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"These are for you," you say, holding out the pot of blue flowers for Dororo to see. His eyes widen and he smiles.
"Forget-me-nots!" he observes delightedly, but then his eyebrows crease in the middle. "Are they really for me? I can have them?" he asks uncertainly, a hopeful note in his voice as he eyes the flowers. You can tell he really wants them.
"Of course! They… um, well… they remind me of you because they're blue and you love flowers, and…" You had planned out what you were going to say, but you are finding the confession even harder to deliver than you had thought. He's watching you intently, a look of patient curiosity in his lovely eyes, and it's making it difficult to speak.
"Um, so, the name… Forget-me-nots," you go on, looking anywhere but his eyes, "makes me think of you too, because, um… I just wanted you to know that even though you feel that no one remembers about you, and you're always being left out and stuff, I… I would never forget you, okay?" You make yourself look at him now. "I really care about you a lot, Dororo. I-I like you, very much." There. Now it's out there.
"That's all," you add, blushing madly and looking away again. You must be insane, telling him you have feelings for him this way. You risk a glance at him.
He's staring back at you, wide-eyed. The exposed portion of his face is a little pink, betraying a violent blush beneath his mask. "You… you like me?" he asks in an awed tone.
"I- well… yeah," you admit. There's no getting around it now. "Um, romantically," you clarify, and immediately want to kill yourself.
"Romantically…" he echoes, sounding dazed. Feeling that you need to escape, you push the pot of flowers into his arms and say quickly, "Sorry, I shouldn't have done this. It was selfish. I'll see you later." You turn to leave.
"Wait!"
You turn back around. He's looking at the flowers like they're something much more precious than they actually are. Then he looks up at you again, and that's when you see it in his eyes. Longing.
He turns and places the pot on the floor a few feet away next to the dirt. Then he rises and comes closer to you. Your heart leaps in your throat as he stops just a few inches away from you. He hesitates, and then takes your hand in his own.
"Y/N-dono… I- I feel the same way," he admits, and your heart threatens to jump right out of your chest. "I had no idea… I never imagined you could have feelings for me…" he continues, clutching your hand tightly. "...I'm so happy!"
An uncontrollable giddy feeling rises in your chest. Not stopping to think, you fling your arms around him and embrace him. He hugs you equally tightly, laughing and burying his face in your shoulder. You can't believe it. You can't believe that this is actually happening. You had imagined this scenario and countless others so many times, but imagining is nothing like experiencing it for real. It feels so right to be flush against him like this with his arms around you. You feel at home.
You stay like that for many glorious, beautiful seconds before pulling away just enough to look at each other bashfully, your arms still wrapped around each other. As you stare at him, you see his eyes flick down to your lips a few times, and with a feeling like a jolt of electricity you realize what's about to happen a split second before it does.
He leans in and kisses you through his mask, soft and quick, and it takes your breath away. Giddily, you take his face in your hands and kiss him back. He laughs again and starts peppering your face with kisses. But as he carries on, what started out as a lighthearted and playful first kiss begins to feel heavy with desire. He begins to kiss you more hungrily, moving from your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck, and then he ducks his head to leave a trail of kisses along your collarbones. His left hand tangles itself in your hair and his right clings to the back of your shirt like a lifeline.
"Y/N-dono…" Dororo whispers against your neck, and goosebumps run down your arms even though you're not cold. You can feel heat radiating off him, and the smell of him is intoxicating, green and earthy like a forest. His scent mingles with that of the exotic plants in the room, filling your nose and mouth and making you feel drunk.
The pot of forget-me-nots sits on the floor where he left it, waiting to be lovingly transplanted into the tilled soil. You know he'll care for the flowers like they were his child, and that in just a short while they will be thriving down here in his subterranean Eden, a symbol of your feelings for him.
At this thought, warmth spreads through your chest and you feel like you could cry. Aching with love, you pull him closer to you, your arms wrapped around his narrow waist and up his back. You nestle your face into the crook of his left shoulder, kissing and sucking on his neck mercilessly. He gives a desperate little whine at that and presses even tighter against you. You feel the beginning of an erection against your thigh where his lower body meets yours, and suddenly things feel a lot more urgent than they did a second ago.
"Dororo?" you say, feeling breathless. He pulls back a little, and it's your first good look at him since he started kissing you. His expression, which was so dreamy and romantic only moments ago, is more intense than you've ever seen it, nearly animalistic. His eyes, which are the bluest and most beautiful you've ever seen on a person, are glassy with lust and his pupils are blown. He's panting slightly.
"Can I take this off?" you ask, lightly touching the thin fabric covering his face. He hesitates only a fraction of a second before taking your hands and guiding them to the back of his head, where his mask is tied. He closes his eyes serenely while you fumble with the knot for a moment, and then you remove the mask from his face.
You have never seen him without his mask until now, but he has a nice nose and pretty lips, as you suspected. He is so pretty, in fact, that you are momentarily transfixed, staring at him with your mouth slightly agape. You wonder why someone as attractive as the man in front of you, who could undoubtedly have any woman he wanted, Pekoponian or otherwise, would ever be interested in you. But you aren't complaining.
Your staring seems to perturb him slightly, because a tiny frown forms between his dark eyebrows and he asks, "What's wrong?"
It's very strange to see his mouth move when he speaks, you think, still staring, but then you recover from the momentary spell he had on you. By way of answer, you attack his mouth with your own. He breathes in sharply through his nose but then melts against you again. Blindly, you reach up and remove his hat so that you can run your hand through his hair. It's slightly damp with sweat, but you don't mind.
You drop his hat and mask on the floor and, feeling as if your body were moving on its own, steer him backwards toward the nearest wall. Still locked on your lips, he accepts your guidance readily. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, you press his back gently to the wall and continue your fervent kiss. His mouth is open against yours, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue inside it. He appears startled for a moment but then moans into your mouth and returns the favor, exploring you with his tongue. He tastes mellow and sweet, like a cup of tea with milk and honey in it.
You feel very safe and secure in his strong arms, enveloped in his warmth. Your breasts are crushed against his chest, he's holding onto you so hard. It's as though he's afraid that you'll drift away from him if he lets go, and it hurts you to think that this stems from his feelings of loneliness and abandonment that he struggles with so much. If he feels that he's unwanted and easily forgotten, then it's up to you to convince him of the opposite. You place your legs on the outside of his, pressing him into the space between them and trying to use your body to comfort him. Wanting him to feel sexy and desirable, you moan his name and hike up one of your legs, which he instinctively grabs onto beneath the knee and holds it aloft so that his crotch rests firmly against yours. But in this position, your own neediness comes flooding in, and you're unable to resist grinding against him a little, drawing a muffled noise of surprised pleasure from deep in his throat. You're acutely aware of his erection again, and you think quickly, taking mental inventory of the situation to determine whether there is anything to stop you from fucking him right here.
The door to the garden room is closed, and no one besides Dororo himself usually comes in here, but there is still a chance of being found by one of the other platoon members. The thought actually excites you a little; you can only imagine the titillating expression of utter shock on Giroro's face, in particular, if he walked in on you getting railed by his best friend. But the more reasonable part of your mind reminds you that that would be mortifying.
You don't know how Dororo feels about the imminent possibility of having sex with you in this room that is something of a sacred space to him, but so far he has made no move to take you somewhere else. Really, there is nowhere else nearby to go; if this is happening now, it's happening here.
You've already made up your mind. You knew the moment he started kissing you where this was going.
You break the kiss to stare into his pretty eyes that you love so much. He looks nearly inebriated now. He's breathing heavily, and his cheeks are flushed a brilliant shade of pink. A trail of saliva still connects his mouth to yours, and you wipe it away gently with your thumb. Adoring him, you smile and touch your forehead to his, closing your eyes; he's only very slightly taller than you, which is perfect, as far as you are concerned.
He releases your leg and wraps both arms around you again, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your back. "What do you want to do, Y/N-dono?" he asks in a husky voice, and his continued use of the honorific makes you smile wider. He speaks so formally, even now.
You take a steadying breath and say quietly, "I want to take my clothes off," before looking at him intently to gauge his reaction.
His eyes widen a little and his breath hitches, but after a second he responds smoothly, "I can help you with that". You raise your eyebrows slightly at his boldness, and he looks as though he even surprised himself.
"Okay," you say, kissing him quickly before stepping back a few inches to give you both some room. He reaches over to finger the hem of your shirt and then looks at you uncertainly, waiting for permission. You smile encouragingly and raise your arms so that he can remove your top. He lifts it carefully up over your head, trying not to disrupt your glasses too much, and it seems strange to suddenly feel so bare. You're glad that you decided to wear such a cute bra today, and apparently he is too. His blush deepens violently as he stares at your chest, mouth agape, and you fight the urge to cover yourself. You wonder for not the first time whether he is a virgin too.
Though he doesn't seem to notice yet, you've begun working on undressing him too. But his attire is an old-fashioned, Japanese style, and you're not familiar with where the ties and clasps are. He realizes what you are doing and helps you along, and soon his torso is exposed as well.
You pause to admire his body for a moment. He's lean, but muscular; you yourself are extremely soft and rounded by comparison. You particularly like his upper arms and his stomach, which is toned, with a line of dark hair leading down from his navel. Not able to help yourself, you sit on your knees and wrap your arms around his waist, kissing his stomach.
He whines again and wraps both his hands in your hair, not too tightly yet. If you sit up straight enough, his penis just meets your chest; the feeling is interesting, a thing simultaneously hard and supple poking you about the sternum while you kiss his abdomen. He must like this, because he bucks into you once or twice involuntarily, then seems to regain control and keep still.
You toy with the hem of his pants, pulling them down just enough to nibble at his hip bones. You know he likes this because he yelps and tugs your hair, hard.
"Sorry!" he gasps. You look up at him from your position on the floor, and his breath hitches at the sight of you. This time you're the one asking for permission. He meets your eyes and nods, looking thoroughly embarrassed.
You take this to mean you're allowed to remove his pants, so you tug them down delicately, not wanting to be rough with him. To your surprise, he's wearing normal boxers. He's still hard, and judging by the way he's shifting his weight, he feels very self-conscious. You look up at him again, and this time he can't look you in the eye. You begin to feel guilty for still being mostly clothed, but you promise yourself that you will only have this advantage for a little bit longer.
"Can I–?" you ask and he responds quickly with an "Mmhm," sounding anxious. So you pull this last garment off too.
You will remember this later as the moment that you felt the least confident and most unsure. You see his cock and immediately want to take it in your mouth, but you suddenly feel the weight of your inexperience holding you back.
You remove your glasses and set them aside where they aren't in danger of getting crushed, giving yourself some time to compose yourself. It takes a few seconds of hesitation and blushing to overcome your lack of confidence, but once you begin kissing your way along his length you relax a little. His hands tighten in your hair again, and you can feel that he's trembling now. You gingerly kiss the head of his penis and then experimentally open your mouth, letting him feel himself against your teeth and the tip of your tongue.
It feels like a shockwave travels up his body from the point where you're touching him, but he doesn't try to stop you, so you go further, inexpertly taking him into your mouth. You know you'll gag if you go too far, so you only take as much of him as you're comfortable, sucking on him and gently grazing his shaft with your teeth.
He moans and bucks into your mouth in spite of himself. This does nearly make you gag, but you hold him firmly about the hips and resolve not to let go. You try to time your motions with his thrusts, hoping that this feels good to him. You must be doing something right because he's moaning openly now, unable to control himself as he was before, and his legs are shaking terribly.
It's one of those times when you feel hyper-aware of the reality of your situation. The cold hard floor under your knees and the slight chill around your torso, his warm bare skin against your hands and arms, and, most prominently, his cock sliding in and out of your wet mouth, are things which shouldn't be real, should belong to a dream, and yet here you are. You think with satisfaction that you must look like such a slut right now. You'd like to get in front of a mirror after this is over to see the evidence of what he's done to you, the changed look in your eye.
Beginning to taste what you think is precum, you wonder what it's going to feel like when he cums in your mouth and whether you'll be able to swallow it. A more experienced woman definitely would, you think. You're just getting the sense that he's getting close when he unexpectedly places his hands on either side of your head and pulls you off of him. You look up at him, confused and a little hurt.
"Wait," he pants, "I w-want to… to… I can't w-wait anymore." And you understand. It must have taken an immense effort to stop you partway through like that, especially if he was close, but he's saying he wants to be inside you now.
You stand back up, your legs feeling a little stiff, and take his hands in your own. You guide them to your belt, and he swiftly undoes it and tugs down your pants. You step out of them and kick them to the side before he encircles you with his arms to get at your bra clasp. He makes short work of that too and removes the bra more carefully than the pants, like he's afraid of disrespecting it.
Now it's your turn to be shy. Your arms instinctively go up to cover yourself, and he has to coax them away again.
"Pretty…" he mumbles to himself, an expression of nearly childlike wonder on his face. He looks you up and down like you're something remarkably rare, and this embarrasses you more than anything. "You're so, so pretty…"
There's only one article of clothing left to remove between the two of you. You tug on the elastic band of your panties and stretch it out a couple times, hinting that you want him to do it for you. He obediently hooks his thumbs over the hem and crouches down, pulling them down with the motion. You step out of these too and realize with a start that you are both utterly nude now.
He stays crouched, closing in on you and kissing your hips just as you were doing to him a short while ago. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, your hands finding his hair again. You don't feel shy anymore; he's seen you naked and he still wants you, and what the two of you are about to do is the most natural thing in the world. It seems silly to have been nervous after all.
You let Dororo continue his ministrations for a while, reveling in the way he makes you feel, and then finally join him on the floor. The linoleum is brutally cold and hard on your ass when you sit and part your legs for him. He settles between them on his knees, and it's only then that you realize how wet you are.
"Do you want to be on top?" you ask, reaching up and caressing his face. He leans into your hand, blushing hard.
"...Yes," he replies after giving it some thought. You nod, and then another question rises in your mind, one you've been wondering about for a while.
"Dororo, is this your first time?"
He looks away shyly and your heart throbs at the sight of him. He is so cute.
"...Yes, it is," he answers with a nervous chuckle.
"That's okay," you say, and he looks back at you, "it's mine too."
"Really?" he asks, looking at you wonderingly, and you grin at him and nod. You guess you've been doing a better job at this than you thought. "I'm so glad it's not just me," he says, smiling and sounding relieved. He wraps his arms around you again and kisses you sweetly.
"Hold on," you say, breaking the kiss and reaching for your discarded pants. When you produce a condom from the pocket, he looks mildly surprised to see it.
"You had that in there all this time?" he asks, and then adds sheepishly, "I didn't even think to buy any…"
"It might not even be necessary…"
"No, I want to do this right," he says, so you tear open the wrapping and pull out the rubber sleeve inside. You sit forward and place it on his penis, rolling it all the way down. He shudders a little at the feeling. Before you go to lie back down, he motions for you to wait. He takes your pants and bundles them up into a makeshift pillow, which he places behind your head. Then he gently pushes you to the floor and lies on top of you.
The weight of him against you is really comfortable. Even though the floor beneath you is unforgiving, you feel that you could just lie here for a long time, falling asleep to the feeling of Dororo's heartbeat against your own.
He's not inside you yet, but his body is flush with yours, chest to chest, hip to hip. A shiver of anticipation runs up your spine as you stare at each other steadily. Supporting himself with his forearms on either side of you, he leans down and kisses you again. He lingers on your lips for a long time.
When he finally pulls away again, he asks, "Are you ready?"
"Yes," you whisper.
He sits up a little, carefully aligning himself with your entrance. You relax your muscles and he pushes inside of you at last.
It's not easy going, and it hurts a bit. You bite your lip and begin to feel sweat beading upon your forehead while he groans at the feeling of you around his cock. Judging from the sounds he's making, you're way tighter than he anticipated. He gives you time to adjust before slowly grinding in and out of you. It takes several pumps before the pain subsides, but your natural lubricant does its job, and he's able to set a slow, sensual pace.
You never imagined it would be this good, not by any fault of his, but because you know your body. You thought that penetration would do little for you, that your clit demanded too much attention, but he's hitting your G-spot with every thrust and making unbearably sexy sounds in the back of his throat. Even under everyday circumstances there's just something about his voice that goes straight to your cunt, but right now it's making you deliriously horny.
He senses you becoming more comfortable and brings more energy to his pace accordingly. At this, you begin to lose your grasp on coherent thought and all you can focus on is the dizzying pleasure radiating upward from between your legs. Your hips roll upward to meet his in perfect timing with his motions and you can feel him hitting your cervix every time he hilts.
"O-oh, god! Oh, my-y go-od!" he yells shrilly, and it would be a little funny if it weren't so fucking hot. You can't believe that you're the one doing this to him, that you're the only one who gets to see him like this. "Does- unnh- does it f-feel good?" he asks, and it takes a second for you to be able to respond.
"Yes!" you gasp. "You're doing good, you're d-doing so good." Your eyes are shut tight, blind to everything but pleasure, but you remind yourself that you want to see what he looks like right now. You open your eyes and bring the man above you into focus. Dororo's eyes are screwed shut too, his cheeks very flushed, his mouth open. He's the most beautiful creature you've ever seen.
"Dororo, look at me-" you manage before another wave of intense pleasure strikes you speechless. He opens his eyes, dazzlingly blue, and meets your gaze. You see your own ecstasy reflected in his face, wild-eyed, ravenous, breathtaking. You think you could die from the radiance of his gaze. It's like staring into the sun.
He's yours. Darling, gentle, altruistic, idealistic Dororo is yours. He's saying it with his eyes, committing himself to you. You'd think no one had ever loved you before, the ache in your heart is so intense at the thought that he could love you. But it's true that no one has ever looked at you like that before.
You vow to never let him feel alone again. His pain will become your pain, and you will bear it with him. He deserves to be happy. You want to convince him of this. You want him to feel loved the way you do.
You pull him towards you and kiss his mouth passionately, trying to communicate without words what you're thinking. He responds with enthusiasm, almost violent in the way he kisses you now. One hand finds your left breast and kneads it. Not ceasing his thrusting, he rolls your nipple under his thumb and you nearly cry out.
Then he ducks his head and places his mouth over the nipple, sucking on it and biting lightly. The hand that's not supporting him grips your thigh, and you wonder if it's going to leave a mark. You don't know what's gotten into him, but it's enough to send you over the edge. The well of pleasure that has been building up deep within your core is about to burst like a dam.
He pops off of your nipple, leaving it wet and cool in the open air, and switches to the other breast. The stimulation is too much. With a gasp and a cry you reach your climax. Your back arches off the floor with the force of it and your nails scratch his back where your hands clutch at him. His orgasm hits hard shortly after, and you watch him ride it out in a state of near-blackout from your own climax. He yells your name in a fit of euphoria and pounds into you relentlessly, overstimulating your already-spent pussy.
After about fifteen seconds his movements slow down to nothing and you both finally still. He's trembling above you as he comes down from his high, and by the time he collapses on top of you both of you are drenched in sweat, exhausted, and panting. You clutch him against you, one hand on the back of his head, and give him a doting kiss on his temple. You look at him lovingly and think to yourself that you would have liked to feel his semen inside of you, but you remember that there may be times in the future when you won't use a condom. There will be opportunities to try new things and pleasure each other in different ways.
But as you lie there in the aftermath of sex with the one person you haven't been able to get out of your head for the last year, your insecurities come creeping in. What if this is the end of it? Maybe he doesn't really feel the connection that you do. Maybe you misinterpreted what you thought you saw in his eyes.
He moves to remove himself from you, but you hook your legs around his waist, keeping him there. "Don't pull out yet," you plead, knowing that the loss of him will leave you feeling empty and cold. You're not ready to let him go. He obligingly settles back against you, giving a contented sigh as he nestles his head next to yours, and you relax again. You stroke his hair absently, still feeling troubled.
"That was… so wonderful…" he breathes, and his breath is hot against your skin.
"It was perfect," you agree, kissing his cheek. There's no need to upset him with your silly worries, you decide. And it was perfect, besides. You've never felt as good as he made you feel tonight.
A few moments pass in silence as you both catch your breath and settle down, your heart rates returning to normal. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he says, "I love you."
Your hand on his hair stills. Did you hear correctly?
"I love you, Y/N."
Tears prick the corners of your eyes and your throat constricts. "I love you too," you say softly, your voice quivering.
You feel him smile against your neck, and then he sighs again and you get the impression that he's drifting off to sleep. So you lie there, listening to Dororo's breathing, the hum of the fluorescent lights high above and of the air conditioner that keeps the underground base cool, and your own heartbeat. Secure in his feelings for you, you doze off, feeling more peaceful than you have in a long time.