This is something I felt like doing the second you realize that Yoji slept with Neu, the scene right before he's attacked at the lodge. I couldn't really understand why Yoji would allow himself the agony of having "Kyoko" when he only thinks of her as Asuka, and the fact that he really doesn't know her at all.

Plus, the whole time I was like, "What the Hell? It's totally Neu! How can you NOT see it?" And so this little piece showed up. Now I feel somewhat more tolerated at Yoji's actions. I still don't like it, but whatever.


Blissful Insanity!

I stare at her long enough to decide she could be both. This "Kyoko" and my Asuka, they could be the same, just for this moment. Her hand trails a path from my lips to my neck and down my chest. It makes me shudder. What am I doing here? I only wanted to look at her, to see her face and let the seeds of doubt settle and take root in my soul.

Self-destructive, maybe. But I can no longer deny my need for her touch, her moans, her lips. Whether she is my Asuka or she isn't, doesn't matter at this point. As her fingertips reach the edge of my sanity I find myself believing that for this one night I can have her be anyone I wish.

It isn't fair to her, but that's the point of self-destruction. I only see my own demise waiting for me, oblivious to anyone or anything that might save me.

"Yoji," she moans as I slip a hand down her back, she arches. I keep quiet. I can't trust myself to voice a name, whichever one I choose might be wrong. So I kiss her, hard and demanding, to silence my doubts.

And she's not as passive as I thought. Her nails dig into my bare back, one heel pins my calf down, and the other leg is wrapped possessively around my waist. I let the pain be a backdrop to the pleasure. It's still there, lurking in the background, but I'll deal with it latter. A bite to her lower lip sends her head back suddenly, her eyes are fierce and nearly commanding I have my way with her again this night.

Another shudder racks through my bones. I shake it off and rub my hips against hers. She's so close. I've become familiar with her now. As her arms leave my body and take a death grip in the sheets, as her mouth opens in a silent scream, I can feel how close she is.

For a moment she leaves me behind as she reaches oblivion.

It's the one time I let a name leave my lips, when she has no idea how to listen. The only problem is I'm not even sure which name escapes me. "Kyoko" or Asuka? Who is she?

Slowly she comes back to me, her gaze hazy and a smile tugs at her sensual mouth. "Yoji," she moans again, a hand combs through my hair. Pulls it tightly back, the pain reminds me of who I am. My mouth drops to her collar and she groans fitfully as she did in the kitchen when I bite gently.

But I don't stop there. I can't. If she were to beg me now to leave her I wouldn't be able to comply. Of course she only pulls me tightly against her, both her arms tangled in my hair now as I lick her nipple. It sends chills through her and she arches again, completely willing her body to me.

I busy my troubled thoughts by giving her all the pleasure I can, all I should have, all I'll ever be able to give her. As my own end is drawing nearer, I find myself muttering her name silently against her skin. A sound never leaves me, but it continues to leave a branding on her pale flesh only I can see. Against her stomach, Asuka. Along her hip, "Kyoko." Drawn out down her thigh, Asuka. And again, I repeat my torture until she releases again around me. Her arms spread out in complete abandonment. Her moans, ripped from her throat.

A second later and I'm right there with her, spent and on the verge of losing myself to the insanity I've found myself in. The kind of insanity that should terrify me but only leaves me numb and begging for more at the same time.

As we settle from the high I collapse next to her, half my body draped along hers. Slowly, as if it takes more thought than it should, I pull away from her. But not too far. I can't let her go. Whoever she is, I can't let her go.

Her eyelids flutter as I stare at her. She smiles again, stretches out the kinks of her slender body and settles again. I want her. I crave her so deeply it nearly shocks me out of my insanity. But I ignore the warnings. Instead I take her hand in mine and kiss her fingers leisurely. Like I have all the time in the world to just lay here and kiss her hand.

Which isn't entirely false.

She watches me, as tired as she is. And as well as she should be.

I couldn't keep myself from indulging in this sin.

The moment I saw her after her shower I realized how weak I was to this "Kyoko," to my Asuka. Her dark hair hung limply, still dripping wet, when I slid a hand behind her neck and kissed her full lips like dying man. It was my undoing when she complied and opened her mouth to me.

I took her for the first time on the living room couch.

It was fast and full of frustration and desperation. When we finished, the both of us satisfied for the moment, I helped her dress and showed her the dinner I had prepared for us. But the second after we ate, and the wine bottle was dry. She stood and walked a slow, sultry pace that left me stunned and made my mouth go dry. She took me as I sat at the dinner table. Then I took her on the dinner table.

We realized there was nothing left for us to do but go to the bedroom and leave all of reality behind.

She should be tired.

A smugness that's so familiar to me settles in my stomach.

I take one finger into my mouth; she gasps suddenly in surprise and closes her eyes to the sensations. It doesn't matter what I do now though, she won't be able to keep up with me soon. In ten minutes I'll want her again, but I know she'll be out like a light. So I draw it out.

I take each finger individually; take my time with her digits and her palm and the back of her hand. As I plant open mouth kisses to her wrist I watch her slip into bliss. Her face relaxes; her hand goes limp in my grip. If it were not for the steady pulse my fingers danced over I would have thought she died peacefully.

I sigh at her prone form. If only I could keep her for another night. And another. And another. If I had the choice, I'd never let this woman go. This "Kyoko." This Asuka. If the world was in anyway kind, it'd let me keep her to myself and never have to share with anyone ever again. I wouldn't have to give her to the cruelty of the universe. I wouldn't have to let her go to Death.

She would be mine and mine alone.

"Kyoko," Asuka, she would be mine.

I feel the oncoming of a nicotine crave and I bite the inside of my cheek. I get up nonetheless and realize that my pants are downstairs somewhere near the kitchen table. So I grab another pair from a drawer and step out onto the deck. I leave to door open though, so I can make it to her without any obstacles. As I light up my cigarette, take a long drag, there's a slight prickling along the back of my neck.


Ok, so that's it.

I hope you liked it.

I've actually never done anything in the Present Tense so that was fun, and this is about the closest I've ever been to lemons. Since that wasn't really the main point of this piece I didn't really write much about the sex. But in another of my stories I'm planning on there being a lemon…eventually.

So I guess I'm psyching myself up for that by progressing slowly. ^_^

How'd I do?