Rating: PG-13, maybe light R?
Warnings: light sexual content
Word count: 660
Summary: The road to many a relationship was paved with stupid ideas
It had been a stupid idea, he thought frantically, to invite her to stay in their apartment for the duration of Minami’s wedding. All he’d been thinking about was that there was suddenly empty space, a hollow ringing where Minami and Mariko had been, and that it was a chance to see Yankumi again. Keep an eye on her, make sure she didn’t somehow end up destroying the wedding cake or starting a fistfight in the reception hall.
“Er.” His voice was dry, surprised.
“Er,” she repeated. Her eyes were wide, pupils shot and somehow unseeing, even as they stared at him.
“Er,” he tried to start again, but couldn’t. He fumbled for his jeans on the floor wildly, almost flailing. She knelt and carefully scooped up his shirt, handing it to him. His voice came back to him. “Just what the hell did you think you were doing?” he demanded, panic raising his voice to a squeaky yell.
Kumiko flinched, blushing. “I’m sorry; I’ll just…go over here now,” she waved in the general direction of the couch, visible behind her in the living room through the—previously closed—bathroom door. “By myself,” she clarified awkwardly. “I’ll go…over here. By myself.”
She closed the door behind herself with a soft snick and Shin threw himself at the sink, splashing water onto his face with shaking hands. He managed to use the towel he’d hastily thrown on to dry off and pull on the clothes he’d left out to wear, but stopped short of leaving the room. He was still staring at his reflection in the mirror when Kumiko pounded on the door ten minutes later.
“Are you decent yet?” she asked, almost timidly, as he swung the door open reluctantly.
“I…what the hell, Yankumi?” he floundered, staring down at her. “You can’t just—I’m going to have to replace the door frame. My landlord’s going to kill me.”
“…my name,” she muttered. Shin hoped he’d misheard her, but no such luck. “You were calling my name.”
“You were calling my name, and I thought you were hurt,” she said, her voice growing in strength, awareness dawning in her eyes.
“You were spanking it and you called my name and I was on the other side of the door and I thought you were hurt.”
“I was—…what?” Shin wanted desperately to die. “Yankumi—”
“That’s not the name you said,” she said, almost childishly. “You were…you said ‘Kumiko’ and you were…and I thought you were hurt!”
“Oh my god,” Shin moaned, slumping against the splintery doorjamb. “I don’t…. Why were you listening?”
“I was just walking by on my way to the kitchen,” she said defensively. “You were the one calling out people’s names in abandoned passion!”
“Yanku—Kumiko,” he hastily corrected at a look. “I was…look, I’m sorry—”
“What?” her voice was shrill. “Why are you sorry? I know I’m not some AV star, but aren’t I good enough?”
“You’re plenty good enough, Yan—Kumiko.” He regretted saying it instantly. “Not that I compare you to AV stars, anyway.” Kumiko stared at him. “Not that you aren’t pretty enough! I just don’t always think of you like that…. There’s no way out of this conversation, is there?”
Silence. Then, “…you do think of me that way?” Shin took in the thunderstruck expression on her face as finally, finally all of the pieces fit together.
“…Yeah,” he admitted. “I mean, you saw….”
What she’d seen was only the most mind-shattering orgasm of his life—he’d been shaking, weak-kneed, fist flying, leaned against the wall of the shower coming like he’d never come before, wailing her name because he’d thought she was out shopping for a last-minute wedding gift. He’d been dead wrong.
Kumiko’s eyes were huge and her cheeks very pink as she stared, then nodded.
“…You think of me that way?” he asked hopefully.
Kumiko slowly shook her head. “Not…not until then.”