She blew the dust off the small wooden box.

Clad in only a white cami and red satin shorts, and hair pulled up in a bun—a rare sight, the brunette held her unknown treasure with eagerness. Long legs crossed the room in hurried yet graceful strides, and the young lady plopped down her bed, legs crossed and feet tucked under her thighs, grinning like a kid.

Without further ado, she took the lid off. Inside were a variety of things. Mostly, they were old photographs, but there were also stones, letters in envelopes, and other memorabilia of sorts. She poured over each slowly and thoroughly, absorbing each memory and story presented by every little object.

Of course she would. It was her mother's.

She was going over a bundle of pictures when a kiss was pressed to her nape and her locks came tumbling down her back in waves. She jumped, a little startled. As it would, she was too absorbed to notice the opening of her window, the quiet padding of footsteps, and the shift on her bed when the intruder sneaked in behind her.

"There's a door, you know." She pointedly said, still skimming over the pictures in hand, but attention now divided.

The intruder brushed it off with a shrug. "So?"

Yes, she remembered, she was talking to was the most implausible person in the world. She rolled her eyes.

Said most implausible person shifted so now his legs were apart with her in between; her left thigh, still folded, was over his thigh, and her right leg entwined with his. His left arm was secured around her waist and his chin was rested against the smooth skin of her right shoulder.

He was looking over the pictures in her hands when she offered him some. He took them with his free hand, not before stealing another kiss from her shoulder. When he started to recognize the faces in the pictures, he understood why the girl leaning against him didn't notice his presence earlier even though he was far inside the bedroom already and directly behind her.

"Found it in the package my uncle sent. I actually think I saw your mom in one of these." She reached out to the other bundles of photographs inside the box and plucked one picture out. "See?"

He took them, only to see a pair of crimson eyes smiling back at him. It had been too long ago when he last saw that very familiar face. He placed them down and let the girl in his arms explore more of the bundles.

She was enjoying herself too much, and it wasn't because of him. He scowled. Also, he particularly didn't enjoy being ignored.

The hand around her waist started crawling from the edge of her cami to underneath it, skin brushing against skin. When it wasn't going any further, she let it be.

"Look! This must be their Christmas Ball." Yes, her attention still belonged to the photographs. This particular one had her mom and dad dancing; her dad, more tripping than dancing. "Looks like you got your dancing skills from your dad," he observed. He then started pecking her shoulders trailing up her neck and jaw, his free hand now dangerously closing over her thigh.

"Natsume, behave!" She slapped away the hand on her thigh. Surprisingly, he obeyed; for now. But the hand on her waist remained as it was, tightened, even. He buried himself in the waterfall of her hair before kissing the back of her ear. "Summer nights are best for things like this…" He began to nibble on her earlobe, his feet caressing her leg.

"I thought that was winter nights?"

He licked, before answering without obvious thought, "…yeah, that too."

She whipped her head to face him, and raised a finely lined brow. "Really now?" She laughed and gave him a peck on the lips.

All those efforts for just a peck? His techniques must be getting dull.

She resumed browsing over the bundles like nothing happened, commenting occasionally here and there. He, on the other hand, gave out smart, laconic retort every now and then, and got his patience stretched out on the process, thinning every passing minute.

He started blowing on her ear. She recoils a little every time and groans. But she still goes over the pictures. She comments, he replies. Then he started nipping her earlobe, again, while his previously still hand on her waist began to move further up. She jerked away forward to escape his teeth and hand.



She glared at him. The heels of his hand dug on the bed at his back, supporting him, and an eyebrow was raised, making him look the innocent one in the room. She glared at him more before returning back to her previous position. In an instant, the hand around her waist was back too, but it wasn't touching skin, yet.

She went back to the bundles and got herself immersed once again. Finishing the last of the current bundle, she reached for the wooden box with the intent of going over the envelopes this time.

Even though bored and frustrated, a glimmering blue caught his eye. "Alice stones?" He fingered one.

"I think so."

He placed the stone back and started to gather the other pictures sprawled on the bed. "Hey! I wasn't done yet." She tried to get them back but he successfully got them out of her reach and placed them back carefully inside the box. Unfortunately, he had to untangle himself from her to place the wooden box safely on her bedside table.

And of course, she just had to wrestle him for it.

"Natsume, give it back!"

In the end, predictably, she lost, and found herself fuming under him; both her hands pinned at the top with his right hand, while his other hand was pressed down on the space on the left beside her head, her legs trapped in between his.

He leaned lower. "That box is screaming more problems, more questions, and more drama. And it's not what I've come here for." He bit down the tip of her ear and whispered, "I'd rather hear your screams," before he slowly traced the outline of her ear with his tongue.

She blushed. "That was just one time."

He showed her that arrogant smile of his. "I'll bet you I can make you scr—" She cut him off when her mouth struck his in raw, angry passion. He bit her lower lip—a punishment, if you will—and darted his tongue to the moist cavern of her mouth.

Amidst their battle of tongues, his other hand found its way to under her cami, feeling the skin on her side, crawling over her stomach, then back to the side, kneading its way up to the side of her breast.

She moaned.

Giving her parted lips a sweep of his tongue, he directed his assault down her jaw, and stopped at her throat to bite, suck, and lick. When she gave out another sexy moan, he gave in to the urge of sucking the same spot again, motivated by the vibrations of the sound she's making.

Having her hands pinned made her feel a bit helpless, so she wrapped her legs around him and made him lose his support, crushing his body to hers. Under most circumstances, it would've hurt the people underneath, but these two people here exceptions to many rules and situations.

He groaned at the stunt she made. Now, he had to shift positions, setting free her arms, which immediately found his head; a hand raking through raven locks, and another hand massaging his nape to his shoulder.

He continued grazing further down to her chest, leaving marks along the way. He traced the edge of her cami with his tongue, and intended to leave another mark at the valley when the hand in his hair pulled him up. Her mouth found his again and, with little effort and without breaking the kiss, she switched them over; she now hovering over him.

With her legs wrapped around his thigh, straddling him, she grinded herself to him; licking his teeth, sweeping through the roof of his mouth, sucking and biting on his lip all the while. Her hands trailed from gripping his shoulders to fluttering touches on his biceps all the way to his hands, intertwining their fingers. She led those hands above their heads to the pillow and made him grasp it. Surprisingly, he complied.

She breathed against him, their foreheads and noses touching. "I thought I told you to behave?"

He was still catching his breath from her attack. "What made you think I'd do as you said?"

She raised her head, her hair a curtain around their faces.

The side of her swollen lips curled. She descended to his ear and breathed.

"You will."

Her hands immediately snaked down her arm, her fingernails scraping his skin. Her incisors played with the soft, fleshy part of his ear. When her hands reached their destination—one flat on a side of his chest, the other underneath his wife beater, feeling, scraping the contours of his abdomen—her mouth then moved from his ear to the column of his neck, tracing the veins with her tongue, teeth scraping every so often. Without warning, the hand on his chest tweaked the knob of his pectorals through the fabric.

He growled, his hands gripping the pillow harder, but remained in place.

She untangled her leg to kneel it on the space between his legs, sporadically moving it to grind at the vee of his thighs. He started groaning.

Damn it.

She shifted her attention to abused pectoral, licked with painstaking slowness, and bit, while her hand took care of the neglected one at the same time.

Oh god, look what he turned into with just the mouth and hands of this wonderful woman.

The hand on his abdomen ventured lower, as did her mouth. Inch by agonizing inch, her finger slipped in the garter of his boxers—

"You came here in your boxers?" She asked incredulously.

Profanity spewed out his mouth. "What the hell, woman?"

She remained unperturbed, eyebrows raised.

He grunted, clearly furious. "As if anybody can catch me." Point. He has been sneaking for a year already, and there had been no reports whatsoever.

Doesn't mean nobody can see.

And he always came in more decent clothing. She has the right to be baffled.

Yes, she has been reminded once again, of the implausibility of this man.

She moved up to level her head to his again. A pregnant pause. Hazel met crimson.

He freed the pillow of his hands and grabbed her to crush his lips with hers, turning her that she was tucked at his side. One arm supported her head and his other hand was underneath her cami, smoothing her back.

The molding of their tongues was very passionate, but it was also very soft, intimate, and unhurried. It was different from their earlier scuffles.

They breathed; noses in contact, mouth within inches of each other. Her palm lay flat on his chest, their eyes closed.

She brushed her lips with his.

"Thank you."

He opened his eyes, but kept his silence. He moved to pluck away the strands of her hair sticking in her face, her neck. She caught it, cuddled it against her cheek, and placed a light kiss.

"Thanks for the distraction. I guess I just miss them too much."

She opened her eyes and he saw the unshed tears, as if a dam ready to be opened. He touched each with his lips and kept them safely at bay. He held her closer to him, tucking her head to his chest, tangling their legs together.

"Mikan," he whispered through her hair.

Her lips lingered on his chest. The way he spooned her body, like every crease and fold found their matches, made her heart skip and swell.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Lucky I have you through nights like these." Her smile widened to a grin. "And winter nights, and sp—"

He swept her wicked mouth and took her breath away. "Shut up, Polka."

She grinned against his mouth and snuggled at the crook of his neck, marking another kiss, before closing her eyes, a satisfied smile painted on her face.

He let himself smile and spooned her closer, bathing in the warmth of each other, indifferent of the already warm evening. He closed his eyes.

"I still can't believe you came here in your boxers!"

Review if you would. Constructive criticisms appreciated. Reasonable flames accepted.

Posted: 052711 . 0950h

My first on Gakuen Alice, and it came out of nowhere. Yes, I must be on crack.

Summer Nights © aPpLecHeRrY™ May 2011