Schizo: Okay, so in a review (or two?) Doreiku wanted me to write a TakeshixSatoshi sultry oneshot. Now, um, this isn't exactly so sexy because I still wanted it to be T and I wasn't in the mood to be writing sex, so yeah... However, this fic does have... limes? I think they're limes anyway. I'm not too sure what a "lime" is, but I would imagine this fic (aka looooong drabble) has them.

So I suppose this thing is dedicated to Doreiku since I did... uh... make it for her/him.

There is one word that is a strong profanity, but you can all handle it and/or pretend it doesn't exist.

I'm not sure why I'm suddenly being attacked with TakeshixSatoshi ideas in my brain, but I don't really hear anyone complaining about it, so I'll just continue taking in the abuse. At least I'm growing this fandom. I think there's about... seven stories out there (most by me...) with the love, so... one day, I'll get to a full page's worth.

Oh. And uh, there's mention (huge mention) of SatoshixRisa, but don't be fooled. I don't even understand that pairing (no offense... I know people don't even understand this pairing...)

I do not own D N Angel.

Takeshi

I’m not exactly sure how this all started, not exactly aware of when I got myself into this situation that I couldn’t—and to be honest, wouldn’t—get out of. In the beginning, I remember, there were butterfly feelings of danger and ecstasy fused into one emotion of sadism against others’ feelings. There wasn’t one bit of care, not one ounce, which merged with our conscious—and guilt? Guilt was a figment of our imagination.

He took my lips, ghosting his kisses on them as he held me close.

It always took place in one location, and one location only: On top of his desk at the police station no earlier than ten fifteen, forty-two seconds past—PM. The cameras in his office would focus on his door rather than his desk at that time, so clearly it was a practice we needed to master.

My shirt was slipped off, baring my flesh before his eyes.

Sometimes we were cute, there for the kisses, there for the sweet nothings we wished to hear from each other. Then there were times where our sole concern was how wide my legs could spread, how loud we could be, and how hard he could thrust.

It’s only lust if you don’t say “I love you” in the end.

“How is she?”

He was inside me, embracing me with his arms as my head leaned back, hanging just next to the edge of the desk. Drenched in forbidden desires, our bodies pressed closely to each other, orgasmic sensations pulsating throughout.

“She’s fine,” he answered. “Still naïve.”

“When are you going to tell her?” I whispered, taking his chin and guiding him towards my lips, which kissed his softly.

“When the time is right.”

Oh, he wasn’t mine—technically. I was the shadow behind the curtains while he dated Risa Harada, a girl who couldn’t pinpoint a lie even if she tried. Sweet girl, just not worth it. She did not have the history he looked for, did not have the obstacles he had to fight over. There was no hard way of obtaining her, there were no chances of being sent to jail for kissing her, for… fucking her.

Shoving me into the wall, he held me up with his hands firmly cupping my behind. With my arms wrapped around his head in the way that a lover’s would and with his kiss taking me under his charm the way a romantic’s would, we smiled at our situation. We were cheating the whole world with our secrets. We were fooling everyone into thinking we were mere classmates with bitter emotions to each other.

In the beginning, it was all a game. In the end, it was a painful journey.

He kissed my shoulder, spreading me out on his computer desk once again. My eyes winced as I pushed him away this time, whispering, “What if she…”

“She won’t.”

“What if you…”

“I won’t.”

“Then why am I here?”

He stood before me, gazing down into my eyes, murmuring lovingly to me, “Because, unfortunately, people would rather see me with her than you.”

“Do you love her?”

“Never.”

Capturing my lips, he continued, “I betray the ones I use, I hide the ones I love.”

So it comes down to the fact that I was a mister, a mistress so to say. As I watched her love him, I restrained myself from ever clawing at her face to yell the truth into her ears. I restrained myself from ever showing a glimpse of affection towards him in public, but instead that cocky attitude everyone came to know and love.

He took me. He took my heart.

I was the dirty little secret who saw everything. Except, this time… I wouldn’t report it.

“I don’t want to hide forever.”

He wiped the tears from my eyes.

“I know.”

Imagine… What started off as a sexual frustration turned into deeply planted longings. Our sinful uses of our connections with the police became our haven from the rest of the world. He seduced me into falling for his witty charm, the words he murmured into my ears when no one was around. We kissed behind doors, feeling the adrenaline of forbidden love.

Sometimes the police even break the law.

“Did you tell her?”

He gently tilted my head towards the door, where Risa opened and gasped when she saw us.

“Yes.”

And sometimes they get away with it.

Schizo: You know... This little "plot" in here could possibly make a good story... Anyone interested or no? Anyways, clearly this could have turned into a PWP if I had the inspiration. Heh... Oh well.

Please review.

Cheers -Steph