Nakatsu had spent a lot--a lot--of time wishing that Mizuki was a girl. Not that Mizuki hadn't already been perfect, but the whole sexual identity crisis she'd inspired hadn't been good for Nakatsu's mental health. The months and months (and months) of trauma, and soul searching, and confused masturbatory fantasies had all been for nothing.
Not that Nakatsu was complaining! So what if he'd gone a little bit crazy, jerking off to the thought of touching Mizuki's dick under a pretty, flippy little skirt? He had won Mizuki over with his sincerity, and dedication (and there was no way he would ever tell Mizuki that he'd wondered what her cock would feel like, hot and hard in his hand).
He was in love, and it didn't matter if Mizuki was a boy, or a girl, or. . . an alien. A transgendered alien. Whatever. The point was he was in love. And, unless he was wildly misreading the situation, about to get laid.
Which was, actually, where the problem arose. Nakatsu had spent a lot of time thinking about Mizuki, and sex, and having sex with Mizuki. But Mizuki hadn't been a girl in any of those fantasies, and now Nakatsu had no idea what to do with the half-naked girl in his bed. He was looking at Mizuki--a girl's--breasts! They were small. But hot. And small. Nakatsu's hands were calloused and scrapped from the game earlier that day, and what if he hurt Mizuki?
A girl's first time was supposed to be special. It was supposed to be magical. Nakatsu felt ungainly, and slow, and completely unsuitable. He was going to mess up, and Mizuki was going to hate him. If she'd still been a boy, Nakatsu could have jerked her off. He had lots of practice, after all, and a dick was a dick, right? But all Nakatsu knew about girl parts, he'd learned from the guys in the dorm, and the porn they'd smuggled into their rooms and jacked off to together (and hey, that had been a bit gay!)
Mizuki's face was pink. She was adorable. "Nakatsu?"
"You're a girl!" Nakatsu wailed.
She was going to button up her shirt! Nakatsu might not have been sure what he was doing, but he knew that was bad. Very, very bad! Boobies good!
"Yes?" Mizuki said. She looked embarrassed, and a little apologetic.
"That's good!" Nakatsu said desperately. "That's very good! Please don't put your shirt back on!"
Mizuki looked at him.
Nakatsu stared back.
"Nakatsu," Mizuki said slowly, "I don't know what's wrong."
"Nothing is wrong," Nakatsu said. "Everything is good. Great. Wonderful!"
Mizuki didn't look reassured. Where had all of his sparkling wit and charm gone when he really, truly needed it? Nakatsu was close to getting laid. So very close. He was about to become a man, and he couldn't stop panicking long enough to enjoy the moment. Not that there was going to be a moment, if he didn't do something. Stuff. Anything would do.
Mizuki jumped when Nakatsu pressed his open palm to her breast. Nakatsu yelped, jerked back, and fell off the bed. He stared at the ceiling in abject humiliation. This had to be the worst sex in the whole history of bad sex.
Mizuki peeked at him over the edge of the mattress. "Sorry," she said.
Nakatsu waved off her concern. "It's okay," he said miserably, "it's fine."
Mizuki sighed, and dropped her head so that her face was hidden behind her folded arms. "Nakatsu. . . I lived in the dorm with a bunch of guys. After 'movie night,' there's nothing you can do that will shock me."
Well, shit. He'd even asked Mizuki what she'd thought of the actress' breasts ("she's hot, huh, Mizuki? I wouldn't kick her out of my bed. Not a hot woman. Not me, no way.") He'd watched porn with Mizuki! Mizuki had seen his--
"I feel so exposed," Nakatsu whimpered.
"You kept looking at me," Mizuki said slowly, voice muffled behind her arms.
Nakatsu dropped his head back to the floor. Hard. The flickering images on the screen hadn't been half as interesting as Mizuki. She'd sat, utterly still, among the shifting bodies of their doormmates. Her eyes had been round, mouth open. Nakatsu had wanted to crawl over to her, push Mizuki onto her back and drag his palm over her erection.
"I thought you suspected that I was a girl," Mizuki said. "I was so worried. I was terrified."
"I didn't know," Nakatsu said. He wouldn't have dragged Mizuki with him if he'd known. He would have trampled over his friends getting Mizuki out of the room, if he'd known. Nakatsu had been too busy thinking about sucking at Mizuki's throat to wonder why she wasn't joining in with the other guys.
"I didn't know why you were looking at me then. I didn't figure it out for a long time." Mizuki lifted her head, and locked eyes with Nakatsu. "I know now, Nakatsu, and it's okay."
Nakatsu's face flamed. "You know--"
"I like you, Nakatsu. And--" Mizuki drew in a deep breath, and rushed forward: "and I want you."
Okay, that was good. That was great! Mizuki looked embarrassed, but not disgusted. She didn't hate him, and wasn't thinking of running away. A plus, a definite plus. Mizuki wanted him, and he wanted her. Sex was looking like a definite possibility again.
Nakatsu had been waiting for this moment for his entire life.
"Mizuki," Nakatsu breathed.
"Nakatsu," she said.
"I think I pulled my back when I fell off the bed."
Mizuki pulled her shirt into place. Nakatsu closed his eyes and tried not to cry.