The Unintentional Seduction Of Chiba Mamoru
Chapter 1: Prologue
Chiba Mamoru was probably the very worst person for this job that Usagi could have asked.
He knew he was a good teacher. Throughout high school and now medical school he'd tutored a lot of students in lower grades, helped out here and there. He was good at explaining, good at demonstrating, good at working himself into a problem in a way that made the solution not only work but also put it into terms that were easy to understand and follow.
But as fate (read: Tsukino Usagi) would have it, Mamoru had been tasked with teaching the woman he'd been top hat over heels in love with ever since he was 17 to seduce another man.
Mamoru would never have thought he'd be in a position to teach anything in the realms of sexuality to anyone. Ever. Definitely not someone as confident and at home in her skin and as wonderfully, imperfectly perfect Usagi-fucking-Tsukino. And he certainly would never have thought that it would freak him out the way it did if he ever came into a position where intimacy with Tsukino Usagi would even slightly be in the cards for him.
It freaked him out. It freaked him out freakishly hard.
How did this even happen?
If he really had to pinpoint a start, it was earlier this year, in summer, when he ran into her at Juuban Matsuri in her cute pink-and-bunnies Yukata that made his eyes tear in a level of adorableness he simply couldn't bear, and then simply… stuck with her for a little while.
She'd been so late her friends had already left; she'd been browsing on her own, and for once, seemed to not mind his company.
He hadn't even planned to actually spend time at that festival. He'd had to get to class, was just taking a look. But it wasn't the first time he'd skipped class to stay in her vicinity for a little while longer.
They'd stood in line for what she claimed was the best soft serve ice cream at the festival, bantering and rolling their eyes and doing his stupid-people version of flirting that Usagi never seemed to understand the way it was intended, and when she'd wolfed hers down in record speed, he simply didn't agree.
She threw him a look, and he licked at his melting ice cream once more, very half-heartedly.
Her eyes turned into an accusing glare and he simply shrugged. "It's… really not that good."
And then she grabbed his wrist, yanked it down, ice-cream cone and all, and licked at it.
His eyes widened, and his reaction probably wouldn't have been this intense if the touch of her frankly tiny fingers so daintily wrapped around his wrist hadn't thrown him for such a loop. "ODANGO," he'd hollered. "That was mine!"
She threw him a pointed look. "You held it out like that! And it's MELTING! You're clearly not enjoying it!"
"Just because it's there doesn't mean you get to steal my food."
And at that, she'd fluttered that disarming, small smile at him. The one that played around her lips, the one that made her eyes shine in such enticing challenge. God, he was so absolutely gone for this girl, it wasn't even funny. "Clearly, you do not understand how this brain of mine operates," she threw at him.
Oh, such an easy prompt...
He smirked, leaned a little down towards her. "Oh, so there IS a brain in there."
She rolled her eyes so prettily. And as if to spite him, to punish him for his jerkery, she poked her pretty tongue out and licked his ice cream again.
This time, he held it out towards her a little, licking his lips.
"Besides, I get to lick anything I want, baka." She threw him a wink, her lips glistening with the milky treat he was still holding on to.
He raised both eyebrows. "Oh, do you now?"
He was almost embarrassed over how breathy his voice had suddenly turned.
She eyed his melting ice cream in the most adorable, utmost concern. "Now give me that, you don't deserve it," she stated.
He chuckled. "And what do we say for that?"
She glared at him. "You don't even want it."
Who was he kidding, of course he'd hand it over. But he so loved to see her glare.
"You're just gonna make me beg for it," she glowered up at him.
The smirk stretched back across his lips. He couldn't even help it. There was nothing he could do about it.
"Oh, sweet Usagi," he purred, leaning down and glinting at her with all the theatrics he had in him. And it was a lot. He was Tuxedo Mask after all. "I always want you to beg for it. It's so much better when you beg."
Just that this time… this time she hadn't danced this dance they'd been dancing for five agonizing years right back. She hadn't rolled her eyes and slapped his arm, she hadn't shrieked at him. Instead… instead she'd blushed, and she'd looked up at him wide-eyed, almost on her tiptoes… and for a second there… For a second there his traitorous heart had thought she was leaning in, and like a fool he leaned in back and…
And then nothing had happened.
But, if he had to pick an incident that had jumpstarted this agonized state of pure horrifying torture for him, he was pretty sure that had been it.
Did she… did she finally return his feelings? At least somewhat? Was something… finally happening here?
But when he saw her next, and she'd been nervous – Usagi Tsukino, NERVOUS! - he'd clamped up. Reacted aloof and hostile and wanted to smack himself real fucking bad.
The atmosphere had changed. When he ran into her from that day on she… had she always blushed when they'd collided like that?
It threw him for a very torturing, over-analyzing loop.
By the time she finally got the words out he'd been an absolute nervous wreck. The day before she finally approached him had been the pinnacle of agony for him.
She'd been weird for days beforehand. Weeks, almost! But that day? At Crown?
It had been the sixth time she'd glanced his way that day - turned or gotten up and then shrunk in on herself before she lost her nerve for whatever it was that she was trying to get her nerve up. (Yes, of course he's been counting. Of course.)
His heart had been beating so hard, so nervously, that he could barely form any kind of coherent, non-freaked out thought.
What was it? What had her so nervous? What was she trying to ask…?
Ask me out. She's trying to ask me out – his traitorous heart had been whispering very unwantedly wantedly for days now.
It would be what would get him to be as nervous as she currently was, at least.
He shook his head. There could be a million reasons for the ways she was acting. Maybe he'd…
At the seventh time of this nervous dance of hers, he was ready to scream. This was Usagi, always ready to yell at him at the top of her lungs at a moment's notice, and he'd apparently done something that left her rendered mute and unsure how to... How to what?
At this seventh time, he found her wide-eyed and seemingly frozen mute in front of his stool, and he stared unseeing at his textbook so he wouldn't have to look – the same textbook he'd had propped open for nearly an hour now, as he waited out her nervousness, and yet, he had no clue what the hell was on this page, and had never turned a single one today.
And she just stood there now.
He was surprised he'd had the guts to speak. And that his words sounded so calm. Since, well, he could barely hear them over the beating of his heart.
He was 22 for god's sake. This shouldn't be so difficult.
"... I don't bite, Usako," he told his textbook.
And his voice didn't even waver. Not even over the 'Usako'; the most precious, most rare, most daring of the nicknames he tended to use for her.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her blush, saw her lips pop open and press together. And what she said made his eyes whip up in shock and his heart give out because…
"What if I wanted a bite?" she breathed.
A beat, and then she shapeshifted into a tomato. It knocked him all right out.
She ducked. "N-nevermind..." she mumbled.
And then she ran. A blur of short baby blue jumpsuit he'd seen her wear for years and glorious golden hair. Before he managed to even get a semblance of control back over his face, the Crown's automatic doors had swallowed her, and she was gone.
He hadn't slept that night. He couldn't.
And so, the next day when his feet had carried him to the Fruit Parlor after classes like a love-sick fool because he simply couldn't keep away, he found her with steeled shoulders, red ears, and the most determined expression he'd ever seen on her in all the years.
"I want to ask you for a favor," she'd finally said.
A favor. She'd called that a favor. A favor?!
It had been his turn to run off.
Not far, mind you. Motoki was probably ready to smack him. But he was sleep-deprived and he was faced with the most tempting offer in all his life and he felt that in his teeth and it was just so despicably wrong.
He just… he wouldn't do it. There was no way it was appropriate or right to agree. None. At all.
"I'm not gonna do it," he babbled again.
"Of course, you're not," Motoki said, voice absolutely bored of his nonsense, counting the cash in his work wallet as he was cashing in for the day and jotting down numbers on a notepad on the stool beside him.
"Of course, I'm not," he said with a decisive nod. "It's completely inappropriate."
A slow, silent nod from beside him.
"And completely weird," Mamoru added, clutching his seventh coffee for the day.
"And besides, I'm the worst person she could ask," he went on.
"Obviously," Motoki agreed. "You can't flirt if your life depended on it."
At that, Mamoru turned to glower at his friend in irritation, but gave up fairly quickly with a defeated sigh, his hands moving back into his desperately mangled hair. "And I'm completely inexperienced whatever she seems to think otherwise of it. What am I even…"
"I'm not gonna do it."
Another nod from Motoki, numbers on a page.
"It's wrong. Completely atrocious. And I'd be taking advantage of her."
Motoki flinched somewhat indecisively. "Well, to be fair," he started carefully, not looking up from his notepad, "it seems more like SHE'D be taking advantage of YOU."
He threw Motoki a look and a scoff. "I'm in love with her."
Motoki pressed his mouth together and blew up his eyes for just a second in irritation. "Yes. I'm very aware."
"It's wrong. I'm not gonna do it. This isn't something anybody should be doing for anyone and I'm not gonna do it with her. FOR her. Whatever."
"I'm not gonna do it."
Motoki shrugged. "She'll just have to ask someone else to help her, then."
Mamoru's face whipped to Motoki's in pure, indulted horror.
It was well past 10 when Usagi's phone chimed, and she nearly dropped it, her heart was pounding so hard.
Because what the hell had she been thinking listening to Minako, there was no way he'd agree to such an outrageous—
Mamoru-Baka, 10:32 pm.
Her heart fucking stopped. What?!
Had he just… had he just agreed?!
Her fingers trembled, and before she was able to compose an answer, writing and deleting text over and over, he'd written again.
Mamoru-Baka, 10:34 pm.
But there need to be rules.
This time she texted back immediately, deleting what she'd previously written and instead replacing it with a simple,'of course!' that she immediately sent.
Mamoru-Baka, 10:34 pm.
I mean it.
Usagi, 10: 35 pm.
Of course! Whatever you want! Thank you! I'll be at your place in an hour!
Mamoru nearly fell off his bed at that.
WAIT, WHAT?! NOW?!
Oh for the love of fucking god what the hell had he—
Take this first chapter as more of a prologue for things to come ;) And please let me know what you think of this! Reviews are love, and they keep me motivated to write!
My heart full of thanks to my beta Uglygreenjacket, who sticks with me through every last nonsense! MWAH!