Chapter Text
It was a wonder how Fuuta couldn't hear her. The golden hinges at the door's side squealed under Kotoko's swing. Of course, she didn't kick the door down, though maybe that would've been more her style (she's not willing to pay for the damage repair). A huge rush of chilled air hit her like a wall crashing down against her standing body. Besides the sound of the constant running AC, Kotoko can only hear the aggressive tapping of keycaps by Fuuta. If she had to guess, he was playing one of the many video games he owned on that thing. She felt sure of her answer by the time he screamed "Crap!" into the little mic that wired to his headset. If she could, she would pity the screen that is now being showered by his awful spitting.
The college student wasn't always skipping his classes, though Kotoko acknowledges his knack for getting carried away during his supposed free time. Most of it is spent online. If he wasn't scrolling down his bird app feed, he was definitely on his PC. The woman rolled her shoulders, silently pulling the door shut before approaching a table.
She pushed one of two seats to the side before placing a crinkly plastic bag on top of its counter. It was your typical wooden table. Painted mostly black besides its underside. And the chairs were no more impressive either. Just your standard dinner table chairs–albeit she wasn't situated at a dining table. Water droplets latched onto the bag causing Kotok's hands to catch onto some. She rubs her palm against her ripped shorts to dry it off, soon reaching into the bag and pulling out a few familiar items. One being a can of dark coffee and the other a sparkling soda of sorts. There were a couple other items in the bag, but she was thirsty most of all right now. Kotoko turned her back against the table, leaning her hip against it. She grabbed the brown and green lined can, popping the lid right off.
The twenty year old chugged one or two full gulps of that black coffee. She let out a refreshed sigh, turning to peer at her uninviting company. On the other side of the room is the other twenty year old. Seated in his black and red gaming chair, clacking furiously at his keyboard, dragging his mouse to the very edges of his mousepad in fume fueled focus. Fuuta grits his teeth as he continues clicking. His pupils dart left and right then back to the center. Click, click, click….He finally lets out an extremely frustrated growl ending with the click of his tongue.
"SHIT! Gah!! Why isn't anybody watching my back, hah?! This team is SUCH a pain."
The redhead releases his hands from his setup, flying his head backwards into the seat's backrest. Because of how hard he hit the back, he sent his chair rolling inches backward while also twirling it to the side. Kotoko now has a clear view of his scrunched up face full of irritation. He too catches sight of his sudden companion, only releasing a tick of his annoyance at her image. In her hand, she rolls her wrist as the lasting coffee is shaken around along its circular motion. Furrowed eyebrows and her practical resting face–a lot would call an RBF paired with a cruel frown. Her expression showed the least amusement one could make up. Fuuta pulls the headphones off his head letting it rest around his neck, he still keeps it in his grasp. He eyes her meticulously, quirking an eyebrow just enough so she couldn't notice.
'Why is she here? Doesn't she have better things to do? Places to go? Tch. Loser.'
His gray eyes trail from her crimson eyes all the way down her arms to a tapping finger, which rested beside a can of soda pop, pulling down the white bag which held a little something Fuuta knew quite well. Even if he only saw the cusp of its container, he was certain that was it. But even if he was a hundred percent sure..
"What is that?"
Kotoko lowers her eyes slightly at the still seated Fuuta. He had leaned forward now sitting closer to the seat's edge from previously resting back. Her eyes shift toward the item in question as she unravels the bag further.
"Hm? You don't recall it seems."
The trio, Fuuta, Mikoto, and Kotoko, often hung around in Fuuta's apartment. Mikoto and Kotoko being particular regulars to their friend's abode. Raiding his fridge wasn't a rare occurrence. However after a couple months, Fuuta had better things to be concerned about. Besides, they pay in full by stocking it up themselves. During some time in the fall, Kotoko had whole handfuls of treats. Someone she knew had a culinary class where they all tried branded dessert treats, one of them being a custard pudding. The class had extra, and everyone took some home but this person was lactose intolerant. Kotoko was never a big fan of sweets, but said someone informed that it would be thrown out otherwise. Perhaps the other two would like them, she could only think. As expected, she accepted them all, filling up almost half of the door full of the petite glass jars of pudding. Kotoko could've cared so much less about what happened to all this food. She was the least inclined to consume any of it.
While the group was relaxing sometime after, she had informed them of all the pudding in the fridge. Mikoto soon perked up, but not for the reason that there were so many goods waiting for him. Incidentally, he was also lactose intolerant, something neither of the other two had known about. That was a little shock. They all turned to Fuuta. Though Fuuta being Fuuta, only complained in a heartbeat that he couldn't finish all that pudding, commenting he would get bored of the flavor too fast. His two friends only gave him doubtful glares as both started thinking about the numerous cans of a specific energy drink he can blast through in a singular day. Kotoko shrugged and told that she couldn't bother giving to anybody else. The end plan was to just wait until it goes bad if neither Fuuta nor Kotoko could wipe them all out. Fuuta indirectly agreed and Mikoto's opinion had no value.
Not a few days passed, Kotoko was scavenging for some food at Fuuta's place when she opened the fridge to a nearly empty door. All the shelves were cleared save the last one with barely enough packages to split between the three if they even wanted. Huh. Wonder who ate it all. Kotoko grabbed what she needed and went to dispose of some waste when, low and behold, at the bottom pits of the garbage bin were petite glass jars, all emptied. It was quite the amusing sight to see, though Kotoko never mentioned the finding to either male. It was a simple learning of her friend's indulgence that she sweetly kept to herself.
Coincidentally, it just so happened she bought the same exact brand of pudding this time back from her errands. Was that for him? Fuuta squints his eyes at Kotoko, looking back down around the bag. There was even soda, but anybody knew that that girl preferred any other (even if only slightly) healthier beverages to your typical soft drinks. What broke his train of thought was her reaching in to grab the little container. She lifted it up, holding it between her well-maintained claws. Tilting it left and right, she watched as Fuuta was entranced by its presence right there. It was almost unbelievable to think that someone as rough and rebellious as him would become so attached to something so plain.
"Psh — What kind of a look was that?"
The young woman turned to the side at his inane reaction, to which Fuuta's frown grows. The gamer tilts his head as he tries to figure out what she's doing. Before he can find out, she had already looked back with her resting face, a smallest of cracks forming at the tip of her lips. It's a slanted grin grown from a tired face. Fuuta looks at his friend, puzzled, frustration still lasting from his losing game, he's quick to come to conclusions on her intentions. Faint ticking from his headset signals the continuation of his game queuing up. Kotoko's weak grin turns back down.
"You don't want this?"
"Tch. Like you have anyone else to give it to."
Kotoko raises an eyebrow. She eyes the jar in her hand.
"Oh? You're right. I suppose I could treat myself once in a while."
She turns back to Fuuta, whose hands were no longer on his headphone's headband. They gripped at the arm rests on his both sides. There he goes getting all fired up. That's our Fuuta for you. The ticking that only he can hear soon ceases, ending in a short blast of ethereal audio from the video game. That's when he snaps, releasing his headset, pushing off his chair and starting toward Kotoko's way, a fierce smile gradually forming on his lips. Kotoko places her coffee onto the table, still gripping the pudding in her hands as she starts avoiding Fuuta's advancements. She doesn't return a look of entertainment as she walks to different areas of the room. Shaking it she taunts the boy.
"I didn't know you liked this thing so much. You should've told me."
"Hah. You're annoying– You already knew for a while, haven't you!"
Fuuta launches his hand close to Kotoko's face, attempting to grab the jar in the process, but Kotoko is faster. She takes a step back and twirls around.
"Don't know what you're on about."
"Tch. Don't fuck with me. Why'd you buy that? You barely helped me when you brought home a whole shopping basket full of it."
He jumps back at her. The second continuation of ticking from his headset grows loud enough for them both to hear. It only pushed Fuuta's aggression.
"You handled it quite well by yourself."
Kotoko dodges.
"Oh, so you did catch on. You're such a shitty bitch, you know?!"
"You're being irritating right now..Stop acting like a fucking kid."
The male swings his arms again only for Kotoko to pull it over her head. Her drooping eyes glare daggers at his enraged barking.
"Huh? YEAH!? I'm not the one baiting someone just to TEASE !! What the hell are you even doing this for?? You're the one..Gah!"
The female continues escaping his furious attacks. It's been a good five maybe even six months since her discovery of his fondness for the dessert (also when it ran out). So sure he wants it but…
Does something so childish as this have to go so far?? Kotoko!
Malice laced into the woman's tone as she scowls. She could feel a cold moistness form on the glass in her palm; Though it's been an hour since it was last chilled.
"Ugh. Back off idiot.."
A soreness slowly took over her arm. The waving of the item in the air grew into a faltering reach to maintain its place. Her breaths started getting heavy. She blinked at a rapid pace, looking Fuuta dead in his bold pupils. Fuuta caught on to her sluggish movements, retorting right in her disoriented face.
"Grh..You brat! FUCK YOU!!"
Fuuta was one second away from throwing himself on top of the girl. Kotoko snapped out of it. Grunting, she threw a kick at his chest. In jumbled confusion, Fuuta stumbled backwards not on the floor yet. He grabbed at a bulb of his bed frame right behind him. Able to recover himself in just a split second before..Kotoko does exactly what he was about to do to her. There was no room to plan what to do next. All he could ask himself was:
'When did she get so aggressive..What the fuck??'
By the time he had enough in him to cuss under his breath, his wrists had been latched onto. His back hit the cushioned mattress in a loud paff. He couldn't tell whether the girl had knocked the wind out of him or if something so heavy was resting atop his chest he couldn't get any air in because he was practically wheezing out. His skin tenses under her fierce grip, only growing tighter and tighter as Fuuta tries to wrestle himself out.
'Hah?! What is going on with this woman?! Get off….GET OFF!!!!'
One singular eye of his forces opened to peer under him. And for sure..there was a dark head stapled to his chest. It was so heavy, like she was attempting to push herself under his pale skin. He was getting pinned at both sides by her knees. His legs dangled at the edge of the bed, kicking furiously. He twisted his waist as much as he could, but he wasn't budging as much as he anticipated. She was heavy, but not in the sense that this was by her weight.
"URGH! Koto– hah– Kotoko….hah– Get off!!!!"
His hands were sinking into the bed by the crude force of Kotoko. And to make it even worse, she kept her firm constraint while slithering her fingers between his own rough ones. She curled them around his knuckles, gripping them with so much pressure, her nails were near piercing his skin. It hurt..It really fucking hurts! He winces under his breath, as he seizes her own hands with as much as strength as he could scrape, hoping that she would release sooner than anytime later. He grunts in aggravation at the conclusion it is not helping whatsoever. Fuuta feels an unsettling warmth come from the center of his abdomen suck in and out. The body that arches over his own pumps up and releases in shaking tensity. Her faint voice was muddled under the coarse whimpers of her lungs. A shiver runs down his entire body.
"You B-BITCH!!! Come..Agh..COME ON!! Just.."
By his cracking tone, the girl on top of his body timidly decompressed to a limp state. Her fingers no longer stabbed at his skin. Her head rested atop his body. Her breathing had caused her body to still pump up and down as her arms could barely resist the shuddering of her entire person. Kotoko was still heavy, but he could breathe now. Fuuta's chest raised then sunk in an exasperated sigh. Right then, he sucked in a hoarse inhale about to explode. Before another sound could leave his weary lips he had looked down again.
The fazed look in his eyes couldn't be seen by Kotoko. The gleam in her eyes couldn't be seen by Fuuta. Neither could quite read their own spaces well. His current glare mellows as the only thing he can pick up right now is 'she isn't looking. This isn't just whatever….what the hell man.'
The hands that lay on his own share the sticky sweat that felt cold to the touch. He pulls back, Kotoko's hand falling to his sides as they slowly crawl behind him. Fuuta sits back, pushing himself up so that Kotoko too is seated; Even if on his lap, he really couldn't stand the weight. Despite her being taller than him, she had seemed smaller this way, arms pulled inward and head still leaned against Fuuta's heat filled chest. The male looked up toward the ceiling to avoid breathing on her head, despite her doing quite the exact opposite. Not that he could feel it; His hood was too thick for him to be sensitive of it.
Fuuta looks back down. They're both surrounded by silence, that is regarding any conversation. The sounds coming from his computer still ran. The voices rung faintly being channeled through the headphones. All that registered through Fuuta's ears were three things: His breathing, her breathing, and the extreme beating in his chest. The raw adrenaline running through his blood overwhelmed his thoughts. It was the abnormal silence that couldn't give him a break either. Kotoko was never this provocative with herself. She was typically blunt. If she had something to say, no matter how vile, she would speak it. But Fuuta can tell her mind wasn't satisfied even if her person had given in. Like a child after a fit. But even a child could tell you straight up what he or she wanted. Kotoko remained silent.
The redhead scratched behind his ear. He shut his eyes. Clearly annoyed but he didn't make much of a peep, to his own surprise. There was a disturbance stirring in the air that he didn't want to make leak in case it bursted to complete ruin. The male turns to look at his monitor. Red splattered everywhere around his screen. He couldn't even return and continue playing because of this mess. He can hear the voices of angry players question his whereabouts. A grumble erupts from within him. Why did it have to be him? Did it matter if it had been Mikoto instead? What would go down if they were both present? Would Kotoko harass him the same way? Fuuta wanted to make up all the excuses in the world to punish this woman and switch to any other place. He just wanted out.
Suddenly he jumps at Kotoko suddenly pressing her forehead into his top. It was like before, but softer. Fuuta bites his inner lip. His eyes narrow into the nothingness around him. He's never had to deal with people as directly as now. And more less their moments of weakness. Fuuta's head couldn't bear the thought of keeping his ridicule to himself. If this was some random girl he somehow crossed at the wrong place at the wrong time, he would've spent nothing for that waste of time. But now? Now..now…
His vision faintly blurs in and out while he grasps at his right eye. Could anything be more confusing than women? And of all of them Kotoko? Is this some phase all women go through? Like PERIODS?? Fuuta bites back a curse. Yeah..he totally got caught up in one of these "mood swings" women are rumored to go through, huh? At least, that's what he so confidently believes. Since, well, he isn't a girl, he's just gonna have to assume the worst! Guess even someone like Kotoko can't bypass the laws of nature. Shiit..what to do…what..
After spending a fraction of a moment planning, the college student finally groans. Is he really going to do this? What he has planned in his head might not even work. Not because he doesn't have the will, but he probably has the ability to fuck it up (aka topple over the obviously bigger person here). Fuuta swallows down the growing lump in his throat. He takes his arms, wrapping his left around her waist. The other is readied beside him. Fuuta breathes in, then out. Three..Two…One! He jumps off the bed, scooping up the rest of Kotoko with his right. Instinctively she holds him in her own arms as well, still quiet as ever. He does a subtle hop to keep up a good hold, sighing with relief followed by a growl to her name.
"..God dammit, Kotoko.."
Fuuta turns around so that he now faces the bed. Pushing his knee into the mattress, he leans downward to gently place the girl down. He quickly turns away, not daring to take a glance at her face. She..doesn't want that. Huh. Seated on his bed, barely a foot away from Kotoko's laying body, he folds his hands together, inhaling from his fingers. He's leaned all the way forward sitting very still, save his heavy breathing. God…What a recovery. Ugh. This is so….frustrating. The male runs his hands up from rubbing his eyes, through his hairline, then inward into his messy locks. His scarlet bangs fall back as he exhales. Whether it was out of annoyance anymore, he couldn't tell..just glad to be out, he's sure. Very sure.
'Mikoto I don't know what the fuck you're doing right now but..please send me strength, we've befriended a damn psycho (also known as a WOMAN).'
If this is what having a girlfriend is like, Fuuta wants absolutely none of it. This is just robbing him of his own humanity. The gamer moves some hair away from his eyes. He looks over at his PC, the frown he had soon disappearing. Hearing the distressed voices of people he will never see again on the internet brings him to some sense of normalcy. He..should go back to his games. If he remembers correctly, he heard some shuffling just seconds before. Maybe it's okay to look at Kotoko now, even if it wasn't like anything was gonna happen if he didn't, right?
His head turns. Surely enough, she was now facing the opposite directly. He overlooked her entire figure. She rested on her side, her arms probably tucked away toward her front. Whether her eyes were shut or not, he could only hope for the former. It was probably best she slept anyway. He heard taking naps when you're stressed is good. Wouldn't it be harder to sleep if there was never ending anxiety clouding your mind? He had never tried it, and doesn't plan on doing so. A baffled Fuuta scratches behind his head rapidly. Something distracts him before he makes his final move to depart the bed. He isn't quite sure if it would make him content or whatever, but he sure as hell can't shake off the urge that dreadfully bubbles up to his sour surface.
Fuuta rises from the mattress and reaches over to the foot of the bed, where a neatly folded throw sits. Pulling it across the bed, he carefully lets it settle right below the woman's shoulders. It wasn't the most thick of blankets, but that was because Fuuta often wore hoodies to bed. He didn't need much more coverage than that; The male never anticipated someone else to be sleeping here, ever. Unfortunately for the one who is, she strictly wore a sports bra and shorts anywhere she went. If she needed any more layers, it would be covered by a zip up hoodie matching previously mentioned shorts. Though it looks to Fuuta that the sun had beat her up enough today to the point she couldn't find any good reason to bring it to his forever frigid room. Not that he has much to say about it. At least now, she wouldn't catch hypothermia..maybe.
"I don't know what you want." He mutters.
His eyes drop to face the empty space of bed beside her. He's convinced,
"Whatever the hell is it you want..I don't have it. God….What is up with you today.."
A huff escapes Fuuta. He brings his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes then the rest of his skin. An exhausted groan erupts from under the young man's tongue. His attention gravitates toward the monitor. Fuuta's eyebrows furrow. Finally..he can go back to playing. Or talking. And complaining. Or teasing.. The disheveled student aggressively shakes his head, turning around and taking his first step away..
'I don't get it..I really don't. I can go back now, right? Kotoko you.. Agh. Whatever. I'm going back–'
Before Fuuta can even distance himself half a foot away from where the bed ends, he hears the harsh squeaking of springs. Grey eyes widen as the breath he was taking in leaves him in an ugly instant. A force jerks him backward to the point he trips back into the bed, right on top of someone else's lap.
"What the f–!!"
Fuuta springs back up, but can't go further than sit because there are arms wrapped around his stomach, keeping him back from escaping the position. What's more is the pair of legs that clung onto him. Just like the arms, they kept him in place; More specifically they kept his hips and legs from inching any closer to leaving. The two young adults were sat closer to the center than the end, and Kotoko was sure keeping it that way.
Fuuta struggled infinitely between Kotoko's hold, his reserve only weakening by the second. He could feel her too, struggling not only in forcing him to stay put, but also pacing her breath. It was like she was overtaken by an illness. Her breath quickened at times and others she was taking the heaviest exhales he's ever seen her take. Sometimes her sighs were so brief, you could mistaken them for her easy breathing; This was a first. He thrashed under her strength and under her no signs of letting go. Ngh-!! Fuuta grunted as he tried to make his last pull the hardest for Kotoko to control… But ever since the beginning, he had always underestimated the girl's sheer physical power. Again..he couldn't budge. And this time around, Kotoko's attitude was really starting to piss him off.
"Kotoko…." Fuuta's raspy vocals rung.
Scarlet locks fell past his face, covering his eyes which grimaced over his lap. Kotoko, once again, had placed her head against his spine. Heat spread across his back, dissipating into cold air, only for the warmth to return in full a moment later. He felt his bones wanting to crack. His desire for skin to start melting. An awful feeling started to stir again. Where that gut feeling was trying to direct Fuuta, couldn't be distinguished from complete, utter disgust. The thumping of his chest started up again. Fuuta breathes as if his life depended on it. His throat itching to down the ball of saliva accumulating from his panting tongue. A sweetness coated his teeth. A hideous sweetness tasting from his own spit. The male can practically see his own breath form a cloud which disappeared at the touch of his broken glance.
"Yuzuriha….Let me go."
Kotoko's legs tightened around him. Fuuta heard a shuffle. All that was left was the gunshots of his abandoned video game dying in the background. Fuuta clenched his teeth, holding a fist.
"What do you WANT?!..Hey, Kotoko. You know..I don't know!! I seriously.."
Fuuta caught sight of the pudding jar that sat still away from their feet. He jerked his head to the side.
"So JUST–"
"Stay."
"...Hah?"
The woman's forehead rubbed into the dissolving curve of his back. She's speaking. The voice was the smallest Futa's ever heard. The bold canine who would always speak like she was the leader of everything and she was always right was groaning like an injured puppy at this very moment. Fingers pressed against his stomach. Kotoko's hug closed tighter around his upper waist. So much so, she could feel his rib cage push up. He could definitely feel that too. It hurt.
"I– Gh ..I really have to–!"
"Bed. Now."
Fuuta cleared his throat with a nasty growl.
'After making me go through all that, she'd DEMAND from me! Oh you b…b-!'
"GAH –! You're going to tell me what you ACTUALLY want. Not some joking around! I'm done with you! You..you hear–"
"I'm not."
"..."
"Get in."
Fuuta scrunched up his nose. What is all this possessiveness all about? He just wanted to relax and spend his free time right. And now she's commanding him left and right. This is..this is–!
"Please."
'Begging? Requesting? Finally she answers..I GUESS. But Kotoko. I can't. I,'
'Someone who can keep up with my talk level.' Something a younger Fuuta once replied to a question about girls. Whether it was from a distant friend of his from school or a viral tweet..he can't exactly remember. Was this someone who can talk at his level capable of being so provoking? He's still uncertain about what the hell is going on. Reading this chilly room is like attempting to decipher a novel written in a different language every paragraph. Liking? Affection? This physical touch..He doesn't get any of it. Kotoko didn't act like someone who cared for it either! Even something like sharing a bed with a female was an idea Fuuta denied to foresee. Isn't this kind of bad?! Fuuta fidgeted with his hair in vexation as he considered what would happen to be really fucking cringe.
"....Fine."
The woman's grip loosened, only slightly.
"If you run.."
"I won't, stupid."
Her head lifted from his sticky back. Her legs undid, resting right beside both of his own. Her arms ragdolled onto his lap.