Title: Lesson 10: Heartthrob (The Perfect Drug)

Characters: Hiruma/Mamori

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21

Mamori stood in front of the closed hotel apartment door. As many times as she had been here, she was never filled with as much trepidation as she was in this one moment. Everything in her body screamed and yelled for her to turn around and run as fast as she could home, but there was one thing in the bottom of her heart anchoring her to that very spot. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe. All she could do was stare at the taped up envelope she carried in her half mitten clad hands. Her fingertips exposed, she felt the bindings of the tape, and rubbed them fiercely. Some deep concealed part of her was wishing that if she rubbed the tape hard and long enough that it would disappear or meld succinctly with the paper of the envelope, and everything would be good as new. That same part was the part of her that knew nothing was ever going to be the same as it was. There was no going back.

She swallowed slowly and raised her hand to knock on the door. Gently at first, and then more loudly as confidence slowly began to creep its way back into her veins. She waited for the door to swing open but there was nothing. She knocked again and still nothing, but she did manage to hear some distant shuffling which let her know that someone was in the small apartment beyond that door. She knocked a third time, with all her strength, ready to cry out and beat down the door if she had too.

"Alright already, what the fu…" the demon of Deimon appeared as he swung the door fully open, interrupting Mamori in mid-knock. He was in nothing but a low slung towel loosely wrapped around his bony hips. He pressed his hands flatly to either side of the door jamb as he stepped into the opening, while his blond tendrils dripped wet all down his face. Hiruma was fresh from the shower, and he smelled clean and as ominous as the electric green eyes that piercingly gazed at her under half hooded lazy lids.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in a low voice after they stood there for a long moment in complete shock and silence. H er mouth still open, body frozen in its knocking position, she slowly brought her fist down and raised her other hand that held the mended envelope.

"I taped it up…" her voice trailed off as she tried hard to smile at the menacing gaze before her. He made no move to acknowledge her or even her effort in mending the envelope. He just continued to stare her down as if he was staring right through her at a spot on the wall behind her.

"I said I…"

"I heard you," his eyes shifted ever so slightly and focused in on her. "You still didn't answer me. Why are you here?"

"I thought you might want to see that I…"

"I gave it to you. Why would I want to see it, fucking manager? It's for your information, not mine. I wrote the fucking thing so I already know what's in it," he grunted and shifted he weight as one arm came down to rest at his side. He still leaned into the door jamb, propping himself up lazily with the other arm and crossing his slender legs.

"I've read what's in it," Mamori said calmly as she tucked the envelope into her coat pocket.

"Have you now?" He let a low short half cackle escape his mouth as he said the words. But the look on his face was anything but amused.

His nearly feline reflexes were too fast for her, and in one swift harsh movement, she found herself pinned hard against a closed front door. He had pulled her into the apartment and seemingly slammed the door shut with her body. His face was millimeters from hers, and the moisture from his damp hair drip onto her cheek.

"I asked you," he breathed onto her face. "Why are you here?" He propped himself up against the door placing his hand above her as he leaned his body closer to hers. She closed her eyes, embarrassed to look into his because behind the irritation she saw an intense heat that excited her as much as it frightened her.

"I don't know," escaped meekly from her lips. She then swallowed hard as she felt her throat go dry, and opened her eyes once more to try and gaze into his face, but she was only able to raise them to the level of his lips that were pursed into a sardonic smirk.

"I think you know why," he growled. "I think it's pretty clear…" his hand snaked out and forced its way between her legs. With his fingers pushing past her panties and his index finger finding its way inside her, she gasped. "Damn, you're wet already," he whispered next to her ear as he withdrew his finger, but continued to stoke her over the fabric of her underwear. Feeling her body quivering beneath him, she held her breath, not wanting to give in and let out the moan that had already formed in her chest.

He chucked to himself as he looked her over and she could tell that he delighted in her struggle. His hands found their way to the zipper of her winter coat and he slowly unzipped it. Never letting his eyes leave her face, he simply shrugged the coat from her shoulders. As it fell to the floor, she looked away, embarrassed by the tingling sensation that was left where his fingers had once been. With a long bony finger placed under her chin he turned her head to face him again, and began to make quick work of her necktie, and her uniform jacket. But just as he came to undoing the last button on her jacket, she grabbed his hand and stopped him. She searched his eyes for a hint of tenderness and was surprised when she didn't find any.

He easily brushed her hand aside, and it was then that things turned sinister and dangerous. Almost instantaneously, he grabbed her by her shoulders and propelled her toward the couch where he bent her over the arm. Face down on the cushion with her stomach resting flat on the arm, and a firm hand on her back, she felt her skirt fly up from the momentum, or was his other hand? She couldn't tell because just as quick his fingers had looped around the crotch of her panties and yanked roughly as he ripped them from her body. He swiveled his hips against her bare backside and she could feel the thin towel that formed a barrier between his groin and her skin fall away. She gasped and formed her mouth to protest, but he shut her down before she could voice any with a quick firm thrust inside her.

Mamori cried out in shock and orgasmic pleasure as her legs went numb beneath her. She turned and buried her face into the cushions as be began to thrust harder, faster and deeper inside of her. With her legs held apart by his knees his hands gripped her buttocks firmly as each thrust felt like it built upon the last with the sheer forcefulness and depth of his penetration.

"God, you are so…fucking…wet!" He panted heavily as he continued his furious pace. Completely embarrassed by her excitement and involuntary exhibition of her wanton need, she continued to bury her face into the cushions, letting out muffled cries as her body shuddered and gave into him over and over again.

"Fuck, I can't cum this way," he groaned roughly, then brutishly flipped her on her back down further on the couch. He pounced on top her with her legs clumsily sprawled on either side of her. Mamori peered up at the leering silhouette of Hiruma as he hovered over her, between her, and she felt her face flush hot and red. With both hands he ripped her shirt open exposing her delicate lacy bra that held her breasts underneath. Buttons flying everywhere, and she could barely hear the ripping of the fabric over her own heavy breathing. She listlessly made a move to put her arms up and cover herself but he quickly pinned her arms down into the cushions of the couch with his knees, and pushed her legs up and further apart with his forearms. In one swift concerted movement, he ripped her breasts free from the bra, and thrust himself back inside her. She cried out again loudly and sharply, with no cushion to muffle her excited yelps.

His hands gripped and kneaded her breasts, giving him the leverage he needed to pull her body along further with each buck from his hips. He leaned down over her and took one hard rosy nipple into his sharp teeth, grazing it, and making her body arch deeply in its reaction. Soon he was suckling each of her breasts in turn, long and leisurely, while his speed and force continued to mount with each deep stroke. She felt like her body couldn't take anymore and that she was at the brink of losing consciousness. She had already been reduced to a constant flood of overwhelming ecstasy and there was nothing more for her to give over to him. Her body had already telegraphed its surrender the minute he opened the door.

"So, wet. So…fucking…wet!" He groaned against her as he licked her neck and stuck his tongue into her ear. Her body was reacting on its own, and she had no control over it. Every pore and every cell within her was aching just for him as he filled her with his need. He slowed considerably, building up to one large thunderous thrust that reverberated through both their bodies. She continued to feel the shockwaves as he spilled into her, and then collapsed on top of her. The sensation that she was suffocating came over her as all his weight came down on her weakened body, and then he completed his task by claiming her mouth earnestly. His long tongue felt as though it reached the back of her throat. As he liberally explored her mouth, she melted into the couch, into him. She was a puddle of spent energy and desire.

As quickly as it had all taken place, he rolled off of her and the coldness of the room touched the exposed parts of her body. His displaced towel came hurtling towards her but she had neither the energy nor the will to lift her arms to catch it and it came to a final rest half covering her face.

"You can use that to clean up, or you may want to hop into the shower because we are going out," She heard his distant voice call and surmised he had already traversed the small living room into the bedroom behind her.

Going out? She thought numbly. I can't even move! She tested this theory as she slowly pulled the towel down from her face and tried to sit up. The simple act of sitting up required her to swing her legs off the couch and onto the floor, but it took a long time for them to even respond to her urging, and when they did she felt a soreness between them as she ambled to push herself upright into a sitting position. It took a few more minutes before she was secure enough to tackle the feat of standing on her own. While waiting for her body to regain its strength she heard the muffled sounds of Hiruma dressing in the bedroom behind her. Why did he want to go out? At this point all she really felt like doing was crawling under the covers, and hoping he would find his way next to her.

She finally pushed herself off the couch and stood up. In a moment of balance adjustment, she awkwardly made her way into the bedroom before turning and collapsing again on to the bed. Her body was drunk, drugged, and stupefied with pleasure, and the over stimulated state made her little ashamed.

"Come on, hurry up. We don't have time to just lay here. I'm already gonna be late, fucking manager."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll find out soon enough. Now go. The hot water in the shower should shock your body back to life." She looked over at him as he spoke. She could hear the mirth dripping from his lips. The exhausted state of her body was a point of pride to him. She raised herself on her elbows on the bed, and cast a rueful glance his way before standing up again and crossing over to the bathroom.

She removed what remained of her clothing, shoes and socks, an entered the tub gently pushing the shower curtain back, pulling it shut, and then turning on the shower head. She didn't flinch under the sudden assault of the hot water that quickly streamed from the shower head above her. Instead, she solemnly let it flow over her head and down her body; the pellets sending heated rejuvenating energy through her skin to her inner core. Mamori was able to summon the strength finally to lather up and begin to vigorously rub down her skin. He had been everywhere over her body and they had done many things, but this was one time that she was actually regretful for responding so easily to him.

She didn't know how long she stayed underneath the hot spray, but the water began to lose heat, and instinctively she knew it had been too long. She reached over and turned off the water, then pushed the shower curtain back to get out. Hiruma was standing there waiting in the middle of the bathroom with one of his larger heavy towels spread open waiting for her. She stepped into it, and felt his arms circle around her as he wrapped her up into the towel.

"You'll get wet," she said softly as she closed her eyes and nestled against his chest.

"I don't care," he responded low and held her closer.

"But you're already dressed."

"I don't care."