#itakira

Yuuji freezes. He stares at her foot for a long moment, hyperaware of how it’s separated from his cock by only a couple layers of fabric. It’s started to notice too, and there’s a slow tightening all across his body that spells trouble.

“Won’t Hakari-senpai be mad?” he blurts out.

She giggles. “You’re so sweet, Yuu-chan. Don’t worry about that. Kin-chan likes to watch.”

“Huh.” Yuuji’s only surprised by how unsurprised he is. Considering everything he knows about Hakari— “Yeah, that tracks.”

Kirara plucks her phone up from the coffee table littered with mostly unopened snacks and drinks, tapping at it for a few seconds before putting it back. “Kin-chan will be back in about fifteen minutes. If we start now, we can kill two birds with one stone.”

“Two birds…?”

Kirara sits up straight and swings herself into his lap, and suddenly, there are lips the color of old blood a hair’s breadth away from Yuuji’s.

“I can give Kin-chan a good show,” she murmurs, running her hand up Yuuji’s chest, “and cheer you right up, Yuu-chan.”

Yuuji wants to say he doesn’t need cheering up, but he knows how well received that’ll be, for one, and for another, his mouth is occupied before he can say anything at all.

He notices the piercings first. She only had those studs all over her chin when they first met, but over the last couple of years, she’s added a pair of rings to her lips, one on each side, and they catch on his mouth in new, strange ways as they kiss, throwing him off. He realizes he was expecting them to be cold, but they’re lukewarm at best, not all that cooler than her skin. She’s a bold kisser too, her tongue laving over his lips and prodding at the seam, and it doesn’t feel like she’s seeking entry so much as daring him to catch it and take it, and Yuuji does, opening up to suck her tongue into his mouth. Both of her hands dig into his shoulders, and she presses close with her whole body, yanking his attention down to the soft swell of her chest against his own.

Yuuji finally remembers to put his hands on her, and it’s the warmth of her bared midriff that greets him. He squeezes her waist, and she gasps into the kiss, squirming all over, and Yuuji clutches her tighter, marveling at how small she feels there. Kirara’s been smaller than him since they met, but Yuuji’s put on more height and bulk since then, and now, like this, she feels tiny.

He’s thought the same before, whenever he watched her cuddle with Hakari, but those were just casual observations. There’s nothing casual about the warm air growing damp against his mouth or the heat starting to build in every cell in his body.

He kisses her deeper, chasing her tongue back into her mouth, and she makes a soft little noise like she’s shocked somehow, but her mouth is sweet and pliant—the sweetness literal from the soda she was drinking earlier.

Yuuji kisses her until that fruity flavor fades, giving way to the blander, headier heat of a willing mouth.

He touches her more too, sliding his palms over thighs and hips and ass, all covered in the soft fabric of her pants, before returning to the stretch of naked skin between her waistband and her top. He drags a finger down the dip of her spine and palm the small of her back. There are a pair of small indents there, on either side. He fingers those dimples, and she squirms the whole time, her hands roaming his chest and shoulders restlessly. Her mouth stays open and panting throughout, letting Yuuji soak up her taste.

He likes this part—a new body, its flavors and favors.

He drags a hand to the front of her belly, groping the soft flesh there. She lets out a throaty little noise, and her lips move like she’s trying to say something, but it comes out as just muffled noise around Yuuji’s tongue, and when he tries to draw back to let her speak, she just chases him down, kissing him hard and wet.

Yuuji slides his hand right up, squirming under her crop top to cup the swell of a breast.

She jolts, pulling back suddenly. She stares down at her chest, huffing at the uneven bulge on one side of it.

“You men are all the same,” she says, shaking her head.

Yuuji takes in the pink on her cheeks and the red stars in her pupils, which have expanded to a sort of starfish shape—thicker and softer, eating into the both the yellows of her pupils and the purple of her irises.

Sorcerers and their eyes, Yuuji thinks, as if he’s any better with eyes that turn ringed and red whenever he dips too deep into his own well of power.

It’s not a complaint anyway. He’s always liked what eyes like these show.

“I don’t think you’re complaining,” he tells her, punctuating the point by squeezing her breast.

She sucks in a sharp breath, thrusting her chest out in a way that can only be unconscious.

Yuuji slides his hand out from under her top just to grab the hem of it with both hands, making sure to also catch the band of the sports bra she’s wearing under it. He yanks them up, and her tits spill out, bouncing once before settling.

“Yuu-chan!” she gasps, and if it’s meant to be chiding, her voice is too breathless to sell it.

Yuuji still mutters an apology he doesn’t mean, even as he splays his hands along the underside of her ribs, mostly to give himself something to hold while he drinks in the view.

They’re small and plump and perky, with dark nipples pebbled into mouth-watering peaks. When Yuuji raises a hand and cups the one on the right, it covers the whole thing, making her look and feel even smaller.

“Yuu-chan,” she says again, weaker and even more breathless somehow.

“They’re really pretty, senpai,” he tells her.

She blushes bright, and the red stars in her eyes seem to gleam brighter.