The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

Chocolate and Kisses

Apr
30

Typically, it was the boy walking the girl home from school, but Kukuri was the most familiar with Ashinaka and had once served as a guide to Kuroh. It was natural for her to keep walking him back to the dorm at times, especially on days when Shiro promised to keep Neko out, generally with a promise of “Shopping!” or “Food!” explained by Neko as she hung off him excitedly and he blushed a little and waved in his sheepish innocent manner.

It was White Day, one of those days, and Kukuri didn’t need to hear the promises and reassurances that this time, they wouldn’t come back early and Neko wouldn’t be extremely curious about dates and Valentine’s Day and eat half of the chocolates Kukuri gave to Kuroh, because Shiro took her all the way out of town for the day and they wouldn’t be back until morning.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Kuroh commented, leaving space for her to object. He was still that brand of chivalrous that barely allowed himself alone with her, despite the fact that their relationship was now a settled thing, she was old enough for every single thing they’d tried so far, and she’d almost graduated.

“Of course not.” She smiled and watched his face soften with relief and affection.

His family could be a bit much sometimes, but she loved all of them. Still, it was nice to have a date night without them for a little while.

Dinner was as fantastic as always. “You’re such a good cook,” she said mournfully. “I’ll never be this good.” And it wasn’t a point of jealousy, of course, that Neko far preferred Kuroh’s bentos to Kukuri’s. (It was, but there was no help for that.)

“Your cooking is excellent,” he countered her. “I enjoyed the chocolates.”

Neko had too, Kukuri considered thoughtfully.

But then he was giving her chocolates, and she let the sweetness melt on her tongue and it was so, so good. Almost as good as when he finally kissed her, finally whispered her name, “Kukuri,” in her ear like she was something precious and she shivered with the warmth of it, remembering every time he’d held her close like this, from the moment she’d awakened in his arms after the Incident, uncertain and afraid.

He was comfort and strength to her and she murmured his name back up into his mouth before kissing him with more longing than she knew how to hold in.

There was no one else here, but even so, she giggled when he paused blushing as she unbuttoned her blouse. Someday, maybe it would be his hands unwrapping her. It was enough that he wrapped her up in his worshipful touch when they were both bare to each other at last, that he covered her neck and face and mouth and hair with slow warm kisses and cradled her in his embrace.

She ran her hands over his strong shoulders, wrapped her fingers in his long silken hair, and sighed contentedly when he entered her at last, gasping her name softly, just the way she liked it. She loved this feeling and held him close as long as she could.

Typically, it was the girl cooking dinner for the boy and the boy walking her home from school. Typically, they weren’t snuggled up in his bed after dinner with the family safely away for the night and giggling as they shared stories about his family, her studies and plans and dreams, and their mutual plans in the department of a friendly cooking rivalry.

Kukuri was too happy to ever worry about what was typical. “Neko can judge,” she said, regarding their baking contest tomorrow.

Kuroh looked grumpy. “Neko likes everything.”

Kukuri pulled him down for another kiss. She liked everything too.

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