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Running Through the Heat

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May 2019

Kaori knew something was wrong by the way Shoma’s body hitched right before he came, as though he wasn’t sure.

“What’s wrong?”

“It feels weird,” he said, pulling out cautiously.

“Shit,” he said.


Kaori sat up.

She saw the thin tear in the condom as Shoma eased it off.

She didn’t know how to react, and so sat blinking for a moment.

“The condom broke?” she asked as Shoma put on boxer-briefs before going to dispose of the condom.  

When he came back, he nodded, his mouth a terse line.

“It felt weird and I didn’t know why.”

He sat next to her on the edge of the futon.

On the floor, she had found one of his shirts and a pair of sweatpants to wear. They both needed to be washed, but she was wet, wet, and didn’t want to get clean clothes sticky. She was nearly dripping, and wondered how much of it was Shoma. The thought terrified her and warmed her all at once.

“What are we going to do?” Kaori heard her own voice rise, like she was prone to hysterics.

“We need the morning after pill,” Shoma said, and he was speaking very slowly.

“Duh,” Kaori said. “I guess we should take a bath and go get it --”

She stood, wanting to throw up, or scream.

“Kaori,” he said, looking up at her with those dark eyes.

“What?” she snapped.

“I don’t think we can go out and get it. Someone may recognize us and then the media will be all over it.”

“I can go out and get it,” she said. “I’m not as well known as you.”

“Okay National Champion and World Silver Medalist,” Shoma said.

“I’m serious!”

“I’m not letting you do this alone.”

He stood up and held her hands, pressing his forehead to hers.

“What do we do?” she whispered after awhile.

“Let me think,” he said


“I know,” he said suddenly.

He let go of her hands and began rummaging through his room, muttering to himself. He flung clothes everywhere, including a sock which landed on Kaori’s head. She sighed as she removed it.

“Your phones are on the bedside table.”

He grunted and grabbed his phones.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He held a finger to his lips as he dialed. She wanted to kick him.

He began to speak. Kaori paid more attention to her anger than his conversation for a little while. But when she listened it made her even angrier.

Shoma tapped out of the phone call.

“You’re sending your manager to get it for us?”

“What?” Shoma said. “We can trust him.”

“That’s just great, Shoma, send someone else to fix it for you, as usual.”

She clapped her hand over her mouth. She hated herself for the pain which bloomed on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she rushed. “I’m just really freaked out.”

He looked miserable as he took her hands again.

“It’s my fault,” he said. “I should have pulled out when it felt weird.”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” she said. “Accidents happen.”

They sat down on the edge of his futon again. On the same futon where, just moments before, they had been enjoying giving one another pleasure while the morning sun illuminated the walls. Over breakfast she was finally going to tell him she loved him. She had thought about it for months now and that’s all she could think of. She loved this scruffy haired, helpless at suit and ties, farting terror. She loved him because he was constant as a pole star, and just as bright. He was straightforward and he worked hard. He made her laugh. And he made her feel safe. But it all seemed rather wrecked now, and the distance between them hurt.

“Think optimistically,” Shoma said a little too cheerfully.

She side-eyed him.

“If you get pregnant it’s not the end of your career. Miki had Sunflower when she was still competing.”

She wanted to punch him, even if he was joking.

He scooted close to her.

“If we have a baby we could name her Rosebud or something. She could be Sunflower’s best friend.”


“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”


She was laughing now. Still worried enough to twist her guts, but it would be all right. She put her arms around Shoma.

“It was one time ,” Shoma said.

She snorted.

“Last week you were pouring milk onto a plate when I was here.”

“It was early,” he grumbled.

“Interesting. You don’t seem to have a problem going down on me when it’s early in the morning.”

He started to blush.

“That’s different .”

“Maybe you just can’t wait to get a taste?”

The roses on his jaw darkened, but he turned and looked at her.

“I like it,” he murmured.

Kaori felt her body softening and despite everything she wanted him again. Wanted her legs wrapped around him and his cock inside her.

“When will your manager be here?” she asked.

“He said maybe two to three hours at most?”

The idea was not fully conscious until then, but at that point it seemed like the best damn idea in the universe, all things considered.


“Hmm?” hi

“Do you know what we can do with those hours?” she whispered in his ear.

“. . . . go down on you?”

“You could fuck me . . . without a condom.”

He looked shocked.

“Kaori, we really shouldn’t after what just happened.”

“But I’m going to take that pill anyways. It won’t hurt.”

He chewed his lower lip in deliberation.

Ah, Shoma, who always wanted to be the good boy. She loved that sweet side of him, even as it made her roll her eyes. You can’t always be good, she’d told him more than once. Sometimes you have to be rude, or mean, or just downright bad.

After giving him a moment, she kissed his forehead.

“It’s okay, we can play games.”

“No, let’s try it. Without a condom,” Shoma said.

“Really? Are you sure?”

He nodded.

“I want to know what you feel like,” he said.

He knew how to sound sultry. He might as well have taken her clothes off, slowly, one piece at a time -- that’s how she felt.

“I want to know what you feel like,” Kaori stammered after a moment.

He got up and slid the door to his bedroom closed, sunlight undulating over the rice paper. Not that it was necessary. Itsuki tended to go to friends’ houses when Kaori visited the apartment, not because he disliked her, but because he knew sex would ensue.

Shoma returned, cupping her chin and running his thumb over her lips before kissing her. She held his face in her hands as the kiss deepened, and she thought of breaking it to tell him she loved him, but she didn’t want it to seem like it was just a moment of passion. So she parted her lips. He followed and their kisses were tongue and just a little teeth, but mostly heat and light. She felt it pooling in her belly, and then between her legs.

He grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her onto the middle of the futon. She laughed as he leapt on top of her and they resumed kissing again. His hand slid under the shirt she wore, squeezing her breasts, caressing her, raking nails lightly over skin, before dipping beneath the waistband of her sweatpants. She sucked in a breath as she felt his finger circling her entrance, her slick outer lips. He rubbed her clit just the way she liked, the way she had shown him, and she felt little red and white jolts in the small of her back. He moved his hand and she whined. He kissed her hard as he pressed a finger inside and rolled his thumb over her clit. She moaned into the kiss, kept moaning as he thrust his finger in and out. He slid in a second finger.  She groaned, gripping his shoulders as he finger fucked her.

He withdrew his fingers. Very slowly, and keeping eye contact with her, he licked and sucked both of them clean.

“Mmm,” he smirked.

“You jerk,” she laughed.

She reached for his boxer-briefs and they smiled, almost shyly, as they began to undress each other. Not unlike the first time they had undressed each other. She knew it was just their first year of dating and things were sunshine, warm and golden, but she liked that they could still be shy around one another.

She tugged his boxer-briefs off and his cock bobbed out, half hard, dusky pink.

He was going to come inside her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it now. Scared, because she’d never let a man come inside her before, and because it made her think of being pregnant. She would rather gnaw her own arm off than be pregnant at nineteen. But at the same time . . . it was Shoma. He would take care of her, no matter what. She didn’t need taking care of, and between the two of them she was more capable. But he would. And she wanted to feel him inside her, bare, just their bodies together.

Shoma pulled her shirt and sweatpants off. She lay on the futon, languishing in the way he looked at her. Her whole body burned as he crept between her legs.

He pushed her thighs open and licked her cunt, a flick of his tongue, just along the surface. He began to suck on her outer lips, first one, then the other, drawing them into his mouth. But she was waiting. Waiting for him to let go of her lips and lean forward just a little. He used his fingers to part her folds and his mouth closed around her clit. Kaori moaned, running her fingers through his hair as he sucked her. Pressed the fingers of his free hand inside her again, scissoring them. He hummed, tongue swirling against her clit, as he thrust in time to the tune. Kaori gasped and bucked, sweating and feeling her orgasm building.

“Don’t stop,” she said, fingers tight in his hair.

Her whole body shuddered with pleasure as she came. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensations, the way her body felt like it glowed. It was like skating a perfectly clean program.

She opened her eyes and looked down at him, licking his lips like the cat who got the cream.

“Was the song you hummed . . . ‘Loco’?” she asked, slightly dazed.

“Piantao, piantao.”

He grinned.

She rolled her eyes.

He crawled up to kiss her and she swatted him away.

“Ew no, go wash your mouth out. I don’t want to taste myself.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips anyways and laughed when she shrieked. He pushed the door open and ran out of the bedroom. She heard him in the bathroom, sloshing mouthwash for a few minutes, before returning and shutting the door behind him again.

He was hard, leaking. It made her throb, even though she had already come.

Kaori spread her legs as he crawled on top of her.

“We don’t have to --” they both said at once, and then laughed.

“I want to, still,” he said, rubbing his hard cock against her wet cunt. “If you don’t want to . . .”

“Fuck me,” Kaori said, holding on to his shoulders. “I want to.”

He nodded and kissed her, slowly. He turned his attention to positioning his cock at her entrance.

She felt it. The throbbing head, the precum, the soft skin, like velvet, sliding in. She’d never felt any of that before.

“Oh,” she said.

He groaned, pressing all the way in.

“Can you feel --?” he asked, his luminous eyes darker than usual.


“Is it good?”


He kissed her with passion then and began to move. She folded her legs around him, until her heels pressed his lower back, urging him on. He was beautiful, panting and moaning above her, his jaw and chest crimson.

She moved in concert with him, arcing up to meet him. She loved the feeling of him inside her. She loved the drag of his head, the heat.

And she loved him, so this felt even more intimate. She closed her eyes and cradled the back of his head as he kissed her shoulder. She imagined a possible future together. A long one, past their skating careers. Maybe even marriage, children.

But that was many years away and might not even be with Shoma.

It didn’t matter though. What mattered was now, their bodies together, and the truth.

Her body was hot as an ember, and they were both moaning, sweating and sticking together. With every thrust, his cock nudged a bright bundle of nerves that made her toes curl. She loved how he felt, love, loved him. He drove into her again and she gasped.

“Shoma,” she managed. “I love you. I love you.”

He looked startled and actually stopped.

“You love me?”


Kaori smacked her forehead.

“I didn’t mean to say it -- I mean yes, I wanted to, but not like this.”

“How did you want to say it?”

“Over breakfast. So you wouldn’t mistake it for just lust.”

He laughed. He was inside her laughing, and she could feel that. His cock softening. But it was the squeaky, crinkly nosed laugh, the best possible laugh, which he only laughed when he was well and truly humored.

“Kaori, we’ve been dating almost a year. I would know it wasn't just lust.”

He pulled out, cautiously, and then flopped on his side, still laughing.

“So it’s okay?” she asked.

“It’s great.” Then he shouted: “Sakamoto Kaori loves me!”

She giggled and he kissed her.

They lay side by side.

“We should probably have a bath before my manager shows up,” Shoma said.

“You didn’t finish,” Kaori reached for his cock. “I wanted to feel you come inside me.”

“I'm not . . . really in the mood. You've made me too happy,” he laughed.

“That's okay,” she said, trying not to sound disappointed.

“Hey,” he cradled her face with one hand. “You know, someone who is very smart told me it was about pleasure, not just getting off.”

She pouted, but he was right. Especially since he was using her own words. It didn't matter that he hadn't come in her. There were more important things.

He ran his fingers down her side.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked in his sultry voice again.

She nodded and kissed him.

“Did you?”


They lay on the futon for awhile, not moving. She liked just looking at him, getting her fill.

“I do love you,” she said.

“I love you too,” he said.