19
“19.” Before you even have time to laugh, orange-haired Ichigo grabs your hand and drags you towards the closet. “Easy, Strawberry, before you pull my arm off!”
He flushes and drops your hand, only to grab it again and pull you into the closet. “Let’s get this over with,” he says, probably not intending it to sound the way it does.
Keigo shuts the door behind Ichigo and you gulp, the sound overly loud in the small space. The way he’d said ‘Let’s get this over with,’ hurt, much more than you’d admit, and if you had your way you’d be going home right this very second. Unfortunately, Kojima had locked the door to prevent such an exit.
This wasn’t ten minutes in heaven—this was ten minutes in hell.
“Hey, ______.”
You look up ineffectually; because it’s so dark, you have no idea where Ichigo actually is. “What?” You ask, hating the way you snap.
“Sheesh, calm down, I was just trying to figure out where you were.” His voice comes from just beyond your right ear, and you reach backwards, almost immediately touching something warm. “______, that had better be you.”
You snatch your hand back. “Eek!”
He sits beside you, something you feel rather than see. His thigh presses warm against yours as he settles, slouching uncaringly. You can picture his characteristic scowl. “You really don’t want to be in here with me, do you?”
Taken by surprise, you’re speechless for a moment. “I do want to be in here with you.” You grope around and slip your hand into his. Ichigo gives your palm a squeeze.
Despite a bumpy first few moments, this might not be so bad.
“Uhm… So… Er… _______... Do you, uh…” He fumbles cutely for his words and you, unable to stop yourself, giggle.
“Spit it out, Strawberry.”
“Do you actually want to do anything while we’re here? We can just sit like this…”
“Why? Do you want to?”
“Want to what? Do something or sit here?” His voice sounds very odd. Finally, exasperated, Ichigo lets loose a huff of air and catches the back of your neck, crashing his lips into yours.
You kiss back, wrapping both arms tightly around his neck, one hand digging into his short orange hair. Your tongues clash at first, sliding against one another. Your breath is shortening as Ichigo pulls you into his lap, half-crazy for another taste. You kiss, lips meshing perfectly.
Ichigo is lean but strong, and you can feel it as he runs a hand down your back to meet the other at your waist. The five minute warning is lost as you continue making out like there’s no tomorrow. Pressing your lips to his cheek, you murmur, “I love you, Ichigo.”
His tongue slides between your lips and strokes the inside of your mouth, then he presses his lips briefly to yours. “I love you too.”
You manage to find the pull on his jacket and open it, then push it off his shoulders. Underneath he’s wearing a snow-white t-shirt, which you immediately go for, only to have Ichigo grab your hands. “Easy!”
Laughing and panting, you grin up at him. “What?”
“We’ve only got ten minutes. I don’t… I don’t want them to see you like this.”
“Like what?” Your left eyebrow raises.
He brushes your damp hair back from your eyes. “Like you’re ready to jump me.” He gently kisses you. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather keep my girlfriend to myself.”
“Hang on. Did I miss getting asked out?”
“You don’t want to be my girlfriend?” He sounds incredulous.
“Of course I do.” To make that point as clear as possible, you gleefully tackle him to the wooden floor and energetically capture his mouth under yours and his wrists with your hands. Ichigo strains to be let up, even as his lips heat beneath yours. You pin his hands more firmly to the ground, straddling his waist, while Ichigo squirms and growls with frustration.
“Dammit, _______, let me up!” With a thump, he reverses your positions, and with a wicked gleam in his eyes, begins kissing your neck, suckling gently on the sensitive flesh. “You are all mine,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to a ticklish spot just underneath your ear.
You squeal and grab his shoulders, trying to dislodge him, as he continued the sweet torment, his breath and mouth driving you out of your mind. Your rapidly dwindling sanity screams “Ichigo!”
He pauses mid-bite, his teeth still denting the skin of your throat. “Yes?”
You feel like you’re on fire everywhere, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “I love you so much, Ichigo.”
“I love you too, _______. I have to say… I’m pretty happy we had this little get-together.”
“So am I. If you hadn’t insisted we play this stupid game…” You both laugh, and Ichigo drops a kiss on the tip of your nose and another on your lips.
“Did you have fun?” He grins down at you just as the door opens, finding a mussed Ichigo and frankly rumpled you curled up together on the floor.
“Yes,” you say with a laugh, ignoring the others’ various reactions to your compromising position. You press a lingering kiss to his lips, which Ichigo returns with equal tenderness, before he gets up and pulls his jacket on.
You smooth down your sweatpants and slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he nuzzles your neck affectionately. “I love you,” he murmurs too quietly for the others to hear as you walk out.
“I love you too, Strawberry,” you answer, just as softly.
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