Closer

A series of Fruits Basket vignettes by Sakura

Standard disclaimers apply.

The following are [1] occasionally Yuki-centric, occasionally Tohru-centric, but hopefully more Yukiru-centric than anything else (?); [2] written without canon in mind; [3] maybe not for the glucose intolerant.  More notes later.

NOTE:  This came out of nowhere; think of it as an extra act. 

 For Belle-nee, whose package made me sparkle. XD

 A bit lemon-scented.

02.5  Summer

Yuki kept his eyes closed even as he felt the sheets slowly shift underneath him, smoothly sliding against his skin like water. At first he wondered if he was having another one of his crazy dreams, but eventually realized it was just Tohru, who had gotten up and was now trying to get the bed into some semblance of order without rousing him from his nap. Through the haze in his mind, he heard her mumble as she worked: oh no it's two in the afternoon maybe I ought to call the nearby soba-ya for lunch I wonder what Yuki-kun would like...

There came the soft patter of feet, the rustle of fabric, then the creaking of windows being opened. The afternoon breeze stole into the room, past the drawn back curtains. It felt cool on his flushed skin. Yuki shifted to lie on his side, burying his face in the pillow.

It smelled like her.

There came the footsteps again, pausing every now and then as Tohru tsked and sighed. She was probably picking up the articles of clothing they had so impatiently struggled out of, carelessly tossed onto the floor --- trousers, socks, underwear, polo shirt, cotton dress... That pretty yellow cotton dress that made her skin glow. To him it seemed like it had a thousand buttons and it frustrated him every time he had to take it off her, but then she would take his hand and guide his fingers in unfastening each button, all the while watching him with darkened eyes.

It was enough to undo him.

The pillow shifted gently underneath his head. "Yuki-kun? Yuki-kun, wake up."

"Mmmmm."

"We have to eat lunch."

"Mmmmm."

The cushion squeaked and shifted as she got back into bed with him. "Yuki-kun."

"Five minutes," came his muffled reply.

"One minute."

"Three."

"One." Her tone was stern.

He turned around to lie on his back and found her leaning over him, brown hair drifting past her bare shoulders like a waterfall. "One minute," she said again, firmly.

Gazing up at her, he smiled.

And it worked. Dropping the angry act and letting her expression soften, she bent down to brush lips against his forehead, and she looked so lovely, so charming, that he just had to draw her to him and kiss her properly. Her mouth was warm and sweet, and her hair felt like silk against his skin.

He will never get enough of her.

Never.

"Lunch?" She half-whispered, half-sighed as he lingered on the sensitive spot on her throat. "Lunch, Yuki-kun?"

"Lunch," he murmured against her skin, "and dinner, and breakfast the day after."

She flushed deeply at his words, but when he pulled her down with him, she let herself be led, and very willingly so.

[ 02.5 - O.Wa.Ri. ]