Smell | PG | Kou/Futaba

Wherein Kou ponders Futaba's fixation on his neck and lets his imagination run away with him. Yup.

Warnings: Half-assed drabble. No grammar's land.

Kou would choose to die of shame first before he admits what it does to him.

He remembers them all.

He looks forward to next time.

He deliberately wears loose collars.

Because when the opportunity presents itself (sometimes he helps it to—most catch him off-guard), and he feels her warmth from behind, his eyes slide shut out of their own accord and he can almost see her leaning in for the kill from behind his eyelids, as she never fails to do. He knows to an impressive exactitude the face she makes when she's running with everything she's got. He has no idea what face she makes when she's pressing her nose to his hair.

It's like an impulse she can't control.

But he can.

All he has to do is dip his head.

And she gets so close.

Thinking she's so sneaky.

Breathing in, filling her lungs with him.

Idiot.

Exhaling over the nape of his neck.

He allows her her delusion.

Sometimes, right after, he wonders what would happen if he didn't turn to face her right away, as he never fails to do. What would she do next, he wonders. Would she try again? Would she fill her lungs to capacity?

Or would she exercise her other senses?

Sometimes there are fingertips that accompany her nose. He feels them shyly touch.

Safe to say she's got smell down.

What of taste?

Maybe if he didn't turn around she'd use her lips next.

Barely brushing the line of hair on the back of his neck. His skin would instantly prickle with goose bumps.

(Maybe, if she weren't so concerned over being discovered,)

she'd use her teeth.

Boldly grazing over the jut of his spine.

(Not a chance. She'd be convinced there'd be no going back.)

But when his scent stops being enough,

she'll try to capture it with her tongue in one startlingly hot stripe.

He doesn't get much farther than this point in his thoughts.

It doesn't matter.

Because he turns. Eventually.

(He can only stretch the seconds so far.)

He meets her eyes and for a split second they're so unreadable he tries his best to decipher the emotion lying behind them before she flushes and pulls away, averting her gaze, as she never fails to do. He's never yet finished in time.

She wants something. He hasn't worked out what that is yet, but for the moment it has something to do with his scent. Kou was sure that, were it possible, he would have surrendered it a long time ago.