Asahina. Before we go have dinner, why don't you join me in my room for a while? Don't change out of your idol outfit. In fact, there's an extra piece I'd like you to put on. It's in your bag.
That's what Takato-san had said, pulling me aside as soon as Kuya-san was out of earshot. Then he'd rushed to catch up with Kuya-san, leaving me blushing as I wondered just what he had tucked into my school bag. Since it was Takato-san, it could have been anything. When I got back to my room and opened the bag, my heart skipped a beat.
"T-T-Takato-san! You want me to wear this?"
But to be honest, just the thought of it made my heart pound, not with nervousness, but anticipation.
I changed quickly and headed to Takato-san's room, praying that I wouldn't run into any of my close friends on the way. My arms were stiff against my sides, fingers gripping the hem of the short plaid skirt in a vain attempt to keep it from rustling too much. It's not like it had gotten any shorter, but somehow everything felt a little more dangerous. No, a lot more dangerous. At least I didn't have to wobble around in heels inside the dorm. There's no way I would have dared to brave the stairs in those while clinging desperately to my skirt.
W- Wait. Stairs? I looked up the stairwell in despair. Skirts and stairs didn't mix. Even I knew that, having heard enough complaints from the girls in middle school. And those girls probably weren't wearing--
"Hey, Ace! Wow, student council must be rough, you're still wearing that?" It was Yonezawa-san from the light music appreciation group, coming down the stairs and twirling one of his drumsticks between his fingers.
"Haha... y- yeah," I forced a laugh. "Um, you're off to practice now? Do your best!"
"Right," he murmured, looking like he wanted to say something else, but then he shook his head and dashed off. Was it just my imagination, or was his face a little red?
Well, whatever. More importantly, the stairwell was deserted, and I took the opportunity to rush up the steps to the third floor of the dorm. Takato-san's room wasn't far from the stairs, and I hurried there before I was spotted by anyone else.
Knock knock. "Takato-san, it's Asahina."
I pushed open the door and stepped inside, heart racing. The overhead lights were off and the curtains were drawn, with only the desk lamp providing any direct light. The warm orange light of the setting sun leaked in around and under the curtains, adding to the soft glow. Just that was enough to make my stomach tighten. A darkened room could mean only one thing.
As expected, Takato-san embraced me as soon as the door was safely shut and locked behind me. Instead of kissing my mouth, his lips went to my ear. The warmth of his breath made me shiver, and I braced myself for the wetness of his tongue or a nip on the earlobe, but instead, a hot whisper filled my ear.
"Imagine the story of a young idol singer, a first year student named Asahina Yukiko. She's incredibly talented and rockets to fame within mere weeks of her debut. Before long, the fans are demanding more, they want to see Yuki-chan show off her slim, boyish body, so she begins modeling. But that's not enough, they want to see her in revealing swimsuits. Her manager refuses. After all, Yuki-chan is completely flat-chested."
"T-Takato-san... you've put a lot of thought into this..."
"Shh, Asahina, you'll disturb the flow of the story." His fingers tickled through my hair, and I sighed with the soft pleasure of it. "Anyway, the pressure is too much for Yuki-chan, and she decides to quit the idol world after a mere six months. Her fans don't know it, but her biggest live concert will also be her last. And there's one fan who's been desperate to see her, who has felt a deep connection to Yuki-chan ever since the first time they saw one of her commercials. Oh, it's not an uncommon story, but this fan's reason for adoring Yuki-chan is unique."
Takato-san's hands slid down my back, fingers tracing my spine, hands pausing to squeeze my hips before continuing down. "That fan somehow understands that Yuki-chan is just like them."
"Just like them?" My heart was pounding. I was sure Takato-san could feel it against his own chest.
"Yes. That fan goes to the concert wearing a school uniform, not caring that it's unfashionable with its long skirt and modest blouse. And afterward, in the panic that Yuki-chan's announcement sparks, that fan somehow manages to get into her dressing room. That's where they confront Yuki-chan. You're just like me, Yuki-chan. I knew it from the start. Is that why you're quitting? Because no one understands you? And the fan steps closer, intending to embrace Yuki-chan, and somehow she can't move away because it's true. It's all true. And they embrace, like this."
Takato-san squeezed me tight, tilting his hips forward. He was already hot. I could feel that clearly through the thin layers of the cheap costumes, and I made a little sound.
"Yes, just like that," Takato-san whispered, "they embrace, and just like that, Yuki-chan understands. The girl holding her is actually a boy. And so is Yuki-chan herself."
"Takato-san..." My face was red, but it wasn't just embarrassment.
"They kiss." His lips abandoned my ear and went to my mouth. My lips were already parted in invitation, and I sucked at his tongue as he slipped it inside. Takato-san's hand slipped lower, rubbing my butt through the silky fabric of the skirt. The soft, smooth cloth felt surprisingly good against my skin, and I moaned quietly, standing up on my toes so he could reach more easily. With that encouragement, both of Takato-san's hands drifted down to my butt, giving it a few firm squeezes in time to the movements of his tongue against mine. I panted into his mouth, eyes squeezing shut even tighter as my chest ached with want.
"Mmm, Asahina, you have such a nice, perky ass..."
"D- Don't say that..."
But secretly, I loved his direct, honest declarations, even if they were a bit much.
Finally, one of his hands grasped the hem of the skirt, pushing it up to my waist, exposing me. Takato-san's other hand caressed the smooth skin of my backside that was taut with the effort of staying on tiptoe. It was strange, my butt feeling cold and exposed while my legs were warm, almost completely covered by the thigh-high stockings.
His mouth left mine just long enough to murmur, "So, you really did wear it..."
I wanted to say but it's so embarrassing, but my lips were captured again. My face was hot, cheeks tingling as he gripped me firmly, using that grip to press our hips closer. Takato-san wasn't just hot against me, he was also hard, and his breath was already getting a bit shaky. My calves were starting to hurt, feet trembling with the effort of staying on my toes for so long, and as if he sensed my discomfort, Takato-san released me. His cheeks were stained red, eyes slightly narrowed and lips parted as he looked down at me. I knew that lustful stare, and what it meant.
I shivered, wanting it.
"Asahina," he murmured, low voice choked with lust, "come sit with me."
Takato-san pulled on my hand, leading me toward his bed. At that moment, I would have followed him anywhere, so caught up in him. His hair, normally so neat and sculpted, was messy from how I'd pulled and rubbed at him. Even his glasses were tilted to one side, knocked loose by my hands. I loved seeing Takato-san like that, mussed and imperfect, a bit out of control.
He sat at the edge of the bed and opened his arms. I straddled his lap without hesitation, spreading my legs wide so I could slide as close as possible. For a few minutes, we just held each other close, exploring each other with slow, deep kisses as I wiggled on top of him, pressing our clothed erections together.
But it wasn't long before one of Takato-san's hands slipped into the space between us, shoving aside the rustling fabric of our skirts. His warm hand slid over the satiny fabric of my underwear, a skimpy white thong that barely covered anything. I was already spilling out of one side; the thong was meant to lie flat against a girl's body, so there was no way it could even hope to contain a man's. Takato-san's hand pushed the stretchy fabric aside, and he gripped me firmly, thumb rubbing over the tip. I gasped, spine stiffening.
"You're already wet, Asahina."
"W- well..." My cheeks were so hot, I could feel the heat radiating from my face.
Takato-san laughed, a quiet chuckle that came from deep in his throat. "Don't be embarrassed, Asahina, it's the same for me." His hand abandoned me for a moment, pushing up his own skirt so I could see. My eyes widened at the sight of his hardness, also wrapped up in and barely contained by lace-trimmed satin. There was a large, obvious damp spot on the fabric.
I closed my eyes with a shiver. If I kept looking, I would get so excited I wouldn't be able to stand it. My heart was already thudding almost painfully in my chest, and I couldn't quite catch my breath. So when I heard more rustling, I knew that Takato-san was uncovering himself, but I didn't expect the shock of his hand on my length, and the heat of something stiff against me.
Oh god, is he really...?
My eyes flew open on their own, and I stared down between us. Takato-san's large hand was wrapped around us both, his long fingers just as hot as the dual erections they enclosed. Just the sight of that, surrounded by the billowy fabric of our skirts, was enough to make me twitch. Somehow that contradiction of sights, obviously male with obviously female, made my heart race.
"Is this fun, Asahina? Are you enjoying our cosplay?"
I couldn't answer, not with the way his hand was rubbing up and down like that, pressing us together. I tried to say something, but all I could manage was a groan. I opened my legs wider, ignoring the achy protest of my thighs, and pushed myself closer.
"I guess that's a yes," Takato-san's voice was strained. "Asahina..."
He leaned in, intending to kiss me again, but I stopped him with one hand on his chest. With the other, I reached up and awkwardly pulled off his glasses. "I- It's easier... to kiss you..."
"Right," he breathed, taking the glasses with his free hand, pausing for just a moment to lean over and set them on the nightstand. I blushed as I remembered one of our very first times together. Takato-san's glasses had been left on the bed, and I'd rolled over onto them without thinking, too caught up in passion to realize I'd crushed the delicate rimless frames. Ever since then, we'd been a little more careful, though there had been a few close calls.
I had a feeling that this time would be memorable for a much better reason.
"Mmm, Takato-san," I sighed into his mouth, my tongue mimicking the motion of his hand, thrusting and rubbing. My hips were already moving in time with his hand, not much, since my organ was trapped by his firm grip, but just enough to squeeze out a bit of extra pleasure from each movement. We were both leaking, the clear, sticky fluid becoming tacky in the dry indoor air, and a soft, wet sound came from between us.
"Asahina," Takato-san twitched against me, "here, you take over."
He released us, and I sighed with something like relief. Takato-san grasped my hand with sticky fingers, gently guiding it to our erections and pressing my fingers around them. They didn't fit in my hand as well as they did in Takato-san's, but we'd played this game enough times that I was used to gripping us both at once. My eyelids fluttered as I rubbed. Somehow it was even more intense when I was doing it myself, maybe because I couldn't deny my involvement. This was something I did, something I wanted, not just something that happened to my body.
I shivered again.
Takato-san's hands went to the hem of my loose shirt, sliding up and under. His sticky hand caught on my skin as it moved, while the other glided over my body without difficulty. Strong fingertips brushed over my nipples, and he smiled, realizing they were already hard.
My breath caught in my throat, and my hand froze. "T-Takato-san..."
He met my eyes, expression almost pleading. "May I?"
I bit my lip. It was true that when Takato-san did what he wanted with my nipples, it felt really good at the time, but I was always sore for about a day afterward. Every time, I told myself I wouldn't let him get so carried away again, and every time, I gave in anyway.
"Um... not too hard, okay?"
"I'll be careful," he promised, and I knew he meant it, even though I was sure he'd end up getting a bit out of control again. He pinched them lightly, and somehow it was like a shock running straight from my chest down to my groin. I gasped.
"Don't stop," Takato-san murmured, moving his hips a little.
I made a small sound of assent and continued stroking us together, but it was hard to concentrate with his fingers on my chest. Every time Takato-san pinched, my hand stopped, and my eyes squeezed shut. Did it hurt, or did it feel good? It was both at the same time, incredibly arousing though I knew I'd end up regretting it the next day, when I'd have to wear my uniform again. One particularly rough tweak made me gasp and pull away, and Takato-san pulled his hands back, wrapping his arms around me instead.
"I'm sorry, Asahina, I just can't seem to help myself..."
"It's okay," I panted, "I don't really mind. It'll hurt tomorrow, though..."
"I'm sorry," he repeated, one hand rubbing my back, the other stroking my hair. "I promised I wouldn't be so rough anymore..."
"It's okay," I sighed, reaching up to embrace him. I could feel the heat of his skin through the light fabric of his costume top, and if I held my breath, I imagined that I could hear his heartbeat. Or maybe I was feeling it more directly, our lengths still pressed together even without my hand there to hold them captive. I was getting really aroused. And Takato-san was too, voice trembling subtly along with his hands as he petted my hair and whispered breathy endearments.
I shifted in his lap, thighs aching from holding the awkward position for too long. "Takato-san... I don't want to finish with just this..."
He nodded against my shoulder. "Me either." His voice was heavy with longing. "Asahina, take off your underwear and lie back on the bed."
"Yeah," I agreed, climbing off his lap with shaky legs. I stripped off the tiny thong and let it fall to the floor, but Takato-san stopped me when I grasped the lacy top of one stocking.
"Just the underwear. Leave the rest."
I swallowed hard, cheeks darkening. "O-Okay..."
I got back onto the bed and stretched out, grateful to give my legs a few moments of rest. I rested my head on his pillow, letting my eyes slip shut while I breathed in the scent of his shampoo, fresh with a hint of citrus. While I made myself comfortable, Takato-san stood and discarded his underpants as well, and untied the pale blue scarf that was peeking out from under his sailor collar. I opened my mouth to ask why he was getting undressed, but shut it with a blush as I saw him turn and tuck a familiar bottle under the pillow.
And then he was on me, or rather, hovering over me, strong frame shadowing me as he leaned close to kiss me. I reached up to embrace him, wanting him closer, but he pulled back and shook his head, a naughty smile on his lips.
"Put your hands over your head, Asahina. Wrists together."
That's when I noticed the long strip of fabric in his hand. The blue scarf. My heart skipped a beat, and I complied without hesitation. Takato-san made a little sound of amusement.
"You're amazing, Asahina," he breathed, bending down to wind the scarf around my wrists. I couldn't see, but I knew he finished it with an elegant bow; I'd seen his work enough times to know that the care he took with it was a silent expression of his love for me. Let me make you even more beautiful, Asahina, he'd say, even as he bound me tight.
Tight. I flexed my wrists, testing my bonds.
"Is it too tight?" His hand was halfway to the bow as I shook my head.
"No, it's perfect. I'm just..." I closed my eyes, testing it again. "It feels good..."
Just calling it good didn't express even a fraction of my feelings, but I couldn't think of anything more complex right then, not in words. Good, and safe, and close, and belonging, trusting, those were the impressions I had, but my tongue wouldn't cooperate.
"I want you," was all I could manage, in a barely audible sigh.
"Yes," he agreed simply, "but open your eyes, Asahina. I want you to look at me."
"Takato-san," I whispered, eyes fluttering open. "Please, hurry."
He didn't have to ask me to open my legs, or pick my knees up, letting my short skirt gather around my hips. I didn't need those reminders. The sight of the bottle of lube and the quiet, obscene sound it made when he squeezed some out onto his fingers was more than enough. I watched him lift up his own skirt and smooth it onto himself first, gritting his teeth, but I didn't bother holding back a groan of anticipation. Takato-san's eyes met mine, and the shock of that connection was enough to make me moan again, legs trembling.
His slickened fingers slid into me, finding almost no resistance. I couldn't stop myself from closing my eyes as his fingers pushed deeper, testing me, thrusting a few times in a pale imitation of how his heat would move inside me.
"You're incredibly loose already." He sounded surprised.
"Hurry," I half-groaned, half-whined, squeezing his fingers. "I can't wait any longer."
"Nor I," he replied, pulling his fingers free. A moment later, he was on top of me, strong arms supporting my shaky legs as he entered me with one powerful thrust. I didn't bother trying to hold back a shuddering groan, or to hold my body still. I arched up off the mattress just a little, trying to get closer. Why had we left our costumes on? I wanted to feel his skin against mine, the dampness of a fine sweat and the thud of his heartbeat. Instead, there was the crinkle of cheap cloth as it slid over my skin, feeling almost rough against my nipples, already tender from being pinched so roughly. That was also arousing in its own way.
"Asahina," Takato-san panted at my ear.
Even that small stimulation was enough to make me gasp. "Hmm?"
He didn't say anything else. Maybe he didn't have anything to say, or maybe he couldn't say anything. I could already feel him twitching inside me, and his arms trembled.
I wanted to be closer. But with my wrists bound together, I couldn't grasp his broad shoulders or use his body as leverage. All I could do was grip him, inside, as if trying in vain to halt his energetic movements, in and out, over and over. Maybe it was impossible. I wouldn't last much longer anyway.
But I wanted to hold him, just like he was desperately holding me, so tight that it was hard to breathe. Or maybe that was the tightness in my chest mirroring the tension in the pit of my stomach, the slow build of pleasure that promised to be released soon. The plaid skirt fluttered around my hips with each motion, doing absolutely nothing to hide my nakedness. I wrapped my legs around Takato-san's back, pressing hard, probably too hard, but he never minded if I accidentally bruised him in a moment of passion.
"Asahina," he growled, arms growing even tighter.
Arms. That was right, my arms weren't useless, even if they were joined. We could be closer.
I moved my arms together, slipping them up and over Takato-san's head to settle my wrists at the back of his neck. I wondered what the blue bow looked like next to his hair like that, so similar to the one he already wore. And I hoped I wasn't hurting him as I used that bit of leverage to pull myself closer, arching up from the bed toward his heat.
"T-Takato-san... ah... harder..."
My response was smothered by his lips and tongue as they stole my breath. I couldn't quite breathe, but I didn't care. All I wanted was to be close, and to feel good, to feel him inside, thrusting and twitching as I squeezed and flexed around him. I felt almost lightheaded, overwhelmed by all of it, the familiar heat and pressure plus the security of being gently restricted, coupled with the rustle of strange, silky fabrics.
I couldn't stop myself from coming first, going rigid in his arms and falling back against the pillow as my vision went white for several moments. Takato-san was still supporting me with his steady arms, still thrusting deeper as my body rippled around him, almost as if tempting him to give in. He didn't last much longer, plunging in with one final thrust and holding there for what seemed like forever, though I'm sure it was only a few seconds. I felt him twitch and jerk inside me, filling me with heat as he moaned my name.
A minute later, and it was over. I was sprawled on the bed, panting, skirt pushed up around my waist and leaving me fully exposed. Takato-san was beside me, chest heaving and hands trembling as he untied the bow at my wrists and unwound the long scarf.
As soon as my arms were free, I rolled onto my side and hugged him tight, vision blurred with tears. "Takato-san, I..."
He petted my hair, fingertips warm against my scalp. "You don't have to cry every time, Asahina." But his tone was fond, and he kissed my forehead.
"But... I can't help it," I sniffled. "Because, you always make me feel so good... and I feel like I'm so close to your heart at times like this."
"You're too cute, Asahina." His hand stroked down my arm, pausing to grasp my wrist loosely. "Was it okay? I didn't make it too tight, did I?"
"I told you, it was perfect. I... I like it... letting you take care of me like this." My face was already hot, but I felt it growing even warmer. "I never imagined I would like it."
"I'm glad you do, because I love it. But not as much as I love you, Asahina Yukiko."
"H-Hey... I'm not..."
He laughed, rubbing my back. "I know that. Believe me, I know very well that you are absolutely not a girl. But that was a very enjoyable diversion. We'll have to borrow these outfits for a while. There's much more to Yuki-chan's story." There was a wicked glint in Takato-san's eye. "And I never imagined that skirts were so convenient. You don't even have to get undressed."
"Ehehe, don't say such embarrassing things..."
Takato-san pulled away, just a bit, and looked down at me. "It seems that Yuki-chan's skirt has been soiled. What a naughty boy..."
I blushed. "W-Well, your blanket's a bit of a mess now too..." There was definitely a damp spot beneath me. Or maybe that was my skirt as well.
"Mmm, well, we can clean that up later. Right now, we should get dressed and go to dinner before anyone gets suspicious. It's unusual for you to show up to dinner any later than this, isn't it?"
"Yeah," I sighed, reluctant to get up.
"Oh, but something occurs to me."
"You don't have any clothes to change into. You wore the costume here. And you can't go walking around in the dorm with that obvious stain on your skirt."
My face turned red. "W-W-What am I doing to do?"
Takato-san laughed and pressed a kiss to my pouting lips. "You can borrow my bathrobe. It's a little big for you, but that'll be an advantage in this case."
"Whew," I sighed, "that should work. But..."
I inched closer to Takato-san, hugging him close again. "I don't want to leave just yet. I want to stay here with you a little longer. I feel so safe and warm right now, I don't want this to end. So... please, hold me, Takato-san."
"Of course, Asahina. I'll hold you for as long as you like."
As we lay there, snuggled close in our rumpled and stained cosplay outfits, I tried not to think about how we'd be separated soon. He'd have to go to India after graduating, to assist his mother with her grand project. But I'd promised myself that I wasn't going to cry. Takato-san was going to do something important, something amazing that would help and maybe even save so many people. I wouldn't be selfish. I would let him go with a smile.
But right now, I would hold him close and love him deeply. I would fill his heart with enough love to sustain him while he was away.
It was all I could do, so it had to be enough.
"I love you, Takato-san."
~ end ~