effected my
sexual preferences. In truth, I have found that I very much like penises, but
not always the people attached to them. All my knowledge may come from
pornography, but it's still knowledge, is it not?"
 
"Hell yeah," Futaba piped up, finished with her work on Ann's left foot.
"Better than having to search through all the porn on pornhub to find decent
examples, if literally nothing else."
 
Ann looked sheepish after her verbal faux pax, "That's true. So what did you
want to know, Futaba?"
 
"I want to learn how to give a decent blow job."
 
It said a lot about their friendship that none of them blushed after hearing
that.  Ann gave her a sly smile for her trouble, though.
 
"Damn.  Akira's gonna be one happy guy soon."
 
Haru giggled.  "He's always one happy guy, now-a-days.  He's been on cloud nine
since Christmas."  The teasing look in her eye told Futaba that Haru knew
exactly why that was too.  Thus was the struggles of living with your and your
partner's best friends, she supposed.  "Why not just practice with him?  I'm
sure he'd be a very informative teacher."
 
Futaba sighed, "Yeah, but I can't really imagine this as being something that
would come easily to me.  And like...what if I gag or something? That's anti-
sexy."
 
"I agree," Ann nodded.  "My first blow job was a hot mess. Practicing
definitely helps."
 
"I just don't think that Akira-kun will care much," Haru reasoned.
 
"Oh he definitely won't," Futaba confirmed.  "But I might.  I want to knock his
socks off."
 
Ann snickered, "You mean blow his brains out?"
 
"Exactly!"
 
Thus began her study under the great, wise and shameless Ann Takamaki on the
topic of how to deliver the world's best BJ. Honestly, it felt like a weird
hybrid between a training montage in a wrestling film and a shitty porno. They
started small: popsicles and bananas, the most phallic shaped things you want
to shove in your mouth and can eat. The goal was to get the tip to touch her
throat without gagging and to not leave any teeth marks. Wasn't too hard (pun
very much intended). Tasty even. Though, she did make a note to not practice
anywhere Akira could see her. As it was, she and Ann were walked in on by
Morgana once, who stared at them for a whole minute before shaking his head.
 "I don't even want to know."
 
The next step was something a little closer to scale. Haru helpfully offered to
tackle the arduous task of purchasing a dildo with all the desired qualities: a
bit bigger than her approximation of Akira's size, silicone, and in some
abysmal neon color so that anyone who found it (Sojiro) would instantly be more
embarrassed than Futaba for laying eyes on it. The final choice had been
bright, highlighter pink and exceptionally scary looking, but Futaba had gone
about her exercises all the same. This time though, Ann coached her through a
crash course in deep throating.
 
"Is that even a real thing? Be honest."
 
"Not as necessary or common as porn implies, but definitely a skill to be proud
of. You'll be well rewarded for your efforts!"
 
"Gonna need a source for this fact, ma'am."
 
Futaba would never forget the smirk on her friend's face as Ann Takamaki ruined
her evening and upset her stomach by smirking "Ryuji Sakamoto."
 
After she had dabbled in that topic to the extent she felt comfortable with,
Futaba and Haru did a bit more research on one last component. There was only
one good way to practice this one and it was probably the most awkward and
embarrassing thing she'd ever done. And a bit painful too. But, she figured,
having a grab bag of possible tricks to use to have Akira begging for more was
always a good thing. Besides, she was 98% positive he would be into this one.
 
With all of her desired preparations done, and seemingly no hint that Akira was
aware of her plotting, it was only a matter of picking the right time to spring
it on him. Luckily, time was on her side for once: it was almost Valentine's
day. Normally, she would have begun their now well understood process of
acquiring the room for their own dastardly deeds, but this time, Ann made it
easy for her.
 
"Ryuji won't be sleeping in your room on Wednesday. Just in case you were
wondering," the blond casually declared over breakfast, causing Makoto to snort
her coffee in slight alarm.
 
Haru patted her poor girlfriend's back and chirped, "How nice for you two."
 
"Yeah, about time," Futaba scoffed.
 
Makoto moaned sadly into her drink, "Oh god. He's going to be so damn obnoxious
about this, isn't he?"
 
"Considering they've been copulating for the last two weeks with almost nightly
regularity, I'd say you would have noticed any personality changes by now,
Makoto," Yusuke pipped up.
 
"God, no, stop!" Makoto jerked out of her seat, walking swiftly towards her
room. "I do not accept this as reality!"
 
Akira blinked up from his cup of coffee, smiling tiredly, "You'd think she'd be
used to Thief Family incest by now."
 
Haru took the opportunity to finish the rest of Makoto's coffee. "As the
experienced party here, I will say that I doubt she will ever be comfortable
talking about sex openly. Regardless of who is having the sex in question."
Gathering the dishes, Haru and Akira took their leave, promising to talk to
Sojiro about Valentine's day sleepover arrangements.
 
Once they had left, Ann turned to Futaba and grinned, "So wanna make some
chocolate covered bananas?"
 
Futaba loved her friends.
 
~~~
 
Akira wouldn't consider himself to be stupid.  Typically.
 
It could be argued that he was only good at learning certain things.  He was a
hands-on learner by nature.  If he could see how something worked and try it
out himself, he was 100% more likely to never forget it. Sometimes he needed
memory aids to be able to retain theory and school subjects long enough to pass
a test.  Sue him.  He still got the top scores on every test at Shujin.  So,
yeah, he wasn't stupid.  He could take hints, notice signs.
 
And all signs, every single damn one of them, were screaming at the top of
their lungs that Futaba Sakura wanted to suck his dick.
 
Honestly, it wasn't hard to figure out.  Subtlety wasn't exactly Futaba's
forte, but Akira very much doubted that she was making any attempt to be subtle
in the first place.  They were currently cuddled up on the bed watching an
American comedy movie literally titled "They Came Together."  It was actually
pretty funny, even though he couldn't understand the jokes entirely due to lack
of English knowledge and awful subtitles.  But, the reference wasn't lost on
him.  That being said, Futaba's choice of snack was probably the biggest hint.
 She had made him a couple different chocolate treats for Valentine's Day, but
was currently stuffing a chocolate coated banana down her throat.  What she was
doing to that poor banana could under no circumstances be called "eating".
 More like "sexually abusing".  It was damn good luck that he was a huge fan of
both chocolate and bananas because when she inevitably decided to stop teasing
him and start kissing him, she was going to taste amazing.  Though, her attempt
at gaining his interest was succeeding.  The noises coming from that little
mouth were grossly obscene.  And his hormone driven brain had no trouble
whatsoever falling for the bait and inserting the mental image of his dick in
place of the banana.  He had been at half mast for the last twenty minutes.  At
least.
 
Which Futaba would know, since she had one of her knees pressed right against
it.  Rubbing in small, almost unnoticeable circles.  Going infuriatingly
slowly.
 
Akira was just starting to wonder if her goal was to get him to lose all grips
on reality and throw himself at her when the movie ended.  Futaba finally
ceased her torture, of both him and the banana, by sitting up and finishing off
the poor fruit in three huge bites.  He gulped in time with Futaba's loud
swallow, sending a silent Rest in Peace to the brave soul that dealt w being
intimately between Futaba's lips for thirty minutes without exploding.  He very
much doubted he'd be as successful.
 
"Well that was an interesting movie choice," Akira quipped, eyes glued to where
Futaba's tongue was licking at her chops.
 
One slender eyebrow rose.  "You were paying attention?  Must not have been
making my point as clear as I needed to then."
 
Akira shot her a smirk, reaching up to swipe her glasses off her face.  "Oh you
were crystal clear.  In fact, you probably could have settled for showing me
the movie title and your cute little treats and I would have gotten the
message.  No need to prolong the death of that unfortunate banana."
 
"And miss out on watching you squirm through the sex scenes and jumping every
time I made a noise?  Hard pass."
 
"Speaking of hard, don't you think it's time to...Free Willy?"
 
Snorting, Futaba shook her head.  "Is that the movie with the whale?  Talk
about bragging."  Still giggling a bit, Futaba scooted back to the edge of the
bed and crooked her finger at him.  "C'mere you.  I've got one more Valentine's
Day gift to give you."
 
"Ohh boy," he drawled playfully, trying to hide how eagerly he leaped into
position at the bed's bottom.  "I have absolutely no clue what this present
could be."  His smile was fond, even as the petite girl came to stand in front
of him, hands tangling in his hair, eyes molten hot.
 
"Let's just say this gift is banana tested, Akira approved."
 
Futaba swallowed his answering laugh with zeal, tasting just as fantastic as he
had hoped she would.  At this point, kissing Futaba was as easy as breathing
for Akira.  Their natural rhythm tended to be slow, sensual, tongues flowing
like water between two joined mouths.  Tonight, Futaba's touches lingered.  Her
fingers didn't simply move down his neck, they danced, drawing elaborate
patterns with feather-light touches.  He was dying to get on with it already,
having been ready to go since their mouths first met.  But, there was this
unspoken rule in their encounters that both parties were loath to break: good
things come to those that wait.  Akira and Futaba both put tons of forethought
into trying new things in bed.  So while Akira knew that at the end of the day,
Futaba would probably have her mouth on him, he also knew that her movements
were precise.  She wanted him to be in a certain place first emotionally,
mentally, and physically.  Who was he to interrupt her plan?
 
By the time he had shed the last of his clothes, he was practically panting.
 Roaming fingers had pinched, pressed and poked at just about every part of him
available, except of course his member, which was a deep red and leaking.  He
ached for her attention, whining pathetically when her fingers left his body as
she stood.  The flush of Futaba's cheeks told him that she wasn't as unaffected
by this as she pretended to be.  Still clothed, movements unhurried, she was
confidence personified.  That made him want her even more.  "Futaba," he
groaned, hips thrusting up at nothing.  "Please?"
 
An affectionate smile spread across her lips.  "You're desperate enough to beg,
huh?"  He had no shame about nodding frantically.  "Poor baby," she cooed.  She
walked briskly over to her overnight bag, abandoned on the floor by the door.
 A couple moments of digging around and she was strutting back to his prone
form, the object of her search hidden behind her back.  "I wasn't sure if you
would want to do this or not.  I figured you'd enjoy it, but it may be a bit
much for a first time try.  So, it's your call, okay?"
 
Akira blinked at her, fog starting to dissipate a bit from his mind.  "Yeah.
 What am I deciding on?"
 
Biting her bottom lip, Futaba revealed the item to be a bottle of lubricant.
 He blinked again, not entirely sure about what the implications of her having
lube were for this particular evening.  Had he been wrong about the blowjob
thing?  She sated his curiosity after a beat, "My original plan was to blow
you, which you know already.  But, back when I was giving porn a try, I noticed
that in gay porn, one of the guys usually fingered the other while doing it."
 Akira's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his whole body jolting at the mental
image.  Futaba hastily moved to ease the shock, "We definitely don't have to!
 Like I said, it may be a bit much.  But prostrate massages are apparently
pretty amazing and reddit says the best way to get someone used to the stretch
is to do both at the same time, so...yeah.  If this is something you're
interested in, I absolutely don't mind doing it."
 
Akira's first coherent thought was that his girlfriend was extremely dangerous.
 Of all the things he expected her to offer, a prostate massage had certainly
not been among them.  Honestly, he wouldn't have been surprised or offended if
blow jobs never were something she was interested in.  Both of these things at
the same time?  Very likely to kill him.  The way she spoke implied that she
had done some research into the subject though, which meant it would certainly
be a fantastic way to go if nothing else.  He supposed it would be a gamble.
 As it was he had been pretty worked up.  Agreeing had the potential to go way
passed the comfortable level of surprise to instantly overstimulated, which
would not be fun.  He hadn't ever been brave enough to try it out himself, so
he honestly had no clue what it would be like.
 
That didn't mean it wasn't a thought that had haunted his every waking moment
while in junior high.  His wildest fantasies about the muscular forms he spied
on in locker rooms and across hallways had never featured him being the
assertive one, but rather with his back to a wall, legs thrown around shoulders
or hips.  In his darkest whimsies, he was bent of the teacher's desk and
pounded until he was suddenly the most religious kid in Kyoto.  The last few
years, he had kicked those thoughts under the bed, even further than they
already had been.  But now, Futaba was dangling a piece of those dreams in
front of his face like the apple the screwed over Adam.  She couldn't possibly
know the depth of his feelings on this matter...
 
But he honestly couldn't be blamed for biting into the forbidden fruit offered
so generously to him.
 
"You really don't mind?" he hedged, needing to be absolutely sure.  Futaba
nodded, sweet smile on display.  "I haven't, uh...cleaned or anything."
 
"Do you think that will be an issue?"
 
He considered this, sat up a bit, wiggled his hips.  Nothing he could feel.  He
had relieved himself before the movie started and dinner had been light.  "Not
a major one.  I have no idea how things linger though...I've never..."  He
blushed.
 
"I was going to put down a towel anyway, just in case.  If you don't feel
anything, you're probably fine.  I never had much of a problem when I was
practicing."
 
Akira's jaw dropped.  Would the surprises never cease?  "You...practiced?"
 
Futaba nodded, fetching an old towel from the bathroom.  "Well, yeah!  I didn't
wanna hurt you, dummy.  Not many good ways to test this out aside from doing it
to myself.  Couldn't practice finding a prostate obviously, ya know, since I
don't have one."  She passed the towel to him, which he accepted and planted
under himself.  "Shouldn't be that bad, though.  I'm pretty sure we'll both
know when I find it."
 
Nodding, more to himself than her, Akira went through his pros and cons one
final time.  Futaba's expression was open and excited.  The proposal was
suddenly, but she wasn't rushing into this.  He brought himself back to their
unspoken rule.  Her goal was to shatter his world in the best way possible and
she had done everything she could to ensure it would succeed.  He trusted her
enough that his own lingering worries were nothing compared to the hot flash of
want that coursed through him.  He wiggled his way to the edge of the bed,
propping a pillow under his head.  "Alright.  I'm all yours.  Have your way
with me."
 
Futaba's eyes narrowed, playful confidence returning in full force.  "Oh," she
chuckled, "I intent to."
 
Her left hand splayed against his stomach, bare of the ring that normally made
its home there.  He knew for a fact that it was currently on a chain around her
neck, tucked under her shirt.  Idly, he wondered how much of a turn on it would
be to see that ring residing on her finger as she stroked his length.  That
thought, and all others, were erased from his head by that hand sliding down to
grip him tightly.  He gasped as she gave two quick, firm jerks.  Her eyes
remained focused on his as she leaned down to kiss his left thigh.  Her hands
disappeared from sight as her mouth journeyed up, biting slightly when the
click of a cap opening made him stiffen.  Being the queen of nerves and
trepidation herself, Futaba was very good at realizing what things could freak
someone out and distracting them from it.  Her nose nuzzling the base of his
penis eased any tension in his spine born of anticipation from the way her arms
pushed his legs as far apart as they went.
 
The first press of a slick finger against his opening was jarring.  That area
being wet was...usually not a pleasant thing.  But the lube had been properly
warmed and the finger made no effort to press in.  She merely drew circles
methodically, drawing his attention away from the sensation by licking a hot
stripe up his dick.  The very tip of her tongue lingered at the head, circling
the head in the opposite direction her finger was going in.  The dual
sensations were heady, drawing a long groan from him.  His hole twitched, no
longer wary of her presence at his entrance.  Her mouth opened wide and closed
firmly around the head of his member, tongue swirling wonderfully.  He was so
lost to the feeling that he didn't even notice that her finger had pressed in
until he was clenching around it.  
 
Akira's eyes shot to hers, slightly stunned.  Futaba pulled off of him briefly,
"This okay?"
 
Breathless, Akira huffed, "Yeah, yeah, just...feels weird."
 
"Bad weird?"
 
Her breath brushed over his sensitive, wet skin as she spoke.  When he
shivered, he could feel her finger in him.  It felt bigger than it was, muscles
not used to the intrusion.  Still, the pressure was like nothing he'd ever felt
before.  His balls ached a bit just thinking about it.  "Good weird," he
decided, laying back again.  "Think you can make it great weird?"
 
Futaba's lips moved against his length as she answered, "I can sure as hell
try."
 
Her lips wrapped around him once more, bobbing her head to take more of him in
as she removed her finger a bit, then pressed it in again.  Akira honestly
wasn't sure which action was drawing the breath from his lungs in such needy
gasps, but he did know he needed more.  In no time, the once foreign presence
in him felt nice, really nice.  Every now and then, a spark of....something
would run through him.  It wasn't quite enough as is.  "Futaba, another," he
pleaded, keening as her mouth dutifully sucked as she heeded his request.  She
stilled her hands to let him adjust, but her mouth kept up its assault on his
sense.  Akira honestly wondered why he wasn't closer to orgasm yet, but it was
likely the way his brain struggled to comprehend the fingering balancing out
the intoxicating pleasure of her mouth.  When she next thrust into him, his
back arched from the feeling of being pleasantly full.  There was something, a
bit deeper.  If only she could...
 
"Oh, God! There!"  His moan was wanton, shameless, and way louder than he
intended.  But, damn, that felt fucking good.  He felt Futaba try to smirk
around him, humming to herself and making him shudder from the vibrations
alone.  Suddenly, his muscles were fighting to keep her in, not push her out,
his whole body craving more contact.  Futaba's mouth took more and more of him
in with every bob of her head.  The press of her tongue against the base
combined with the electric exquisite agony that was her fingers abusing his
prostate pushed his head into a daze.  When Futaba slid a third finger into
him, there was no discomfort, only molten heat he could feel in his toes.
 Akira could imagine just how wrecked he looked, head thrown back, mouth
gaping, hands fisted in the sheets.  He was doing his best to be quiet, but
most of his noises were entirely out of his control.  Futaba was a demon
puppeteer, yanking her strings and drawing desperate cries from his mouth.  He
was a slave to the sensations she made him feel, but he gladly let her control
his shackles.  The tension in his balls reached a fever point.  "F-Futaba,
I'm...ahh."
 
Rather than pull off like he expected, Futaba pushed those last few inches deep
into her throat.   Akira lost himself to a harsh swallow around his head and a
well-aimed, sharp twist of her fingers into his sweet spot.  White spots
consumed his vision entirely.  He stared sightless at the ceiling, body still
twitching from the aftershocks.  Akira could register a squelch as Futaba freed
her hand from him.  A light switch being flicked and the sink turning on.  A
warm, damp wash cloth against his rear, thighs, and fading erection.  His mind
registered only the bare minimum of information needed, body growing heavier
and heavier by the second.  He drifted in and out, pleasantly washed away by
the afterglow. The bed dipped as Futaba settled down onto it, no longer wearing
her day clothes but rather her pajamas.  He blinked, trying to piece together
when she did that.  
 
A thought occurred to him rather frantically, "Oh!  You...I didn't, do you want
me to...?"
 
Futaba grinned and kissed his forehead, pushing him to lay back down.  "Already
taken care of.  You seemed...out of it."
 
"But," he muttered, frowning.  Futaba shook her head and kissed his forehead
again.
 
"Nuh uh.  You may not have caused it directly, but tonight's orgasm was
definitely sponsored by your generous and multitudinous reactions."
 
"Was I that interesting to watch?"
 
"Ohhh man.  Babe, Inari would kill to be able to paint someone in as much
ecstasy as you seemed to be.  And that's probably putting it lightly."
 
Akira grinned sleepily.  "Much ecstasy.  A slightly ridiculous amount,
actually.  Thank you.  You're amazing and all of your ideas rock."
 
"Careful there, Akira.  You might pop the ego balloon if you put too much hot
air in it," Futaba joked.
 
They sat in silence for a bit, both enjoying just being close, when a buzzing
noise caught Akira's attention.  He cracked an eye open to see his phone's
light on from the dresser.  Ordinarily, he would have opted to ignore it, but
the buzzes didn't stop coming.  What the hell?  Futaba dug her phone out of the
sheets, looking at it for a brief moment before bursting out into loud,
uncontrollable laughter.  The redhead rolled back, arms covering her face,
still chuckling when Akira picked up her phone to see that the notifications
were from their group chat.
 
Oh.


                                     From: Skull Bash in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
                                                      DAYUM SON!! GET IT AKIRA!


                                  From: Black Panther in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
        I'm so proud of you Futaba.  You go, girl.  Give it to him, good, baby.


                                    From: Dream Queen in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
                                                                      Oh god...


                                      From: Cafe Noir in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
      Oh!  Have never heard those noises before.  I take it he liked your extra
                                                                 surprise then?


                                     From: Skull Bash in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
     You mother fuckers are kinky, man.  I don't even wanna know what the extra
                                                                   surprise is.


                                  From: Black Panther in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
                                                         Pfft. Your loss, dude.


                                     From: Skull Bash in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
                                                            WAIT I TAKE IT BACK


                                    From: Dream Queen in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
 Okay, they stopped.  Can we stop talking about it in the group chat now and go
  to sleep?  Please?  See?  Yusuke's ignoring this and sleeping.  So should we.


                                       From: Star Fox in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
       Actually, this whole experience has been wonderful for my muse.  The raw
    emotions, though only audible, were sensational.  I simply must immortalize
                                                                          them.


                                    From: Dream Queen in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
                                                                  ...I give up.


                                                                From: Cafe Noir
                                                                               
   Don't worry, Mako-chan.  I'll make you forget aaaaall about what's happening
                                                                      upstairs.


                                     From: Skull Bash in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
                                                                      Holy fuck


                                  From: Black Panther in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
                                                               Smooth af, Haru.


                                      From: Cafe Noir in Phantom Leaves (Group)
                                                                               
                                                             Night, everyone ;)


Akira blinked at the screen, caught somewhere between mortified, amused and
proud.  Futaba had stopped laughing and was now reading over his shoulder.
 "Was I really that loud?"
 
"Pfft, uh, yeah.  The moans heard 'round the world."  At Akira's slight frown,
Futaba quickly amended, "It was good though!  Really good.  Like, god tier
spank bank material.  I was able to get myself off for the first time because
of it.  So seriously: well done."
 
Akira cast a look at Futaba up through his eyelashes.  "Would I perhaps...be
able to return the favor?"
 
Futaba's face flushed instantly.  "Would...we be able to work up to that?
 Maybe?"
 
"Of course."
 
"Then yes, absolutely.  For now though, I'm exhausted.  Sleep?"
 
The next week was filled with gratuitous references to Akira's "opera worthy
lungs" and laughter at his expense, but it was alright.  If that was the price
he paid for getting his brain screwed out of him, he was more than willing to
pay it.  And this time, the jokes were much more tasteful and less annoying
than the previous infamous sex scandal.  In fact, he didn't even mind that
Futaba was joining in on the friendly ribbing.  
 
After all, he smirked, he'd get her back in due time.


~x~x~
 
They were relaxing in the bathtub when the idea struck him. Of all of their new
rituals, Akira found himself enjoying the baths more than most others (the real
undisputed winner was naked nap time). Part of it must have been that the two
actions in and of themselves were appealing to him, this much he was aware of.
But seeing Futaba so at ease, body slack and content in her state of relaxation
was the much more attractive feature. Their progress so far had been
impressive, to say the least. There hadn't been a single time in any of their
recent heated rendezvous that either party had gone unsatisfied. Honestly,
Akira would not have been surprised if Futaba announced that she wanted to go
all the way within that upcoming week.
 
Still though, Akira wasn't sure if he wanted to take that step before
addressing Futaba's obvious embarrassment over having her legs spread while
nude. Even now, with the water to shield her and body otherwise relaxed, they
stayed tightly closed. It wasn't that he didn't understand the reaction, he
totally did. Being that completely exposed and knowing there were hungry eyes
watching was overwhelming. He still shivered in memory of Futaba’s heated gaze
peering up at him from between his own legs.  In his brief inquiry to Dr.
Takemi about the concept, she had revealed that even she, who considered
herself a seasoned woman as far as sex went, got uncomfortable with the
prospect from time to time. As with all things, though, the more often Futaba
experienced that sensation with pleasurable ends, the less often her thighs
would slam shut upon removal of her panties. It was a matter of habit and of
trust.
 
Trust. The word stuck in his head. Getting Futaba to surrender her control over
herself was appealing for multiple reasons, he reckoned, adjusting himself so
his slight erection wouldn't bother his partner. Primarily, though, it could
give them a chance to explore this idea without making the experience weird and
clinical. His eyes fell to Futaba's wrists, hanging over the edge of the tub.
Slowly, he brought his own hands up, wrapping his fingers gently around the
small joints. Almost like shackles...
 
Now there was an idea.
 
"Care to share your kinky thoughts with the class, Sir Pokes-A-Lot?" Futaba
quipped, amused.
 
"Mm. Sorry," he kissed the crown of her head, "I think you might like my idea
though."
 
Futaba leaned her head back further against his chest, tilting her head up to
make eye contact. "Oh? Do tell."
 
"It's a trust exercise," he smirked.
 
"Ok? That tells me basically nothing. But I guess that is kinda the point. Is
it a now type of exercise or a later type?"
 
He smiled, kissing her cheek and then her temple. "Definitely later. I'll ask
Ryuji if we could have the room for an evening any time soon and let you know.
Think you could sweet talk Father Dearest into letting you spend a night?"
 
Futaba blushed. "Sleepover worthy?  And you're calling it a trust exercise?
 Dunno if I should be scared or excited for what pelvic sorcery your dirty head
has imagined."
 
"Relax Gamora, I promise there's nothing to fear. Just 'trust' me, as the title
requests, and I shall not disappoint you. Besides, if you don't end up liking
it, I'm positive we can think of another way to spend our evening."
 
"Very nice reference catch, Quil. Alrighty. I'll see what I can do. But this
exercise of yours had better make me see stars, Starlord."
 
"Ugh. Sweety, I love you, but unless you're willing to cite 'cringe-worthy
Guardians of the Galaxy themed sex talk' as the reason you missed the train, we
had better get out of this tub."
 
That night, after Futaba had safely returned home (and sent him several more
texts of her special brand of equally filthy and nerdy wit), Akira wandered
downstairs and peeked his head into the girls' room.
 
"Hey Haru."
 
"Hi, Akira. What's up?" Haru looked up from her book, smiling up at him
sleepily. He could hear the tell tale sounds of Makoto humming in the shower.
 
"Would you mind accompanying me on an incredibly awkward shopping trip
tomorrow?"
 
Haru's eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement. "Ooh. My absolute favorite
type of shopping. I'd be delighted."
 
"Thank you kindly."
 
~~~
 
Akira was not the type to get easily nervous, but man, he was shivering in his
proverbial boots tonight. All his preparations had been carried out carefully
and with the express approval of Haru, whose patience and secrecy on this
matter was saint-like in nature. (There was a Black Forrest cake in the fridge
with her name on it...literally, as thanks.) He had gone over his plan
countless times, convinced Ryuji that tonight was a good night to seduce Ann,
and even gotten a hybrid threatening and trusting text from Sojiro confirming
Futaba could sleep over. Logistically speaking, everything was perfect.
 
Emotionally speaking, Akira was desperately trying to channel his inner Joker
because the amount of calm charisma he would need to pull this off
was...daunting.
 
He heard the front door open, pausing the ceaseless pacing he had been keeping
busy with up until now. She was here. He took a deep breath, gave the room one
more glancing over, and then turned to the door. The stairs creaked, then the
rhythmic thuds of footsteps come towards the room. The doorknob rattled and
slowly, torturously so, turned and in peeked a pair of warm brown eyes. He
couldn't contain the smile that spread across his face at her blatant caution.
 
The girl slipped into the room, closed the door and locking it before turning
quickly back to him. Futaba took a second to survey the room, obviously
expecting some visible indicator. When she found nothing, sharp eyes met his.
"Hey there, hot stuff."
 
He grinned, "Hey yourself. You look... comfortable."
 
Futaba glanced down at her attire: form fitting tights and one of his plaid
shirts, which fit her more like a dress. She shrugged. "You've been very hush
hush about this whole thing, and even enlisted help. Haru couldn't hide her
involvement but lucky for you I nor Ann could get anything useful out of her.
So, you win. I have no idea what to expect. And since you were
obviously...excited by this plot of yours, I figured my clothes were bound to
come off anyway, so my two options were dress sexy or lazy."
 
"Smart girl," he purred, warmth tickling his lower stomach at the very "Oracle"
type of explanation. At least, she didn't seem nervous. "I approve of the lazy
option. As much as I love seeing you all dolled up, it would be a waste for
sure." Futaba smiled, sauntering toward him to wrap her arms around his waist.
He returned the gesture, kissing her forehead. "So, ready?"
 
"I don't even get to know what I'm agreeing to?" Futaba raised an eyebrow. "I
request mission specs, Captain."
 
"Ah." He smiled, reaching with one hand behind him to the nightstand.
"Acknowledged, Cadet. As I said before, I like to think of this as a trust
exercise. You've got a tendency to hide whenever I look at you too much.
Intimately I mean." Futaba nodded, blushing a bit. "And I figured it might be
fun to try to...combat that response." His hand found what he was looking for,
lifting it quietly.
 
"Ok," Futaba drawled, "And how exactly do you plan to go about this?" Her eyes
were narrowed. Slightly suspicious.
 
Akira smirked, revealing the object of his search from behind his back. "Why,
with this of course." Futaba's eyes widened almost comically. Her mouth gaped,
working silently as if searching for words that did not exist. 
 
From his hand dangled a pair of metal handcuffs. He had asked Iwai for a lot of
weird things over the years, but interestingly enough the older man knew right
away his intention for this particular request. He had gotten quite the lecture
about comfortable binding strategies. His poor heart had almost given out from
embarrassment but he held on. He could still remember Haru's wide grin at his
expense and Iwai's blank unphased expression. The things he did for love...
 
Futaba was still staring at the cuffs, body much more rigid now. He hurried to
explain his intentions, "I know it's a bit much, but I figured this might be
the easiest way to get you to relax, as weird as that sounds. It'll be just
like all the other times we fool around except you can't touch me and I can
move you however I want. I was thinking we could use colors...like street
lights! Green for go, yellow for wait or slow, red for stop. I promise I'll
listen immediately and ask for your opinion as often as I can. And if I'm ever
not listening, we can stop entirely and do something else." His cheeks were on
fire and his voice definitely sounded a bit shaken towards the end. So much for
channeling his inner Joker. He sheepishly stroked Futaba's cheek. "What do you
think?"
 
Futaba's eyes shot up to meet his, forcing Akira to swallow. Her pupils had
expanded so much, he could barely see the purple-brown of her irises at all.
Her cheeks were rosy, but when she licked her lips, slow and tantalizing, he
knew it wasn't just embarrassment. She was excited. "I think," she started,
voice a bit rough. Akira shivered as she redirected her gaze to the cuffs once
more, "that you're much kinkier than I thought. Ballsy too, if you got these
where I think you did." Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she nodded.
"Yeah, I'm game. Engage kink-bot 5000. Green light."
 
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in relief. A small breathless
chuckle escaped him, "I honestly didn't think you'd go along with this so
easily."
 
Futaba wandered towards his bed, sitting down on the edge. She flashed him a
mischievous grin. "Yeah well...maybe you're not the only kinky one. Probably
picked it up from the 50-ish hours of porn I watched while trying to learn how
to blow your mind." That made Akira laugh. Futaba giggled herself. "So! How do
you want to do this?"
 
"Well," Akira began, sauntering over to stand right in front of the small girl,
"I haven't gotten a kiss or anything yet so..."
 
A hand wrapped itself up in the collar of his shirt.  "Get down here then."
 
Akira gladly swooped down to kiss Futaba, moaning a bit as her hands
immediately tangled into his hair. They moved their lips in perfect
synchronization, tongues just beginning to lick at lips.  Akira shifted a knee
up onto the mattress, arms sliding under the redhead's armpits to scoot her up
the bed.  He felt Futaba grin against his mouth, muttering, "you and your damn
manhandling", even as she assisted him by rearranging herself to lie
comfortable along the bed, head cushioned by his pillows.  Smirking to himself,
he took the opportunity to attack her neck, biting hard into the pale flesh.
 Her throaty groan threatened to light his blood on fire. He laved his tongue
along the bite mark to soothe it before continuing down to mouth at the collar
of the shirt- his shirt- that she was wearing.  
 
Gray eyes met chocolate brown ones and he tugged at the collar with his teeth.
"May I?" Futaba breathed out a sighed, scratching his scalp with a nod.  Akira
pressed his forehead against her collarbone, enjoying the head scratch as his
long deft fingers worked at her buttons.  When the last one was undone, she
arched her back, allowing him to work the sleeves off her arms and throw the
fabric to the floor.  When his eyes fell back down to her chest, a shuddering
gasp escaped him.  "Did you ride the train like this?" His eyes raked over her
bare chest, heat curling in his gut like a hot iron.
 
She shrugged.  "You know I hate bras.  The shirt's baggy enough that no one
noticed." His darkened gaze only made her bolder.  She licked her lips.  "Am I
to be punished for this offense, Captain?"
 
He responded by snatching her smart mouth up in a deep kiss, tongue immediately
pushing into her mouth.  They exchanged gasps and groans, tongues working
against each other, exploring the roofs of each other's mouth, the backs of the
other's teeth.  Futaba yanked on his own shirt hastily and Akira pulled away to
rip it off before she even had to ask.  When his mouth returned to hers, he
slowly leaned his torso down until her soft breasts were pressed firmly against
his chest. Futaba's whole body shivered at the sensation. Akira's kisses slowed
a bit, his focus shifted to grinding his hips down into Futaba's in steady
circles.  The heady pressure of his erection against her crotch was driving her
insane even through the multiple layers of clothing left between them.  Her
lungs burned and every limb trembled.  In retaliation, Futaba sunk her teeth
into his bottom lip, relishing in the startled moan he gave.  His eyes slid
open to stare into hers, glassy and drenched in desire.  "Futaba," he
whispered.
 
"If your intention was to make me soak through my panties before we even
started, you've succeeded," she declared, voice winded.  Akira's eyes rolled
into the back of his head, which he hid in her chest with a grumble.
 "Seriously, though.  I'm ready for our, uh, exercise to begin."
 
Akira nodded against her, sitting back onto his haunches.  "Alright, let's get
these off first," he scooted back, dragging the tights and her panties down in
one clean motion.  Futaba gasped, thighs instinctively closing up.  Akira's
eyebrows raised at the moisture evident on the fabric in his hands.  "You
weren't kidding about your, um, downstairs waterfall.  You're pretty into this
huh?"
 
"Negative 5 sexy points, Akira," Futaba grumbled. "What were you planning to do
with my hands anyway?"
 
Akira smiled, "Here, bring the pillow and move down a bit."  Futaba found
herself lying in the middle of the bed, pillow propping up her head.  Akira
raised both of her arms above her head, wrists close.  "How's that feel?  Are
your shoulders uncomfortable?"  She shook her head.  "Ok, I'm gonna cuff you
now.  The key's in the dresser drawer."  The handcuffs were cold, causing the
girl to flinch a bit.  She smiled at Akira's concerned gaze, urged him on.  He
fixed the tightly enough that she couldn't yank out of them, but loose enough
that it didn't hurt.  "You might bruise if you pull too much, so just be aware
of that, I guess," he murmured, reaching way at the top of the bed, and pulling
a long rope from the edge of the bed.  Futaba's eyebrows quirked in interest.
 "No bed posts, so I tied this rope to the cage under the bed.  I'm gonna tie
to the cuffs so you can't slip down, alright?"  Once the bonds were all set up,
Akira sat back.  "Alright.  All done.  How's that feel? Want me to adjust
anything?"
 
Futaba tested the handcuffs a bit, then the rope.  Both were tight but not
constricting. "Uh, they're good.  If I get uncomfortable, I'll tell you. But,
uh, before we start..."
 
"Yeah?"
 
"Could you...make sure the door is actually locked for one?" Akira immediately
nodded and hopped off the bed to go check the door.  After he was satisfied, he
turned to Futaba with a smile.  She nodded, convinced.  "And...do you mind
getting naked too?"  She wasn't sure why she wanted the last request fulfilled.
 Maybe the mutual sense of vulnerability would make her less embarrassed?  She
wasn't really sure.  But she was relieved- and aroused again- when Akira hooked
his thumbs under his waistband and yanked his sweatpants and boxers down
without ceremony.  His erection bobbed out, still quite hard from their earlier
activities.  She shivered a bit, nodding to Akira.  "That...that's good."
 
Akira knelt at the edge of the bed, near her crossed legs.  His smile was warm
and reassuring.  She willed herself to relax a bit, resigned to let him have
his way with her for the next, well, indefinitely.  A flash of heat tore
through her snatch at the thought.  Yeah, she was definitely into this.  Akira
finished his own visual once over of her prone body. Licking his lips, he
chuckled, "You're probably right about me being a kinky fuck."  She giggled.
 "Ok. You remember the cue words?  Just like traffic lights."
 
Futaba took a deep breath, released it through her nose, then smiled.  "Green."
 
Akira nodded, looking a bit frazzled himself.  He started small, leaning in to
kiss her again.  She got lost in the comfort of kissing the boy she loved
almost instantly.  He pulled her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking hard before
letting it slip out slowly and pulling back. Desperate to continue the kiss,
Futaba tried to drag him down to her, but was quickly halted by the bindings.
 Her eyes shot open, shocked by the wave of pure heat that flooded her.  She
hadn't thought about how frustrating it would be not being able to touch him.
Akira's eyes met hers, also shocked by the loud jangle of the cuffs.  Then, a
devilish smirk spread across his lips, and that set her off even more.
 Whining, she bucked up at him, quickly realizing that his plan was actually a
good one.  Her only usable limbs were her legs.  It was either keep them closed
or keep him close.  She'd have to pick.
 
What a genius.  What an asshole.
 
"Akira," she grumbled, flushed from him just sitting above her staring.  That
smug look was still firmly in place, but his eyes grew hungrier the longer he
sat still.
 
"Color?" His voice was deep, rough.  She loved it.
 
"Green. Do something. Do anything. Please."
 
Something was to bring his lips down to her own, giving her one sweet peck
before trailing slowly down her neck.  He let his teeth drag along her pulse,
his tongue play in her collarbone, making her blood sing in her veins.  His
lips continued their journey, leaving small kisses and nips down until he
reached her breasts.  Her breath hitched.  His eyes met hers, stormy in ways
that made her leak, as his mouth fell open to give open nipple a long lick.
 Futaba's back arched, and she keened. Unable to maintain eye contact, she
closed them and shoved her face into her arm.  Her nipples weren't even that
sensitive, but now, with no way to control the way his tongue ran circles
around her areola, everything sensation felt super charged.
 
Affronted by her decision to hide, Akira sucked on the nub hard, leaving it
sopping wet, then blew on it.  The small noises and desperate jerks she made
fueled him more than even the heady rush of victory after a hard fight in the
Metaverse ever had.  He latched his teeth onto her other nipple, ran it gently
between them.  Ever. So. Slowly. Futaba hissed, hips gyrating pointlessly.  His
dick throbbed, but he ignored it.  He was just getting started after all.  He
abandoned his station at her chest, arms gripping her rib cage and slowly
sliding down to grasp her hips. She peeked an eye open to look at him.  He took
that opportunity to ask, "Color?"
 
"Green," she assured him, face still pressed in its hiding place.  His next
goal would be to make that tactic futile, he thought with a smirk. His hands
slid around to grip her thighs.  They tensed a bit at his touch, but relaxed
once more after a bit.  Good.  He brought his fingers in between them, slowly
prying them apart.  Futaba shivered, bonds jingling a bit, but her legs didn't
fight his grip.  He spread them wide, situating each on knee bent and foot
pressed flat against the mattress. His hands wandered up and down her shapely
legs, massaging the sides of her thighs comfortingly.  Once more he asked for a
color.  Yet again, she replied "green", though it was a much more shaky
response this time.
 
He planted a soft kiss on her left knee.  Then slowly trailed those kisses down
her thigh.  Futaba's breathing picked up immediately, anticipating where this
was going.  He grinned into the flesh of her leg.  Good.  He loved beating
people's expectations.  They had an agreement that he wouldn't leave hickeys on
her anywhere Sojiro could potentially see them.  But, he thought, swirling his
tongue around the pale flesh, this place didn't exactly fit that description.
 He dug his teeth into her skin, sucking hard, eliciting a gasp from the girl.
He maintained the pressure for a while, then released it with a pop.  True to
his theory, Futaba's thigh already had a dark mark on it.  He smiled, planting
a kiss on the blemish.  He worked his way down, leaving hickeys, kisses, and
licks in his wake until he reached the place her thigh met her pelvis. For the
first time, he glanced at her vagina.  The lips were glistening with the
evidence of her arousal. With her legs parted this far, he could see how
engorged her clit was. The smell of aroused female filled his nose with every
inhale, making his dick twitch in anticipation.  Since he had previously only
touched down here under some masking of cloth, he had never really been able to
fully appreciate how different the female genitalia was from his own.  It was a
bit strange, mostly due to unfamiliarity.  He laid one more kiss against her
thigh, licking his lips.  He could fix that.
 
Futaba's heart felt like it would beat clear out of her chest.  She had
foreseen quite a few scenarios they could end up in with her hands bound like
this.  Surprisingly, Akira's face inches from her lady parts weren't among
them.  She could feel him breathing, the cool air making her inside clench.
 She was about to tell him to do something already when he head moved again.
 Futaba bit down on her lower lip as his lips planted a kiss on the top of her
mound, among the red curls there.  He let his nose trail down the coarse hair,
hot breath fanning out along her outer lips.  Her lungs burned from holding her
breath.  So close.  Then, his head was gone, planting a kiss on her right
thigh.  She groaned aloud, head flopped back against the pillow.  "Akira," she
whined.
 
She could feel him smirking against her.  "Yes, love?  Do you need something?"
 That absolute sack of dicks.  His voice was like velvet and his hands' strong
grip on her thighs was so nice.  If only he'd just move a bit to the left...
 
Too bad she knew her cocky boyfriend and there was no chance in hell of that
happening without some sort of ego stroking.
 
He finished leaving a round of fresh hickeys to her right thigh, nibbling a bit
at her knee.  He was just about to switch back to the other one, when both of
her legs fell open as far as they could and he heard a faint, "Please.  Akira,
I need you.  Please?"
 
His breath hitched.  Between the strong smell and his own desire, he was
desperate enough, but seeing Futaba bear herself willingly and ask for it?  He
was gone. Akira let out a groan and dipped down to her cunt once more.  His
hands slipped around the bottom of her thighs, tucking her legs over his
shoulders.  Those legs immediately tightened, pulling him closer.  His eyes
rose to meet her own, face no longer hidden in the crook of her arm.  Her eyes
were blown wide with lust and her chest heaved, flushed.  Tentatively, he ran
his tongue up her slit from the bottom all the way to her clit.  A shuddered
cry erupted from Futaba, legs jerking harshly.  He smacked his lips,
considering the taste.  It was hard to place.  Foreign, much like the look and
scent, but also just like them, definitely something he could get used to.
Rolling his neck once, he dove back in, exploring the area thoroughly with his
tongue.
 
Futaba's entire world was on fire.  Akira's tongue was soft, pliant at times
and firm at others.  It contributed even more moisture to an area that was
already soaking wet, but this sensation was slightly different.  Her brain
tried so desperately to comprehend the soft, full tongue licks up her slit as
opposed to the firm, insistent flicks of the tip against her clit, but it was
all too much.  Her head tipped back, eyes staring sightless at the ceiling as
Akira drew moan after needy moan from her slack mouth. There were no
reservations about how exposed she was to the open air or to Akira.  She had no
thoughts left to spare about whether she was modulating her volume correctly.
 There was only heat and warmth, gathering in her lower belly at an alarming
rate.  Somewhere in the back of her head, she acknowledged that he was putting
her into the same state he had been in on Valentine’s Day.  The realization
held no weight though.  She wanted this.  She wanted more than want itself to
reach down and grab handfuls of her lover's hair, to pull him harder against
her snatch until all she felt was him.  Yet, she could only lie there, gyrating
her hips against the eager, clever mouth, and surrender herself to pleasure.
 
When Futaba began quite literally humping his face, Akira was sure he'd died.
 His tongue was sore beyond reason, his jaw was aching, but he couldn't stop
even if his life depended on it.  Despite her being the one bound and helpless,
it was Akira who was being used as an instrument of carnal enjoyment and he
loved every second of it.  The jerks of Futaba's hips and trembling in her legs
was getting worse, a signal that she was getting close.  He focused on her clit
then, teasing it with flicks and swirls.  A shuttering keen rang out through
the room, and Futaba spoke up from above him, "Ah. Ah...Akira.  P-please, I'm
so..."  Her words were cut off as she gasped, legs curling inward, spine
arching in on itself.  Her ankles locked behind his head and tugged him harshly
against her.  The smell and taste was intoxicating and he couldn't help but
moan, open mouthed, into her.  The vibrations were enough to catapult her over
the edge, cumming with a breathy, "Oh."  Her body shook, Akira doing what he
could to continue mouthing at her through it, despite his lack of air.  When
her orgasm had finally passed, Futaba unraveled like a snapped rubber band,
legs flopping uselessly to the sides, chest heaving.  Akira emerged from the
circle of her thighs, panting just as hard.  He rested his damp face against
her thigh, laughing breathlessly.
 
After a moment of catching her breath, Futaba opened her eyes again, shifting
gingerly.  She was drenched in sweat and spit and that was only her upper
torso.  She tried but couldn't remember ever getting that worked up before.
 Even now, her mind felt like there TV static playing in the background.  She
tried to sit up a bit, but her shoulders protested sharply.  "Oh, God. Akira.
Do you mind untying me?  My shoulders..."
 
Akira's own eyes snapped open, "Of course! Sorry."  He jumped up, ignoring his
own still very much so present erection, to swipe up the key to the cuffs, as
well as grab Futaba's glasses.  He freed her hands, helping her sit up and roll
her shoulders.  She groaned a bit, but smiled and accepted her glasses. He sat
patiently by her side, rubbing at her shoulders. "How are you, besides the
shoulders?"
 
"I will poetically explain to you the wonder that was that orgasm as soon as my
head stops glitching out," she snarked, eyes softening when Akira visibly
brightened at her comment.  "That was...really fun, though.  You can add that
to the list of definite repeats."
 
Akira beamed. "I'm so glad. I guess it was no surprise that I enjoyed that a
lot myself, but I'm much happier that you had fun."
 
Futaba hummed, eyes sparkling.  "Well, I suppose I'd best reward you, then.
 For a well planned out and thoroughly enjoyable evening."  She slid off the
bed and to her knees, spreading Akira's thighs.
 
"Oh, uh," Akira shuttered, blushing heavily with renewed interest. "You don't
have to...and I probably won't even last..."
 
Futaba licked her lips and smirked. "Oh shut up."  With no further comments,
she wrapped her lips around Akira's tip and swallowed him down. True to his
word, the poor boy lasted maybe one minute before he was arching his back and
whimpering, spilling in her mouth.  As Futaba pulled away, she recommended that
they take a bath, an idea that Akira could barely compute let alone argue with.
 
And thus, they found themselves in their now familiar position in a gloriously
warm bath. This time though, when Akira attempted to run a washcloth down her
thighs, Futaba willingly spread them, though blushing profusely.  He kissed her
cheek.  Progress.
 
~x~x~
 
The weather had been absolutely unbearable for over a week.  Buckets of
freezing rain, slush, hail and snow kept the ground treacherous and the subways
running late.  Futaba was frankly just happy she didn’t have to haul her ass
across town to go to school while the elements reeked havoc on Tokyo.  Unlike
her, almost all of her housemates were sporting some sort of god awful bruising
from the black ice that liked to gather on the roads leading the the train
station.  Haru had the least because, as expected, Akira had been doing his
best to protect her precious ass from danger by offering his own as a sacrifice
to the concrete.  He was the Guild’s Knight in shining armor.  Or...Knight in
multiple hoodies (because he refused to buy a real jacket) and a really
charming black cat beanie she’d bought for him online.  Whichever.
 
Futaba couldn’t really complain about the situation too much, she supposed,
snuggling deeper into the crook of Akira’s neck.  Sojiro had decided she should
probably stay at the Guild for a few days after she wrecked her knee trying to
get to LeBlanc for dinner.  Now, her days were spent playing cards with Morgana
and Yusuke, who worked from home.  At night, when the gang had limped and
dragged themselves back home, they’d warm some of the huge pot of curry Akira
had made that they’d surely have leftovers from for weeks.  Most everyone else
had gone to bed early tonight, leaving her and Akira to cuddle alone in the
soft glow from the television.  She wouldn’t have been surprised if Akira
passed out right there on the couch himself.
 
“It’s almost March,” he commented, evidently not as tired as she thought.  From
the way his hands were rubbing soft, comfortable circles on her back and how
damn warm he was, Futaba was suddenly worried she would fall asleep.
 
“Uh, I guess.  Why’s that matter?”
 
Akira smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to Futaba’s forehead.  “It’s your
birthday soon.”  Futaba blinked, sitting up a bit.  Akira let her slip out of
his arms, smiling amusedly at her.  “You didn’t forget, did you?”
 
Actually, she had.  For a long time, her birthday had been something that her
phone had to remind her about.  The best celebrations she had for years were
nights where Sojiro would buy her a huge cake that she would be able to eat
after dinner for the next few days.  She hadn’t gone out or done anything
particularly cool or exciting.
 
Until Akira.
 
Two birthdays ago, she had spent a rather solemn day with Akira.  He had
insisted on her “sweet 16” being special and had dragged her all over town.
 They went to Akiba,  Ikebukuro planetarium, and even saw a movie on Central
Street.  But no matter how much fun they had, no matter how many jokes Akira
threw her way, her mind would always wander back to the inevitable truth that
her days by Akira’s side were numbered.  Back then, she hadn’t been sure when
she’d ever see him again.  It felt like the ending of the best chapter of her
life.  But, only a year later, she was proved so so wrong when she had gotten
the best birthday present of her life thus far: Akira, standing at the door to
Sojiro’s house with all his belongings, claiming he was moving back to Tokyo
earlier than expected.  That day he been filled with happy tears, desperate
kisses, and the smell of curry and coffee from downstairs as they cleaned the
attic for Akira’s temporary use.  By contrast to the previous year, they did
nothing notable, but it was still an extremely happy memory.
 
Despite all that, her birthday still wasn’t ingrained in her brain as “a day
when stuff happens”, so she could only shrug and admit, “Yeah, I guess it
slipped my mind.”
 
Akira chuckled, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.  “Well, soon to be
birthday girl, can you think of anything you want to do for your 18th
birthday?”
 
Was there?  Looking back, this last year had been...more than amazing.  She
thought about who she had been back when Akira first confessed to her, how
scared, insecure and jittery she was.  Even last March, she couldn’t even look
at her naked reflection in the mirror without getting sick.  Her body had been
a stranger to her, a barren, cold house yet to be called home.  Now?  Now,
Futaba went shopping with Ann and wasn’t afraid to share a changing room with
her.  Now, Futaba took bubble baths with Akira and didn’t freak out when Ryuji
peeked his head in to check if they were there.  Now, Futaba could decide that
she felt like being intimate with Akira whenever she wanted and not only
communicate this desire without stuttering, but also take the lead in the
bedroom.  She had gone through so many magnificent changes in less than a year.
 There were so many things within her reach now and only one thing left on her
promise list.
 
And as she gazed at the man that had stood by her side every step of the way,
it felt almost poetic that a year filled with such beautiful memories could be
sealed with that last checklist item, the most intimate of all.  She took a
second to evaluate her feelings on the matter.  Akira would never judge her for
not being comfortable with it yet, but...she was.  She was ready.  Had been for
awhile, if she was honest.  For once, it looked like time was just conveniently
on her side.
 
Steeling herself, Futaba flashed Akira a wide, sparkling smile and declared
confidently, “I want you.  All the way, the real deal.”
 
Akira blinked, flushing.  He swallowed, nodding a bit, an excited smile growing
on his face.  “Yeah?”
 
“Absolutely positive.”
 
He leaned in for a low, sensual kiss, hands cradling Futaba’s face gently.  It
was the kind of kiss that left her breathless, every single time.  Akira
pressed their foreheads together and replied, “As you wish.”
 
Akira insisted on planning the evening himself, but they both agreed that a
night much like this past Christmas Eve was in order.  Calm, delicious, fancy
dinner followed by heading back to a hotel room for a night of passion.  It
almost felt too far away, the more Futaba thought about it.  For once, she
couldn’t wait for it to be her birthday.
 
~~~
 
Futaba thought that the woman at the hotel check in desk was a bit too cheery.
 So much so to the point that she was kinda freaky.  She and Akira had shared
multiple looks while the clerk was otherwise occupied because frankly?  It was
pretty obvious why two teenagers wearing formal wear would walk up to a hotel
and request the key to the single bed room they reserved about a week ago.  As
the woman handed Akira their key cards with an extremely cheery, “Have a
fantastic evening!,” Futaba vaguely hoped she got whatever promotion or honor
she was obviously fighting for.  She'd earned it.
 
Taking Futaba’s hand in his, Akira thanked the clerk and shuffled casually
towards the elevator.  Neither of them really had the ability to rush right
this second.  That entire day had been…well, pretty much perfect.  Futaba had
woken to wet kisses being trailed down her neck.  A sleepy but warm “happy
birthday” wished into the curve of her shoulder.  The other thieves had made
her favorite crepes for breakfast and left a cute card signed by all of them.
 There were probably going to be presents but everyone was very aware that they
wouldn’t be seeing Futaba or Akira so that would likely wait until the weekend.
 She and Akira had made the trek over to LeBlanc without sustaining any
physical injury and had eaten lunch with Sojiro and Haru.  Making it home
without disaster striking was basically a miracle, and yet it happened.
 
The best part had to be the dinner, though.  Akira had picked a cute hole in
the wall Italian restaurant that they were certainly overdressed for, but that
hadn’t mattered to Futaba at all.  She felt...pretty in the black dress with
green lace she’d picked out.  It was form fitting and awkward to sit in, but
damn her ass looked great for once so she would deal with the small
discomforts.  The dress, while it did simply just make her look nice, was
selected primarily because it matched the black and green bra and panty set she
and Ann had bought when she was first starting to work on her promise list.
 The entire outfit boosted her confidence, making it so no matter how much the
other guests stared (and stare they did) or how nervous she was for the main
event so to speak, she kept her calm.
 
It didn’t hurt that Akira looked like sex personified in his deep red button up
and black pinstripe vest, blazer and dress slacks.  He even was wearing red
leather gloves which brought back all those long forgotten fantasies of Joker
pinning her against a wall in Mementos and rocking her world with those damn
gloves.
 
Raging hormones aside, they had had fun.  The waiter was friendly, making light
conversation and telling hilarious jokes that had them both snickering into
their food.  The meal itself was heaven.  She had ordered beef stuffed raviolis
in a creamy mushroom sauce, which she enjoyed so thoroughly that even her burps
(that still tasted like the dish) made her sigh pleasantly.  Akira had
experimented with a cheese stuffed chicken dish that was way too much for one
person to eat but looked amazing.  Spoiler alert: it was so good he licked his
plate clean and only let her have a bite because it was her birthday.  Greedy
jerk.  After all of that food, they probably should have just gotten dessert to
go or something, but their waiter friend tempted them with a 50% discount on
the tiramisu for Futaba’s birthday and they simply couldn’t say no.
 
So, as they rode the elevator up to their room, Futaba decided that besides
being a little overstuffed and the overdone exuberant zeal of the hotel clerk,
her 18th birthday had been absolutely everything she wanted it to be.  
 
Well...so far.
 
Stealing a glance at Akira, Futaba felt a familiar heat settle in her core.
 Akira really did look good in red.  The gloves stood out like fire against her
pale skin, Akira’s hand still comfortably in hers.  Her boyfriend had gone to a
lot of trouble to look delectable tonight.  She could smell a deep woodsy
cologne on his neck that she’d been dying to sink her teeth into since he’d
gotten dressed.  His hair, which was always always a mess, was still pretty
wild, but had been put into a swept back style by Yusuke.  Futaba had never
considered whether Akira would look nice with a new hairstyle, but she
wholeheartedly approved of this look.  He had been nothing but charming and
suave all night.
 
Futaba wanted to take that nice, pretty exterior and slowly break it away in
chunks until he was begging for more.
 
That thought in mind, she practically dragged Akira out of the elevator and to
their room.  Her body felt like it would combust if she didn’t kiss him
immediately, mouth plastering itself to his before he could even close the door
behind them.  Her kiss was fierce, biting harshly to draw gasps and groans from
her prey, then soothing the wounds with a laving tongue.  Her hands made quick
work of loosening his tie, then sliding the blazer off his shoulders and
carelessly to the ground.  Her own thick coat followed suit.  Their bodies came
together again hard, pressing Akira’s back to the wall. Futaba’s next target
was that gorgeous hair of his, which she ruffled, pulling a bit as her tongue
sought the tangy sauce from his meal behind his top teeth.  When she pulled
away to admire her work, she shivered as half of his slicked back hair had
flopped back to his forehead.  A work of modern art.
 
Futaba was just about to suggest they get rid of the rest of their clothes when
she realized that aside from holding her back, Akira had yet to really...do
anything.  Usually, he gave just as good as he got, hands squeezing just as
hard, tongue almost fighting hers for the right to make her shiver instead of
him.  But now he was, subdued, slow.  A quick evaluation of his face told her
why: his eyes were half closed, the fog overtaking their grey brilliance
obviously born of exhaustion and not arousal.
 
“Akira?” she prodded, hands coming up to cup his cheeks.  “You ok, babe?”
 
“Yeah,” he nodded, doing his best to force some energy back into himself.  “The
most beautiful girl I know is kissing me senseless.  How could I be anything
but wonderful?”
 
Futaba pursed her lips, fingers rubbing comforting circles against his cheek
bones.  “Are you tired?”
 
“Mm, bit of a food coma, but I’m ok.  I promise.”
 
Akira leaned in to kiss her again.  It was sweet and soft, none of the fire she
had had earlier.  He broke the kiss, planting a small string of kisses along
her cheek, then another peck on her lips.  It was nice, kissing Akira was
always nice, but she knew this type of kiss.  This was the “lazy afternoon”
kiss.  The “interlude from the book he was reading” kiss.  These kisses were
some of her favorite but they were always just a symbol of “I’m still with
you”, and certainly weren’t meant to initiate anything more.  
 
She broke away once more, smiling gently at Akira’s confused expression.  “We
don’t have to do anything sexual tonight if you’re not feeling up to it, you
know,” she chided softly.
 
Akira’s eyebrows narrowed, a pout on his lips.  “No, that’s not…” He sighed.
 “I can get into it, Futaba, really.”
 
“But you’re not into it now.”
 
“I’m a guy, though, we’re biologically wired to get hot and bothered on
command. It’s fine.”
 
Futaba kissed his lips briefly, shaking her head.  “If I wasn’t feeling up to
it, would you expect me to push through it for your sake?  Would you even want
me to?”  Akira blinked, expression crumpling a bit.  “Akira, I don’t care.
 It’s just sex.  It’s not like you’ve been depriving me or anything.  If we are
gonna do it tonight, it’ll be because we both want to and feel up to it.”  She
brushed a hand across Akira’s face, smiling up at him.  “Ok?”
 
He sighed, looking disappointed in himself.  Guilty maybe.  “This is what you
wanted to do for your birthday, though…”
 
“Yeah!  I wanted to be wined and dined by my favorite person in the entire
world and then spend the night with him.  And if I remember correctly, the food
was like Master Chef level and Happy the Hotel Clerk gave us this room until
tomorrow at noon.”  Akira met her eyes, expression brightening a bit.  “And
hey, maybe you’ll decide after an hour or so of watching the nice pay-per-view
TV channels that you do want to start something.  That would be fine with me.
 Or maybe you won’t and we’ll fall asleep in our fancy clothes and need to send
them to the dry cleaner’s.  That’s fine too.  Our first time won’t be any less
special just if it doesn’t happen here in this hotel room.”
 
With a sigh, Akira wrapped his arms tightly around Futaba, burying his face in
her hair.  “Thank you.  You’re a literal angel.”
 
They both decided that just because they weren’t immediately planning to do
something sexual didn’t mean they should stay in their formal clothes all
night.  Akira had brought a backpack with spare clothes for the two of them
(including some boxers for himself this time), but the amount of effort it
would take to redress themselves was rule to be far too much.  When she had
stepped out of the dress and gone to shove it in the bag, she noticed Akira
staring intently at her.  His expression was downtrodden again, once again
reminded of Futaba’s explicit intentions for this evening by the scandalous
lingerie.  Once free of all clothing, Futaba put on a movie and wrapped herself
up in her obviously exhausted boyfriend’s arms, planting many kisses all over
his neck, cheeks, ears and face until he stopped frowning.  Surprisingly,
Futaba found herself drifting off after only about fifteen minutes, belly still
a bit fuller than she would have preferred.  She fell asleep with Akira’s hands
still brushing through her hair, bodies comfortably wrapped up in one another
under the thick covers.  Akira pressed a kiss against her temple before falling
asleep himself, vowing that if he woke up before her, he would certainly make
up for the slight disappointment of that evening.
 
The next morning, Futaba woke from a dazed sleep to an enthusiastic head
between her legs and the sound of her own unrestrained moans.  They did not end
up going through with their original plans, but explored each other thoroughly
and leisurely with hands and mouths until the maids came knocking to inform
them it was time to check out.  Needless to say, any disappointment that may
have lingered, was very quickly forgotten.
 
~~~
 
There was an unspoken assumption between Futaba and Akira that their aborted
first time would be resumed when another good opportunity arose.  There were no
formal plans, but both made mental checklists of circumstances that would
warrant revisiting the matter.  Having the room to themselves, no major plans
the next day, and Futaba already planning to stay over seemed to be the obvious
conditions.  
 
Strangely (or predictably) enough, life was loath to give them another chance
for a time.  The weather chose the day after Futaba’s birthday to be sunny and
beautiful again, so Sojiro requested that she come spend the weekend with him.
 Since she had only seen him for two hours in over a week, she felt it was only
fair that she comply.  Futaba planned to spend the following weekend at the
Guild, hoping that they’d find time at some point where Ryuji wanted to stay
the night with Ann, but Akira had texted her before she could even start
packing a bag.  Apparently, Ryuji had requested that Akira and Yusuke join him
on a “man’s retreat” out camping.  Akira had been slightly dubious at first,
but he relayed to Futaba that he was pretty sure this was all an elaborate
excuse for Ryuji to get their advice.  She had only just stopped talking to
Akira about the subject when Ann sent an enraged group message to all the girls
claiming that they (and Morgana) were going to have a girl’s weekend at the
Guild.  Which was certainly not born out of spite.  Surely not.  Part of Futaba
wanted to decline and avoid dealing with any relationship drama there was to
discuss, but honestly, she had nothing better to do.
 
The weekend had been fun, but the relationship drama was not completely
avoided.  Undeniably affronted by the spontaneous trip they boys took, their
blond friend did more than her fair share of ranting about the idiocy of the
idea, despite the fact that their group of girls had had over a dozens girls'
days and retreats.  Ann claimed she had absolutely no idea why Ryuji had
suddenly stolen the boys away and that it had nothing to do with their
relationship.  None of the others actually believed that, especially not when
Ryuji immediately dragged Ann away upon returning to the Guild.  Futaba had
turned to Akira and Yusuke for answers but both merely shook their heads with
bemused expressions and went to take showers.
 
They would all learn the next morning that Ryuji had been contemplating taking
a big step forward in his relationship with Ann.  He wanted to run it by Akira
mostly because he respected Akira’s advice as someone who had a successful two
and a half year long relationship going.  But he also wanted both Yusuke and
Akira’s seal of approval because the change he was thinking of making was
moving in with Ann, which would affect Akira and Yusuke more than anyone else.
 Neither man had any complaints about this idea, offering nothing but support
and congratulations to their friend.  And as it turned out, Ann had quite liked
the idea herself.
 
The pair were so eager to start this new period of living in the same space
that they immediately enlisted the help of Akira, Futaba and Yusuke in moving
all of Ryuji’s things to Ann’s room.  It was a squeeze, fitting two people’s
belongings into a room meant for one person.  Akira very nearly offered that
they switch rooms, but Ann cut him off.  “Hold your horses, Leader.  I know you
want to help, but we are just trying this out for now.  I don’t use like half
the stuff in my closet anyway, so I can just move some of it back home for
awhile.  And honestly, if this living together thing pans out well enough that
we want more room, we should probably get our own place.”
 
Akira couldn’t argue with that.
 
Once the last of Ryuji’s things were in a somewhat organized mess in his new
domicile, over three full days later, Futaba wandered back into Akira’s room,
staring at the obvious vacancy.  Ryuji hadn’t been too messy, but his mark on
the room had been hard to miss.  Their closet had been hilariously divided into
sides that perfectly characterized Akira and Ryuji’s very different
personalities.  The stark line where nicely pressed blazers and casual cotton
shirts dropped off into running jackets, sleeveless T shirts and cartoon
adorned sweatshirts was now gone, the other half of the closet pitifully bare.
The small ramen themed paperweights and anime girl figures were missing from
their spot on the spare dresser.  The only things of Ryuji’s left in this room
were the video games still piled next to the TV, which he was promised he could
still use at his leisure.
 
At first, Futaba had been excited by the idea of having more alone time with
Akira without having to ask for it.  But now, looking around, the room seemed
kinda lonely.  Akira entered behind her, eyes drawn to the empty spaces the
same way hers had been.  Heart a bit heavy, Futaba grabbed Akira’s hand,
leading him to bed.  
 
Futaba snuggled back into the sheets, humming contently as Akira's face found
it's familiar place in the crook of her shoulder. In this way, at least, the
room wasn't any different. This was still their space, a place she felt
comfortable in her own skin. This was still a place that felt like home. Futaba
yawned, jaw cracking loud enough for Akira to hear and chuckle. She personally
hadn't even done that much today, but she still felt like she could very easily
sink into a deep sleep. That had been happening a lot lately. Makoto had joked
that that was what being an adult was like: your body kink shaming you for
being a lazy piece of shit and not working yourself to death like everyone
else.
 
Akira must not have been as lethargic as she was because every time her mind
slipped away enough to possibly fall asleep, his lips would start leaving long,
wet kisses on her neck. Then, as soon as she shifted or made any
acknowledgement of his actions, they would cease, his body growing perfectly
still once more. Futaba clicked her tongue in understanding after the fourth
time it occurred. If there was one thing that was absolutely true about Akira
Kurusu, it was that he was the world's most dedicated tease.
 
And maybe she wasn't as tired as she previously thought. After all, when she
grabbed a hearty handful of the pleasant smelling black mop of hair on her
chest and pulled, his answering moan made any thoughts of sleeping obsolete.
The gray eyes the flew up to meet her own were dark and growing ever more alert
by the second. Licking her lips, she used her grip to force his mouth up to
where she could reach it. Their lips parted instantly upon meeting, tongues
hungrily sweeping in to ravage one another. Akira’s tongue tasted like a hint
of this morning’s coffee.  The back of his teeth had a bit of spice to them
from the cinnamon waffles Ryuji had insisted they try.  It was a lovely
mixture.  Without her knowing, her legs had curled up to encircle Akira’s hips,
trapping his form against her own.  One of her feet pressed hard into the small
of his back, met with a breathy groan and a harsh thrust of his hardening
length into her core.  The pressure was nice, causing electricity to shoot up
her spine and curl in all her extremities.  
 
In her mind, all of her desires warred for her approval.  She wanted to strip
Akira of his shirt, wanted to bite her way down his neck, wanted his hips to
never stop moving against her own, wanted more sweet noises from his kiss
swollen lips.  But a fairly new feeling, an ache deep within herself that
pulsed like hell, was taking up most of her mental ability.  It was a lot like
the feeling she got when he stopped fingering her, she guessed.  Lips brushing
his once more, she decided that yes, this feeling was identifiable: she was
empty and wanted him to fix that as soon as reasonably possible.  Even just
thinking about the idea of it, of Akira pressing in and stretching her, joining
their bodies together in an act of carnal worship, sent shivers down her spine.
 She wanted it.  Akira must have sensed that she was lost in thought, for he
pulled back with a small whine, longing for her continued participation.  She
smiled, brushing a hand over his flushed cheeks affectionately.  
 
Whenever Futaba had previously envisioned her first time with Akira, it was as
the climax of a date.  Not necessarily her birthday dinner, though that was the
first time the fantasy truly took hold of her, but it felt planned out.
 Premeditated.  This situation was far from it.  She hadn’t showered since
yesterday, her armpits and legs having gone unshaved since her birthday.  There
were no fancy underwear on her body.  In fact, she hadn’t done laundry in
awhile so she was wearing a pair of “period panties”, color already ruined by
past accidents.  Futaba still didn’t think of herself as the pagan goddess of
sex appeal like Ann, but she had her moments where the drag of soft lace on her
hips and Akira’s hungry stares could make her feel utterly desirable.  This,
however, was not one of them.   She was just...Futaba right now.  Unkempt,
messy, lazy Futaba.
 
Her eyes raked over Akira’s form, acknowledging that he wasn’t at his sexiest
either.  The boy was clad in a pair of sweatpants he hadn’t ever washed in her
memory and a stained tank top.  He smelled like teenage boy, honestly.  A
little sweat and dust added to his normal Akira scent.  Futaba ran a hand
through his hair, trying to find any of these things unappealing...but
couldn’t.  She didn’t care if he was dressed in typical Ryuji style, like now,
or all dolled up in tight fitting slacks, dress shirts and vests.  Futaba was
attracted to Akira regardless.  And, she reminded herself, he was attracted to
her regardless too.  They’d never shied away from pleasing one another because
of their lack of ceremonious preparation before.  Maybe, she considered, as she
laid a soft lingering kiss to his lips, giggling to herself as he melted into
her touch, this was better than any planned out event.  After all, they decided
a long time ago that they weren’t interested in having sex because it was
something all couples should do.  They wanted to be physically close to one
another and make each other feel amazing.  Sex was a logical and well thought
out means to a very pleasant end, so how it happened shouldn’t matter.
 
She pulled away once more, chest warm from the weight of her resolve.  Futaba
waited until Akira’s eyes slid open to meet hers before she asked, “Can I cash
in that rain check from my birthday?”
 
It took him a minute, eyes blinking lazily a few times before flying open in
recognition.  “Oh.”  His body shifted, pressing up on his elbows a bit.  Her
legs stayed wrapped comfortably around him, nudging his butt.  “You want to?”
 
Ever the gentleman, she thought, bemused.  Her legs tightened, dragging the
evidence of his arousal firmly against her.  The friction was enough to make
her bite her lip as she nodded.  “Mmm-hmm.”
 
Futaba had the pleasure of watching Akira’s eyes shift out of focus for a
moment, before he dove into planting as many kisses everywhere that he could.
 “Then, yes,” he growled, lips against her temple.  A kiss to her cheek. “Yes.”
 Another to her chin.  “Yes.”  Finally, a long, sweet kiss to her lips.  “All
the yesses.”
 
Her giggles were swallowed up by the passionate kisses that followed.  Futaba
kept waiting to feel nervous, but it didn’t ever really happen.  How could she
when kissing Akira was as habitual as breathing at this point?  When she knew
her way around his naked body almost better than she knew her own?  There was
nothing threatening in the way he slid her clothes from her, gently and slowly,
still watching for any sign of discomfort.  His eyes were hungry, dark, but
also extremely warm and almost awed even after all this time.  The path his
hands burnt down her sides, across her chest, between her thighs wasn’t alien,
nor was it rushed despite their excitement.  His thumb found her clit easily,
rubbing soft, torturously unhurried circles as his fingers dipped into her to
spread her walls wide open.  Akira drank her desperate mewls and cries eagerly,
lips rarely leaving her own as he took time and care to prepare her.  In
retribution, she snaked a hand down his chest to press her nails just hard
enough into his left nipple to make him shudder.  Her other hand wandered his
back down to his ass, taking a rough handful of it. She could feel his dick
weep where it was pressed snugly against her thigh.  She would have loved to
give the poor appendage a few strokes but her range of movement was vastly
limited by how Akira was pressing her into the bed.  The slight frustration
from this fact only served to turn her on more.
 
It felt like hours before he saw fit to pull his hand away from her sopping
entrance, both breathing heavily and thoroughly flushed with pleasure.  Akira
lifted up, sitting back on his haunches, eyes almost predatory.  “Feel
alright?”
 
“Feel like I just got edged for two hours,” she deadpanned.  “I literally
couldn’t be more ready.”
 
“I’m just checking-”
 
“And I appreciate that so so much, but for the love of God, Akira, please just
fuck me.”
 
Despite his bemused chuckle, she could see his member twitch at her words.
 “Yes ma’am,” he purred.  “How should we do this?”
 
A dozen different ways of positioning their bodies came to her mind, but the
conclusion she kept coming to was that regardless of Akira’s dedicated
preparation, the stretch of having him inside of her would likely still be
uncomfortable at best.  That combined with this being Akira’s first time too
made the choice somewhat easy.
 
“Sit up against the wall please.”
 
Futaba let Akira situate himself for a minute while she grabbed the condoms and
a bottle of lube from the dresser.  Honestly, the lube wasn’t going to be
necessary, judging by the waterfall that was her nether parts, but it was
always better to have it and not use it than need to get up later.  She threw
the lube down at the foot of the bed and ripped the condom wrapper open with
her teeth.  Akira whimpered at the sight, then sighed as she rolled it onto
him.
 
“Was this another banana tested skill?”
 
Futaba smiled despite herself.  What a smart ass.  “Sass capacities still
operational, huh?  I’ll have to fix that.”  
 
She scooted up on her knees until she was hovering right above his lap.
 Akira’s arms snaked around her back to draw her closer.  It was oddly
comforting to be chest to chest with him this way.  She was just a bit taller
than him in this position.  One of her hands left his shoulders to card through
his hair.  Their foreheads pressed together, and the two just took a moment to
look into each other’s eyes.  The head of Akira’s length bumped against her,
but no apprehension or anxiety rose up in her.  Futaba was in the safest spot
in the entire world, as far as she was concerned anyway.  The sheer force of
the emotions that thought stirred in her threatened to moisten her eyes.
 
“Ready?” she whispered, as if any loud noise would shatter the atmosphere
around them.
 
Akira’s answering smile was almost blinding. “Absolutely.”  He leaned his head
forward to kiss the ring hanging between her breasts on a chain, then moved a
hand down to steady his member.  
 
Taking a large breath, Futaba began to slowly slide down onto him.  The
pressure was...interesting.  Definitely a lot more of a stretch than she was
accustomed to, but not entirely unpleasant.  All of the air in her lungs
escaped with a huff as Akira bottomed out in her, letting her seat herself
quite comfortably in his lap.  She took a couple more breaths, squirmed a bit
to assess whether she was in any pain.  Satisfied that all was well, she
finally turned her attention to Akira.  Both of his arms had returned to being
wrapped tightly around her body, his head buried snugly against her neck.
 Judging by the way his shoulders were trembling beneath her hands, it seemed
that it was him that needed to adjust, not her.  Smiling lovingly, Futaba
hugged Akira tighter, scratching at his scalp contently.
 
“Hey,” Futaba whispered, more than a little breathless, “You’re inside of me.”
 Akira’s breath hitched against her, but he didn’t reply.  Laying a series of
kisses against his heated neck, she continued, “We’re as close as two people
can physically be.  It’s pretty nice actually.  Doesn’t hurt at all.  I just
feel...full, if that makes sense.”  The longer she spoke, the less tension
there was in Akira’s back.  His breaths were less ragged now, smoother.  Futaba
let her nails scratch lightly up and down his back, coaxing small hums from his
throat.  “How is it for you?”
 
“It’s so warm,” the words were spoken directly into her shoulder, tone
reverential but soft. Akira drew back a bit from his hiding spot, face slack
with something akin to wonder.  “I’m trying, but...it’s a lot to process.  I’m
not sure how long I’ll…” he trailed off, cheeks aglow.
 
“That’s alright, babe,” she cooed, kissing his lips sweetly.  Experimentally,
Futaba rose up a bit, letting him slip out, then pressing back down.  A
feather-light cry left his slackened lips, eyes drooping a bit.  “You don’t
have to hold yourself back.”  Akira nodded, hands moving to her hips, pulling
and pushing to aid in her movements.  Futaba used her leverage on his shoulders
to start a rolling motion with her stomach and hips, well rewarded by a full
body shiver and Akira’s eyes rolling back in his head.  “We have all the time
in the world.  We can do this over…” his grip tightened on her hips as she
ground them down against his lap.  “And over…”  His breath existed only as
gasps.  The gray eyes that could be so sharp and calculating in the Metaverse
were endless pools of ecstasy now.  His gaze never left hers, but it wasn’t
quite in focus either.  It was like he was brainwashed, under a spell that she
commanded.  His body and mind hung on every word, every slow roll of her body,
every caress of her hands against his face, hair, neck.  Her lips found his
ear, “...and over again.  There’s no rush.  So just take your time and let go.”
 
Akira gasped, using one hand to guide her lips to his.  It wasn’t quite a kiss.
 For the most part, it was their lips moving idly while sharing the same air.
 But it felt like fantastic to be that close to Akira and she understood why he
was loath to let her slip even an inch away.  The hand at her waist pressed her
hips a bit forward, making her back arch just a tad and allowing Akira’s length
to brush that bundle of nerves inside her.  A heady groan was swallowed up by
Akira’s lips, quirked up in a half smirk, but still moving devotedly against
her own. Each slide into her struck that spot from then on, quickly igniting
the sparks of pleasure and desperation that Akira had been victim too until now
in her as well.
 
They went on that way for awhile.  Time wasn’t very meaningful when they were
together at the best of times, but it escaped them entirely now.  Every
leisurely thrust stoked the fires in her gut more and more, but Akira was
trembling with each movement now, mouth unable to keep up as lost as he was in
the sensations.  Futaba focused on maintaining the full body roll that
enraptured him so, tilting Akira’s head back with her hands to kiss and nip at
his bared neck.  The hands on her back spasmed, but she kept moving, whispering
sweet nothings to match the shivering gasps and moans.  Watching Akira’s climb
to orgasm was enthralling, his body twitching and jerking more frequently until
his mouth fell open soundlessly, head falling back limply as the devastating
bliss ran through him in waves.  The hard length inside her pulsed, hips
pressing up against hers hard enough to smash her sensitive clit.  That had
almost been enough to push her over the edge with him, but sadly the tension
began to bleed out of him a moment later.  Futaba gasped, body alight with the
strange duality of being satisfied that she had created such a strong,
beautiful reaction from Akira and how painfully close she was.  Her mind did
not even have a chance to parse these conflicting emotions because not a moment
later, Akira’s hand dug in between them, pressing incessantly at her clit.
 Between his skilled fingers and her already frayed nerves, it took no more
than three tight circular motions before her body was tightening up and
trembling around the intruding member.  Her climax was intense and somewhat
unexpected.  She could do nothing more than hold onto Akira’s shoulders for
dear life as she let the waves of pleasure sweep her away.
 
The world felt a bit fuzzy around the edges as she drifted back to her right
mind.  All the post-coital fatigue brought with it the realization that her
legs and abdomen were cramping terribly.  “Oh fuck,” Futaba hissed, trying to
rise up a bit so as to climb off of Akira’s lap.  Sadly, her body decided
cooperating was for losers so she had no better options than to release her
hold on Akira and flop backwards ungracefully.  The ability to stretch her legs
was almost as relieving as her orgasm.  The bed bounced as Akira too tipped
over, body dropping like a dead weight sideways onto the mattress.  Futaba
could only image how stupid they looked: Akira face first in the sheets, body
twisted like some medieval pretzel and her on her back, butt still atop his
thighs and all limbs spread as far as they could be, much like a starfish.
 
Sleep was an attractive option, but there were still some matters to attend to.
 Namely…
 
“Akira.”  No response.  “Akiraaa.”  An inquisitive groan this time.  “You can’t
sleep yet.  Gotta get rid of the condom.  And pee.”  His body twitched, but
didn’t move.  “Come on, that’s gonna be super gross in like...fifteen minutes
and I really don’t want you getting a UTI or something.”  When her response
this time was a small snore, she gave up trying to talk to him.
 
She debated leaving her dumb, sleepy boyfriend to deal with the consequences of
his ill advised nap on his own.  She would have liked to think she was capable
of such indifference, but it only took two minutes of pouting to realize she
didn’t have the heart to do so.  Akira was her weak spot, alright? Sue her.
 One tied up and disposed of condom, wet wash cloth and trip to the toilet for
her later, Futaba found herself rearranging Akira’s limbs to make a nice, dry
spot for herself to sleep (and hopefully be spooned) in.
 
Futaba vaguely expected something to feel different.  She wasn’t a virgin
anymore.  And what’s more she had completed her promise list.  Those were two
decently large milestones to overcome and yet, everything felt the same way it
had for months.  Thinking about tonight made a warm feeling curl comfortably in
her chest, but honestly that feeling came over her every time she looked at her
ring too.  Reaching up, she retrieved the chain from around her neck so it
didn’t choke her in her sleep.  She slid the golden band down over her ring
finger, sighing happily at its slightly gleam in the lamp light.  There were
many different ways to show you loved someone, she acknowledged.  The promise
she kept around her finger and the one they had physically made tonight were
different, but both born of the same desire to be together.  She felt no more
fulfilled by her relationship after having had sex than she had holding Akira
in the bathtub on their anniversary, or receiving that promise ring on
Christmas.  That didn’t mean it hadn’t been worth it though, she mused.  It
definitely had.  But it was moreso that the most important part of being with
Akira was also cemented in both of their hearts.  The actions they took from
here on out could build upon those feelings, but even not taking any further
steps would not detract from the fact that she and Akira loved one another.
 
After a while, Akira’s body started shifting behind hers.  It came in spurts of
movement followed by stillness.  Futaba was trying her best not to laugh at his
feeble attempts to situate himself.  An arm wrapped tightly around her waist,
pulling her against an extremely warm chest.  He pressed a long, wet kiss to
her cheek, nuzzling her.
 
“I can almost hear you thinking from here,” he greeted, voice rough from his
impressive twenty two minute nap.
 
“Not all of us have our minds rendered useless by orgasms.”
 
“No?  I’ll have to try harder next time then.”  His nose ran a line from her
neck to behind her ear, making her shiver a bit, ticklish.  Akira hummed.
 “Good thoughts or bad thoughts?”
 
“You kidding?  Great thoughts.”
 
“That’s good.  Mushy stuff?”
 
“Oh yeah.  The mushiest.  Ryuji would curl up and die of embarrassment if he
heard the mush going on in my head right now.  Makoto too, probably.”
 
Futaba could feel his grin against her skin.  “Excellent.  Well, I love you.
 And you’re beautiful.  And wonderful.  And I actually would love to indulge in
the mush.  But I really need to pee first.”
 
She snorted, shaking her head.  “Figured you would.”  Akira made no effort to
move, besides continuing to kiss her shoulder and neck.  “Akira, go pee.”
 
“But I love you.”
 
Laughing, she reached back to poke at his ribs, enjoying his tickled squeal a
bit too much.  “I love you, too, you goof.  I really don’t feel like getting
peed on though, so please go.”
 
Finally, he hopped over her, tripping a bit, then speed walking to the
bathroom.  He didn’t even bother turning on the lights when she heard the tell-
tale sounds of him relieving himself, accented by a blissful sigh.  She shook
her head again, amused and hopelessly in love with him, no matter how
ridiculous he was.
 
They spent the rest of their evening in extremely ordinary fashion, cuddling
and taking turns playing a platforming game.  Their conversation bounced from
deep emotional affirmations, to blatant sexual innuendo, to thoughtless meme-
ing.  Even the fact that this video game marathon eventually derailed into some
sort of sex was business as usual.  The only difference now was that there were
many more and physically dynamic options on how they could have that sex. There
had been some significant changes in Akira’s bedroom in the last week, but
though the appearance was different, everything still felt the same.  Futaba
hoped the future would continue to be like that too: constantly moving forward,
with all the important parts still the same.
 
~x~x~
 
The next few months were laden with changes that were ultimately small but felt
more substantial than meets the eye. First, Sojiro had informed them that
Futaba didn't have to ask his permission to stay over anymore. He said he
trusted them to make wise decisions for themselves and act like adults. Akira
was pretty sure that meant the older man had some insight into the progress of
their sex life, but regardless he honestly appreciated the gesture. Second, he
and Ryuji were still struggling to reorient themselves after his move into
Ann's room. Ryuji had knocked on his door more than once, which Akira had found
strange and slightly ridiculous. But he couldn't exactly argue because in a
year's time, when Futaba moved in, it would be necessary. That felt weird too.
 
Now, when he and Ryuji ended up coming home together, there was a small
disconnect. It felt bizarre climbing the stairs with Ryuji, only for his best
friend to wave and disappear behind the door at the opposite end of the
hallway. For all the times he and Futaba had requested privacy, Akira would
miss being able to throw himself down on the Nest after work and be assured
that within half an hour Ryuji would throw him a controller and demand they
play games. Though, he supposed, smiling and heading to his own room, this
didn't mean that wouldn't happen anymore. The only thing really changing was
their sleeping locations.
 
And he wouldn't have to bribe Ryuji into taking the couch for a night anymore.
Now, his best bud would be enjoying the same type of domestic bliss he would
be. That at least put him at ease.
 
Futaba was huddled on the bed when he came in, staring rather intensely at a
piece of paper. Akira honestly couldn't tell if she was upset or not, so he
plopped down next to her, burying his face in her shoulder. "Hey. What's up?"
 
The paper in question ruffled. Sparing it a glance he realized it was the
promise list. Akira barely restrained a snort when he saw that it was titled "
(Makin') Baby Steps Aka The Sexy Timez Promise List". No matter what changed he
supposed Futaba's quirky sense of humor never would. He was glad for it,
honestly.
 
"I finished it," she muttered, sounding a bit lost.
 
"That's fantastic," he praised, kissing her cheek. "I'm proud of you. Would you
like a pat on the head? Or does this brand of promise list warrant a different
prize?" Heat curled pleasantly in his stomach at the possible rewards she could
request.
 
"I don't know. I mean," she sighed, raising her left hand to scratch at this
head. His eyes caught the golden hue of the ring in their peripheral. It never
failed to make his heart throb pleasantly in his chest. "We have made a lot of
progress. And it feels like I should feel pretty victorious but...I'm not?"
Futaba shook her head. "No. More like...it doesn't feel like I'm done. You
know?"
 
Akira hummed, nuzzling her neck a bit. "Are there other goals you'd still like
to accomplish?"
 
"Yeah! Tons. But like...I don't think I could write them all down because I
can't even put them into words. It's like...I want to write "experience all
good things with Akira" but that's not exactly something I could ever check
off. Which kind of defeats the purpose of a promise list."
 
"Maybe it doesn't have to be a promise list. We got this far, I'm pretty sure
it's safe to say we are prepared for any new challenges. Anything you want to
do, I'm down to at least consider. And I don't feel hesitant telling you what I
want either." Akira stood, grabbing a whiteboard he never used and dry erase
marker from his desk. He held out the board, musing, "So...maybe we can make a
list of things we find interesting but nothing as formal as a promise list?"
 
Futaba met his eyes, the usual excited spark slowly easing back into them as
she swiped the board from him and uncapped the marker. "Yeah! That sounds like
a good idea. Oh man. What should we put on there first?"
 
Akira smirked, moving to sit behind her and pinching her sides a bit. "I
request a formal evaluation of whether you get off on tickling."
 
"Huh? I always thought you had a bit of a weird obsession with tickling me.
 Why do ya have to bring it into our sexual endeavors though?" she muttered
petulantly as she wrote it down on the board anyway.
 
"Your body makes the same type of motions when being tickled and being
pleasured. I want to know if these are additive or multiplicative effects."
 
The tip of Futaba's nose crinkled, "No offense, babe, but you sound like a
combo of Inari and Makoto."
 
Akira was not pleased with the comparison.
 
They added several more items to their list. Akira put forth food play
(specifically chocolate) and shower/bath sex. Futaba had agreed to both
aggressively and offered up more temperature play (Akira shivered in
excitement), cosplay and...
 
"Uhhh," Akira mumbled, feeling his face grow increasingly warm by the second.
"F-Futaba...that last one..."
 
Judging by the smirk on her pink lips, she had desired getting a reaction out
of him. Her voice almost sounded innocent. "Problem, my dear? If you don't like
something, feel free to let me know."
 
This was a test. This was a test and he was failing but man even looking at the
word was making him twitch. "Not a problem...I just didn't think you'd be
into..."
 
Futaba took the marker and underlined the word pegging, drawing a little heart
next to it. She was so evil, it physically hurt him. "I'm into what you're
into, Akira. And I happen to remember you quite liking our previous dabbling in
prostate play. So I figured you might like this too." She turned her head to
meet his eyes, her own brown-lavender bottomless and dark as she cooed, "Don't
you want me to fuck you, Akira?"
 
Akira.exe was not responding.
 
There was no way to spare himself from the embarrassment of this conversation
but he still hid his head in his hands. Even his palms could feel how bright
red his cheeks were. Weighing the pros and cons briefly, and deciding the cons
were all results of dumb male pride that would rob him of an experience that
would likely blow his mind, he shivered "Dear God yes."
 
Futaba chuckled. "Well that settles it." Setting the board aside, Futaba pushed
Akira back onto the bed, grinning as she pried his hands away from his still
blushing face. "No need to be embarrassed. Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean
you have to avoid the parts of sex with a guy that you'd enjoy a lot. I promise
I'd never judge you."
 
"I know," Akira whispered. And he did know. He had his own emotional snags to
deal with, he supposed. Mostly to do with the weird in between of being into
men and women. Each type of relationship had their own preconceived nuances
that he liked, but often thought of as entirely separate. Akira had privately
always enjoyed the thought of being a bottom in a homosexual relationship, but
enjoyed being dominate in his relationship with Futaba just as much. It was
more than a little shocking that she was offering him the chance to be both, in
different turns. The thought made his heart flutter. Futaba had been seeking
out his companionship and help to better herself for most of a year. Akira
couldn't help but feel awed to realize it was a completely two way street.
 
"I love you," he affirmed, his hand taking her left in it to bring it to his
lips. Akira pressed a firm kiss to the ring there, eyes never leaving hers.
 
Futaba's gaze was soft, warm. The fond smile made him feel the words before
they even left her mouth, "I love you too."
 
And so they sealed another contract with a kiss. Akira vaguely thought it
interesting how their relationship worked: a series of promises and agreements
to work out all problems, enjoy their time together, and use one another's
support to foster growth. It was different than anything he grew up seeing.
They defied every preconceived notion they came to. Their relationship was a
creature unique and beautiful and only theirs.
 
He wouldn't have it any other way.
 
Chapter End Notes
     They did the sex thing, guys. Aren't you proud of them? Cuz I am.
     I had so much fun writing this even though it took some mental
     struggling to get myself to write. That being said, summer is over
     for me so I can't promise I'll actually get the Ryuji x Ann or Haru x
     Makoto chapters up. I will certainly try, but I'd hate to make a
     promise to you guys that I don't know I can keep. I'm still going to
     leave the Tales from the Thieve's Guild fic unfinished, and I'll
     write down my outlines, but yeah, it's gonna be rough. There's also
     so many other cute things I'd love to write for this universe (Futaba
     moving in finally, the pegging thing, a scene between Ryuji and Akira
     that I thought up that HAUNTS MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT NOW), but again,
     limited time and energy.
     I want to thank everyone who's commented and left kudos for this fic
     and the others in the series. It's meant the world to me. I love
     talking to you guys via comments and such. If you'd ever like to just
     chat, you can find me at my tumblr, kairiofknives.tumblr.com. Please
     please leave me some feedback in the comments. I'd love to hear your
     thoughts. Again, thank you so much for reading :)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!