Title: Lullaby Author: Ysabet MacFarlane Pairing: Sohma Hatsuharu and Sohma Isuzu (Rin) Fandom: Fruits Basket Theme: # 27 (overflow) Disclaimer: Fruits Basket belongs to Takaya Natsuki and Hakusensha; English-language versions by FUNimation (anime) and Tokyopop (manga). Notes: I'm no good at actually rating things, but this contains fairly explicit sexual content. Set pre-series/pre-breakup, with no particular spoilers. Thanks to Sean Gaffney and Flamika for beta-reading help. ^^ *** The house is eerily quiet during lulls in their conversation. Rin turns her head to the window, squinting against the sunlight, and listens to the silence. "How late is your dad working?" "Pretty late." Haru flops down beside her on the futon, stretching until his shoulders crack. "I haven't even seen him in a few days. For all I know he's been crashing at work." "And your mother left for Sendai--" "--yesterday, yeah. Gone for a week. So you could practically move in and no one would care as long as the servants don't see you from outside." Rin's eyes gleam with amusement. "So as long as I stay on the second floor and away from the windows I'm safe?" "Mm. I could bring you food--I can kinda cook, even though my folks wouldn't believe it." Haru grins at her. "If Dad came home and found you here, he'd probably be glad there was someone here 'taking care of me'." "Wouldn't that depend on what he found me doing?" she asks. "I don't look like the kind of girl who'd be here cooking, do I?" Haru examines her as if meeting her for the first time, and she watches where his eyes linger: on the hints of skin showing through her skirt's side laces, on her wrists and ankles, on the lines of her collarbones. "No," he says seriously, reaching out to stroke the back of her hand. His finger lingers over the bones, and then on the metal studs of her bracelet. "You look like a girl who could stand to eat more." "Don't start," she says, pulling her legs up onto the futon and sliding her bare feet under the comforter. "You're funny," she adds, covering his hand with hers. "You didn't even look at my chest." "I did." He shrugs, meeting her eyes. "I just thought you might get tired of guys doing that." His voice is noncommittal, but Rin flushes. "You're not 'guys'--" "I know." Haru rolls onto his side and slides an arm around her, pulling her close. His lips brush her breast as he speaks. "I like the way you dress, so--" he leans closer, kissing her through her shirt. "I guess I'm used to the idea of people staring at you. I don't like that part, but I can't beat up every guy in town." "You can't?" "Not without the old aunts grumbling every time they see me, and the maids spying for real, and lectures, and _never_ getting to see you . . . " He looks up at her with an abrupt intensity in his gaze. "You know I'll kill anyone who touches you, right?" "I know." A chill runs up her spine--the teasing has gone deadly earnest, and the look in his eyes speaks volumes. Her parents are beyond his reach, protected by the love he has never tried to talk her out of. The chance to let loose on someone else, anyone else, would be a pleasure and a release for him. Rin shivers and cups his face between her hands. "I'm safe from that kind of thing. All I'd have to do is let myself transform, and--" "I know," he whispers. They stare at each other for a long moment, trapped in the heavy silence, and then Haru shakes his head once, hard. He sits up and touches her thigh. "Are you cold?" "Only my feet." She kicks them a little under the blanket and lies on her stomach, burying her face in a pillow. "Don't worry so much." "'k." Haru strokes up the back of her leg and along her spine, catching her hair in his hand and draping it over the edge of the futon. "Are you comfortable?" "Mmm hmm." Rin turns her head enough to peer up at him as he takes his shirt off and tosses it over the back of a chair. She watches from the corner of her eye as he lies down beside her and begins to rub her back. "Wow," he says, as she snuggles back into the pillow. "Hmm?" The circular motion stops, and she feels distinct points of pressure from his fingertips. "What?" "I can almost touch both sides of your back," he replies. His hand pushes lightly on her; his thumb under her shoulder, his fingers brushing her side. "You feel kinda breakable." The words are light, but an undercurrent of worry moves under them. "You're not going to hurt me, Haru." She lifts her head enough to nudge his arm. "That felt nice." He takes the hint and starts massaging her back again, slipping one arm under her and holding her while he works. Rin cuddles into him, drowsing while his fingers hunt knots of tension and melt them away. His scent is comforting; with her face pressed between his pillow and his chest, she imagines herself drowning in the clean, rich warmth of it. "You smell good," she murmurs, drifting under his touch, and his chest moves against her cheek as he laughs. "Glad you approve." He tightens his arm across her back. "Are you falling asleep?" "Maybe . . . " She opens her eyes, blinking at the room's brightness. "It's ok if you do," he says, kissing the top of her head. "It'd be nice to have you sleep here." Rin rests a hand on his chest, pushing away to clear her head. "I'd rather be awake when I'm with you. We don't get enough time together." "No," Haru agrees, brushing the back of his hand against her cheek. She leans into the touch, seeing herself reflected in his eyes. The wistful adoration on his face melts her heart. His open affection is one of the reasons they never see each other in public anymore; with some effort, he can remember not to use endearments where anyone else can hear, but the way he looks at her is unmistakable. Rin cherishes the names he has for her, the spoken grace notes of his love, although her chest tightens with fear when she tries to respond in kind. "Someday we'll be together all the time," he whispers, daring the sort of words they usually avoid, and Rin lets herself listen, craving the sweetness of them, wanting to believe it. "Someday I'll hold you whenever you sleep, and hold your hand when we're outside, and no one will care." She nods against his shoulder, closing her eyes again. Imagining freedom. "Tell me things I don't know about you," she says, trying to resist the allure of the words. "Things I've never thought to ask you." "Hmm." His fingers work gently at the back of her neck. "When you used to sketch in charcoal, I really liked the smell. Stuff like that?" "Anything." She weaves her fingers into his hair, contrasting the softness of the white strands with the close-cropped texture of the black. "I want everything." "Everything . . . " he echoes. "I let Aya-nii have one of the wrist bands from my New Year's outfit, to display at his store. So we're hoping Akito never actually goes and visits, 'cause it'd be pretty obvious what it is. But Aya-nii gets a lot of commissions from people who see it." His head turns under her hand. "I hung those wind chimes outside the window so I can hear your name all the time." "Does telling me sweet things to make me smile count?" Haru rolls over a little, enough that some of his weight is on her, and rests his forehead on hers. "Whenever I see your father I want to break his hands. So I don't go near him, ever. He tried to talk to me once, and I came home and puked 'cause I wanted to hurt him so badly, and I knew you didn't want me to." He takes a sharp breath. "All of my secrets are about you, I think." "What else?" "I love the idea of you dancing," he says, thoughtfully. "I'm a little nervous to think of your New Year's dance with Aya-nii, 'cause by then I'll have been imagining it for three years. I know you won't be dancing for me, but I love thinking about it. How you'll move, what they'll have you wearing . . . " His head drops back onto the futon, and he gives her an odd half-smile. "You want me to be honest, right?" Rin nods, and he looks steadily into her eyes. "That's one of the things I imagine most when I'm getting off. Not when I'm actually with you, but when I'm by myself." "When--" The blush that floods her cheeks is almost painful. "You think about me?" "Who else would I think about?" His eyes soften, and he kisses the tip of her nose. "You're the hottest girl I've ever seen, _and_ I'm in love with you. It's not that shocking, is it?" "No, I just . . ." She kisses him, trying to cover her embarrassment, and he buries both of his hands in her hair as he responds, holding her still while his tongue traces the inside of her lips. "What else do you imagine?" "Everything we've done. Things we haven't done yet." He presses his mouth against her ear. "Learning how to make you come until you can't stand up." She blushes even more violently, closing her eyes, and he caresses her hair. "I know I haven't yet, but I want to." "It's felt good the last few times we slept together," she says, trying to match his frankness. "After it stopped hurting, it's been good." Haru shudders, and she remembers the fear in his eyes after their first time. It stands out more clearly than the awkwardness or the pain, or the way his kisses warmed her entire body. "I want it to be better for you," he replies, and tilts his head. "So, my turn to ask you questions." When she nods, he continues, "What do _you_ do when you--" "I don't." He blinks at her, and she shrugs uncomfortably. "I mean, I've never really--I don't know." "Hey," he breathes, running his hand over her back. "It's just me. Talk to me." He kisses her forehead when she stays silent. "Have you ever touched yourself at all?" She shakes her head slowly. "It's just my body," she says, trying to pull away. "I figure I'm doing well if nothing hurts." Haru tightens his arms around her, wincing at the dullness in her voice. "Rin." He slides his hands under her shirt, his fingers instinctively finding the places where she was most often injured; the ghosts of long-healed bruises and fractures make her flinch away. "I know some things you like, but you'll have to tell me when I do things right, ok?" "_You're_ what I like," she says, her voice low and unsteady as she looks at him. "Just you. I don't care what you do, as long as you touch me and--" She blushes again, and Haru lets the silence stretch, thinking of how she has consistently responded to sex: returning his kisses and caresses with quiet hunger, having him enter her quickly, holding him almost convulsively while he moves inside her. "Being close is all that matters to you?" he asks finally, and she nods, not meeting his eyes. "But that's not all it is, sweetheart." He follows her hairline with a fingertip. "Just feeling good is ok, too. It goes together." "I know," she whispers back. "But when I'm by myself the idea of anything like--like that--feels lonely. So I never tried. And when I'm with you, I just . . . I never know when I'll see you again, and I just want you as close as you can be. In case." The fear in her eyes overflows into her voice, and Haru hugs her harder, until her bones creak. "Do you think about me a lot?" she asks when he loosens his grip. "All the time," he replies, and then realizes what she means. "Yeah. Kind of a lot." "Show me." The words are quiet with embarrassment, but she meets his eyes. "I want to see what you do." Haru blinks at her, and then nods. "If you want, I'll try to show you." "'Try'?" He laughs under his breath. "Well, it won't be like being by myself. I'm already pretty turned on just being around you." "How much?" She sits up and pulls her knees against her chest, touching his bare side with one finger. "You can check if you want--" he says, teasing her, and then stops. "Show you, huh?" He touches his leg deliberately, letting his fingers drift up his thigh, and Rin watches his cock harden as he touches himself through the fabric of his pants. "Just thinking about you turns me on, and if I'm alone . . . " He shrugs, his fingers moving against his groin. "I like imagining you." His eyes run over her body, not avoiding the way her shirt reveals her breasts, and she blushes again. "Are you imagining--" "Ohh, I am." His voice is low and intense, and Rin squirms under his gaze. His hand is moving steadily, his pupils dilating with desire. "Are you sure you want me to do this?" "Yes." She edges closer and touches his bare ankle. "Ok." He stops touching himself, and unbuckles his belt; pauses to pull his rings off and drop them on a bookshelf before he opens his pants and slides them a few inches down over his hips. Rin watches silently while he rubs his palm along his exposed erection, thumb turning against the head. Watches while he stops to locate a small tube of moisturizer under a folded pile of shirts, and squeezes some onto his palm. Her hand tightens on his ankle while he touches his cock again, working his hand around until everything is slippery; his eyes close while he grips himself. "It's really different with you here." "Good or bad?" His eyes open slowly. "Good. Different. I can smell your skin." He leans on one elbow, watching her face while his hand moves. "When we're making love, there're so many feelings in it," he whispers. "This is--" "Different?" She strokes his leg, watching his hips moving. "Really straightforward," he replies. "Mostly just my body talking." "What's it saying?" "Honesty . . ?" She nods unsteadily. "How much I want to fuck you." His eyes flicker, uncertain of her reaction, and she trails a finger up the inside of his thigh. "Just feel you and smell you and feel good with you. Only without so many words." His hand moves hard against his cock, and Rin imagines the movement inside her. "Show me," she whispers, and climbs over him, resting her weight on his thighs. Closes her hand over his. "Show me what to do." "That's definitely different," he manages, taking his hand away so she can touch his cock, slippery from the lotion instead of from her. She runs her fingers over it, unsure what to do to make him come in the openness of his bedroom, rather than hidden in her body. "_Show_ me," she says, shaking her hair back. Haru slowly closes his hand over hers, tightening to increase her pressure. "More like that." He moves her hand up and down, slowly, and his head lolls back on the pillow. She flexes her fingers, experimenting, and his eyes glaze. "Or like that." She does it again, his hand tightening her grip for her. He presses her thumb against the underside of the head and moans, pushing into her touch. "Right there'll make me come fastest," he says, and the hunger in his voice makes her smile. "Is that what you want?" "Yeah." Rin moves her hand against him, stroking between his thighs with her other hand, and the sound he makes sends a hot surge of desire through her. "Still want to fuck me?" She almost manages to say the words evenly, and the look in his eyes, wonder and lust, is more than worth it. "Too--" His head twists, muscles in his jaw clenching. "Too close now, sweetheart, I--" His breath hitches, and she tightens her grip on him, brings her other hand up, trying to envelop his whole erection. His eyes meet hers, wide with need, while his hands close over hers, holding them in place. "Don't stop, Rin--" Her name ends in a silent gasp as his eyes flutter closed, and she looks down, watches as he comes. Liquid warmth against her palms, trickling between her fingers, more of it than she had imagined, and his entire body is arching, one thigh pressing hard between her legs. She rocks against him instinctively, his arousal and release making her ache. "Don't stop," he whispers again, gentler, and she imagines him softening inside her after coming, still moving. His hands loosen around hers, and she strokes him more carefully, listening to the sound of wet skin on skin. "It's not usually quite like that," he says after a while, pressing lightly on the backs of her hands to stop her. She lets go with a parting caress, and turns her head to try blowing stray hairs away from her face. "I hope not, if I'm not here," she says, and Haru laughs. The hair persists in clinging to her cheeks. "Your hands are cleaner than mine. Help?" "Sure." He reaches up and tucks her hair back, stroking her face and ears gently. The motion sends wet trails down his side, and he curses mildly, grabbing a discarded linen shirt from beside the futon and wiping his skin off. "Let me see." He crumples the shirt and runs the dry side carefully over her hands. Rin flexes her fingers, twining them with his through the cloth. When he sits up, refastening his pants, she kisses him with a heat that flares against his languor; his lips part under hers, giving her unstinting access to his mouth. She is so intent on kissing him that she almost doesn't notice his hand traversing the short distance from the small of her back to the bottom edge of her skirt, not until the wandering hand is between her legs and stroking her through wet underwear. His thumb brushes against bare skin and she jerks away--painfully aware of her own arousal, embarrassed by it in the face of his calm. "Haru--" "My turn, sweetheart." His tongue traces the curves of her ear, and Rin struggles to think through the slow movement of his fingers against her, tries to make sense of the words. "Tell me when I do something that feels good," he whispers, and then his mouth is on hers, still soft but no longer submissive. His free hand strokes up her side, catching her breast lightly before he begins to gather her hair up at the nape of her neck. Uncertainty washes over her while his fingers begin to move again, exploring every curve of flesh and bone through her underwear. "H-Haru--" His hand moves to the outside of her leg, still under her skirt, and catches at the edge of her panties. "Can I take these off?" Rin wonders what he would do if she refused; is almost tempted, just to see, except for the way she feels him hardening against her thigh again. Her body aches under his hands, wanting him to hold her down and push into her. "I will," she says, reaching up to tug them down, trying to figure out how to get rid of them without moving off his lap. His hands land firmly on her hips, lifting and turning her without any apparent effort, and she finds herself lying sideways across the futon. The coolness of the air under her skirt startles her as she finishes sliding her underwear off. Haru watches her face while she does it, running his fingers through her hair until it pools around her head and off the edge of the futon. His weight takes her by surprise; she arches up into him, trying to pull him fully onto her. His mouth is busy at her throat, and then at the low neckline of her shirt. Tension and need bury her fingers in his hair, and he shudders as he pulls away, propping himself up on his side. The distance between their bodies makes her whimper as he stares down at her. His eyes are intent and focused, but his voice is bemused. "I can't believe I want you this badly again." "Then can't you just--" He shakes his head and bends to kiss her shoulder, caressing her side. Her hips move hard into his touch, her thighs opening for his hand when he begins exploring again, and Rin feels herself blush at her lack of control. "Shhh," he murmurs, the same comforting sound he makes when she cries. "It's ok." His palm presses hard against her bones, fingers easing into her. "It's--it's different," she manages, lost without his body moving against hers. "Haru, don't, I'm scared--" Tears are welling in her eyes while his fingers move inside her, and he freezes, kissing her face. "It's still just me," he says. "Does it matter so much what part of me touches you?" "N-no, but I . . . " She clings to him, squeezing her eyes shut against the violent urge to cry, and he slips his fingers free, cupping his hand against her body and holding her while she shakes. "I'll stop if you want me to, lovely girl, but I promise I won't hurt you." The fervent sincerity in his voice makes the words sound like a prayer. "Rin, I promise. Don't be scared of me touching you." "I'm not," she whispers, pressing up against him. "But it's not--I feel like you're not here." "I'm right here with you." He kisses her, and the familiar warmth of his mouth lulls her; she shivers and pulls him onto her, his hand sliding from between her legs to caress her thigh. The kisses continue until she feels lightheaded, as his mouth leaves hers and moves down her neck; small bites that make her gasp at the sharp sensation. He doesn't use enough force to mark her until he moves lower, pushing her shirt up under her breasts and sucking at the exposed skin. She twists under him, and he lifts his head to meet her eyes while his fingers knead her leg. "Let me touch you," he whispers, catching her hand. He brings it to his mouth and runs his tongue over the veins in her wrist and across her palm, watches her eyes flicker open and closed. "If it doesn't feel good I'll stop, ok?" She stares up at him, frozen with desire and anxiety, and he kisses her fingertips, waiting. Eventually she nods, and he smooths her hair back. "Ok." A faint smile breaks across her face. "You look nervous too," she murmurs. "'Course I am." He lowers his head, resting against her breasts. "I haven't really done this before." She nods again, touching his cheek, and sits up suddenly, curling herself around him. "I don't think I want to lie down." "Ok." Haru straightens up as well, cradling her face between his hands and kissing her. "Maybe . . . hmm." He sits back against the wall and opens his arms for her; after a moment of hesitation, she follows and nestles close, her back pressed against his chest. He fills his hands with her hair, twists it into a loose rope, and coils it between their bodies. A kiss at the base of her skull makes her shiver, and he puts his hands lightly on her shoulders, running them down her arms, her sides, the outsides of her thighs. "Mmm. D'you feel all right like this?" "A little overdressed," Rin replies, and he smiles at the sharpness in her voice. "But you're wearing the sexiest skirt in the world." He kisses the side of her neck, open-mouthed, and she squirms. "Irresistible." "You seem to be resisting just fine," she retorts, and he rubs his cheek along her shoulder. "No, I'm not." He slips one hand under her skirt and between her legs, pressing her against him while he continues kissing her neck, shoulders, and ears--anywhere his mouth can reach her, gentle and hungry. She moves helplessly in his arms, and he closes his eyes, exploring her until her breath catches and she goes still, her heart pounding against his chest. He rests his head on her shoulder, feeling the movement in her throat as she swallows hard. "Does it feel good?" "Yes." The faintest whisper, as if someone might be listening. Haru keeps stroking her, his hand gliding effortlessly over skin soaked with her need. "I liked this skirt," she mutters, a flare of frustration that doesn't hide her embarrassment. Haru cups his free hand against her face, pulling her head back so he can kiss the side of her mouth. "Don't worry about it." Her eyes are tightly closed. "Like this, or do you want me to touch inside you, or--" "Like that," she manages, pushing against his fingers. She twists a little in his arms, whimpering with frustration when her movement makes him lose the angle, too edgy to find a comfortable way to settle her head on his shoulder. Haru's voice is gentle in her ear as he strokes her. "Tell me," he murmurs, shifting his hand until he rediscovers the angle she wants. "Gentler or harder . . ?" She slides her hands around his upper arm and presses into his chest, trying not to move while he experiments. A firm stroke makes her head thrash against his arm, and she feels his breath catch at her response. "Like that?" She nods, not trusting her voice, and holds onto him while he settles into a rhythm, long strokes that end with his fingertips sliding in and out of her. The repeated hint of penetration makes her grind back against him, but it's the tension building from the pressure and movement of his palm that disorients her. "Haru--" Something in her voice makes him hesitate, and she tightens her grip on his arm. "Am I hurting you?" Anxious love in her ear, and the Jyuunishi bond flares between them for an instant, comforting them both; he keeps caressing her, and bends to nuzzle her shoulder. "No--" She is distracted by the way he pushes her hair aside with his nose and kisses the back of her neck, lips and tongue pressing greedily at her skin. The tension is swarming through her body, hunger that borders on pain; her jaw and temples throb with it. *Make it stop,* she wants to say, but the words don't come and the tears burning behind her eyes don't fall. She tries to concentrate only on Haru's scent, the comforting strength of his arms and legs around her, instead of the emptiness and the mindless ache that makes her push back against his hand. *Make it--* It stops abruptly, the tension melting out of her bones while her entire body jerks against his. Haru tightens his hold on her; the angle of the embrace feels odd, but it takes her a moment to realize it's because both of his hands are between her legs, stroking her more gently while his fingers move deep inside her. She registers the sudden delicacy of his touch along with the faint pain it causes, and twists around in his arms, stopping him. His chest is warm against her face; she inhales his scent gratefully, centering herself around it. "Too sensitive?" he asks quietly, and she makes a puzzled sound, too busy nestling against him to hunt for words. "For me, sometimes I have to take my hands away as soon as I come," he explains. "Too sensitive." Rin lifts her head and repositions it on his shoulder, too tired to move any further. "It wasn't like I expected." "What did you expect?" She feels his arms moving behind her, realizes that he's drying his hands on the sheet. "I can let you up if you want to rinse--" she begins, and he laughs. "I'd much rather have my bed smell like you." Heat rushes through her face, and Haru cups his hands around her cheeks, tilting her head up to kiss her. "Did you like it, even if it wasn't what you expected?" She nods slowly. "I thought it'd be more like when you rub my back. Relaxing." He blinks at her, and she feels the blush return. "I'm relaxed _now_, but it made me want to scream or something when you were doing it." "'Or something'," he echoes, and gives her a lopsided smile. Rin starts to sit up, confused, and he shrugs, extending his right arm so she can see the ring of crescent-shaped gashes from her nails. At her horrified exclamation he kisses her again, sliding his hands up the back of her shirt. "Don't worry about it. I've taken worse at karate practices that were a lot less fun than this, and I still keep going back to the dojo, don't I?" He traces the line of her jaw with a fingertip. "But if you want my arms to match that badly, I think going back for another tattoo would make more sense." Rin laughs in spite of herself, and tears follow the laughter, too sudden to control. She sees Haru's eyes widen in the instant before she buries her face against him. His hands curve to the bones of her back, holding her painfully close; the fabric of her shirt between their skin irritates her, but the unexpected sobs wrack her too fiercely for her to take it off. Haru moves under her, enveloping her as thoroughly as he can, and she curls into him, craving something she can't name. Something deeper than his body holding her down in lovemaking, more sustained than the tension and pleasure of his touch. *I want you,* she whispers in her head, wishing that the bond could take the thought and fill him with it. *All of you.* The hunger makes her dizzy, and she lays her head on the pillow while her tears begin to dry. "What were you saying before?" he asks, startling her. "When?" "When I was--" he stops, as if trying to find the right word. "When I was touching you, at the end." "What I was saying?" she echoes, confused. His fingers twine through her hair. "You were talking really quietly, and I couldn't make you out." Rin sits up and leans over him. "I was?" "Yeah." Haru blinks at her, upside down and earnest. She bends and kisses him, a hint of teeth against his bottom lip, her nose bumping his chin. "For a couple of minutes," he continues when she stops. "You don't remember?" She shakes her head, and he shrugs, rolling onto his side and pulling her down to him. "It was really hot," he says lightly, his lips moving against hers. "God, I love you." The words slide from his mouth into hers, and Rin imagines she can taste them, melting on her tongue like sugar. "D'you want me to do it again?" "Maybe." She shakes her head before he can say anything. "Yes. Not right now." "Anytime you want," he replies, gripping her shoulders and lifting her so he can reach her neck with his mouth. He kisses the soft skin at the base of her throat, closes his lips over her collarbone and presses his tongue hard against it, making her back arch. "Anything you want, beautiful girl." When he lets her go, she rests her head on his chest, feeling his legs tighten comfortably against her hips. "Your father had better not get back anytime soon," she says. "I'm really comfortable." "We're safe for at least a few more hours." Haru turns his head toward the window and the fading light. "Changed your mind about falling asleep?" "Mmm . . . maybe." "Ok with me." He shifts a little under her, reaching down to tug the blanket over their entwined legs. She snuggles deeper into its softness and his arms with a contented sigh. "Maybe I'll dream about you dancing," she mumbles, drifting. "Your dance was beautiful." "They always are." He slides a hand under her hair, rubbing the back of her neck while her breathing slows into the beginnings of sleep. No reply comes, and Haru tightens his arms protectively around her thin shoulders, listening to the wind whispering her name through the bells. [fin]