: Goes Down AloneRating
: NC-17 (explicit sexuality)Genre
: Angst, sordid romanceWord Count
: After a close call in the TV World where they almost die, Chie and Yukiko end up having frantic "ohjesusfuck we're still alive!" sex. Only they're not in a relationship. And they don't think of themselves as being 'that way'. And now it's the morning after and they're paralyzed at the thought of having to open their eyes and face the other girl.
Anon isn't really looking for something fluffy, but rather something bittersweet and/or sad.Warning
: Explicit sexual content. It's glorified porn, pretty much.Notes
: What was that, you say that I’ve been writing too much humor? … well, okay. *cranks the angst machine up again*
This is, incidentally, a story full of bad sex. You will probably finish this story feeling as though sex is horrible and should never be attempted again by human beings. At least, that's how I felt when I finished it. Oh dear.
Title from “The Boys of Summer” by Don Henley.
“Well,” said Souji, “I think that’s all of us.”
He looked over at his friends, each in varying states of disarray. Physically, they all looked fine. Their clothes a bit scruffy and complexion rather pale, but fine. They all moved rather unnaturally because of the weapons and armor disguised beneath their clothes; but they made way to a crawlspace in Junes and stored everything there and when they came back from the crawlspace they looked very normal and hale. So there you go, normal as always.
They left in their usual way: Souji, Kanji and Rise heading for the shopping district, Yosuke and Teddie returning to the Hanamura’s residence, and Chie and Yukiko to whoever’s house was more available for the night. Souji passed through the gas station on the way back, and wondered why he didn’t see the attendant there. The air was damp. The temperature was cool. It would rain soon. That was the problem with Inaba. Even after the rainy season, it still rained so much.
He was tired. So he went home.
Chie and Yukiko walked home in near silence. There was a quick check up as they left Junes, soft and whispered: “Are you all right?” and then, “Oh, yes, I am, how about you?” and “Yeah, I’m okay” and then they fell into a comfortable quiet. They linked their hands together. It was perfectly natural. They did this all the time. But tonight it felt important to stay closer together.
Yukiko broke contact to call her mother. Yes, she would be staying with Chie tonight. The Satonakas were out of town for some reason or another—either way, she was very sorry to not have called sooner. Yes. Yes. Of course. She hung up and reached for Chie’s hand again and took it. She let out a long breath. They were glad to be together.
Chie’s parents were out of town to visit their great-aunt’s funeral, but Chie felt as though it would be—queer to bring it up when the mood was like this. Anyway, it was too cold. She offered her jacket to Yukiko, but Yukiko shook her head and said no, she’d be quite all right until they got to Chie’s house. So they went on. Yukiko’s hands felt cold. Chie could feel it. They felt cold. Anyway, they were both very tired. Chie didn’t think that she had ever felt so tired before, but she felt very tired. But now she felt a bit more awake, something stirring inside her that peeked through the fog and looked around, waiting to make a claim on the world.
It couldn’t be that cold. It was August. But they were still cold. They were cold all the way until they reached the door to Chie’s house. The dog was sleeping on the carpet. He looked up at the two of them, thumped the ground with his tail, and went back to sleep. Chie put some more food in his bowl and offered her shower for Yukiko’s use. That was all right, said Yukiko, she was quite fine and wouldn’t need one.
“We should eat something,” Chie said finally, because it needed to be said. So they made meager attempts at eating. Chie warmed up some rice and some side dishes and they ate half of what she warmed and refrigerated everything again. Then Chie said again, we should shower, and Yukiko said, Well, all right, like it was very normal, and then said, “I would like a hot bath. Would you like to join me?”
“I’ll wash your back,” Chie said. Yukiko would have protested, but Chie looked so earnest, and it’d be too bad to interrupt that. The hot water and the soap and Chie’s hands pushed some of the dull shock out of her. She thought that Chie was taking an awfully long time, but she didn’t mind it. Nor did she mind how Chie’s hands slipped so frequently—the soap really was slippery—and how Chie’s breath was right on her neck. They were talking about something; no, they weren’t talking about anything. It didn’t seem to matter. Yukiko poured the water over her head to wash away the suds, and said to Chie, Well, it’s your turn now, and Chie’s face flushed and she said, Okay and let her shoulders slump a bit downward. Yukiko thought that yes, the soap really was something. She couldn’t keep her hand in one place, and anywhere she tried to avoid touching, she inevitably brushed up against. Yanking her hand away would bring too much attention to the accident; so she reddened and tried to pretend that nothing had happened. It was embarrassing, but she wasn’t doing anything inappropriate to Chie, or at least, not on purpose; and anyway, they were such good friends, and a mistake like this was bound to happen once or twice.
“I’m done,” she said.
“Okay.” Chie splashed herself with water, slapping her face a bit and muttering, “Wake up, wake up” to herself. The bath was ready and hot. “You go in first.”
So Yukiko did. The bath was big enough so she and Chie could fit in it with ease. They sat across from each other. The water was a milky green color, so peculiar and strange. She had seen this water so many times before. She made a mention of it to Chie, and Chie said, Oh, well, and went a bit red and said that they had talked about this before, hadn’t they?
Had they? Yes, they had. She wanted to talk about it again because she couldn’t remember the first time. She wanted to do everything once more. It seemed like a good idea, in case there wasn’t a second time. But Chie seemed annoyed and no, Chie wouldn’t want it. So Yukiko kept quiet and sank deeper into the water. Her hair moved away from her. Chie reached out and took a strand of it in her hand. Yukiko was intensely worried about something, but it was just out of reach in the back of her mind. She couldn’t recall what it was. She wanted very badly to excuse herself from the bath and touch herself until she no longer wanted to be alone, but she couldn’t, and Chie was right there. So there was that.
“Your hair is so pretty,” Chie said. “I wish mine could grow out like yours…” Chie scooted closer to her in the tub until she was close enough to reach Yukiko’s face. There were words on her lips. Yukiko blindly leaned forward and steered Chie’s face in the right direction and kissed her on the mouth. The water splashed up around them. Chie lost her balance and fell on top of Yukiko, arm and hand across Yukiko’s torso, the other hand holding onto the guardrail and Yukiko helped her sit up and felt strangely proud of them both for restraining themselves until now. Yukiko kissed her again. Chie’s hands rested on Yukiko’s shoulders, then slid down to her breasts. Then Chie reached behind Yukiko and removed the plug from the drain. Chie stroked Yukiko’s back; her hands slid down further, and further still. “C’mon,” she said. “Let me help you out.”
They dried their bodies off enough to keep themselves from dripping water all over the floor, and padded to Chie’s room. Chie locked the door behind her and before she could even turn around, heard the sound of a towel dropping to the ground, felt Yukiko grip her shoulders and spin her around and then her back hit the door. Yukiko covered Chie’s jaw with kisses, swirled her tongue along Chie’s neck—and what was Chie to do, aside let her? She shut her eyes and tried to picture someone else doing this to her—but who? The only person she wanted to imagine that way was Bruce Lee. But it was her best friend and they both—
Yukiko’s leg hooked around Chie’s.
“Oh—” Chie whimpered, as Yukiko’s hand reached between her legs.
They both needed to let off some steam, anyway, and it was better to do this with each other than with someone else.
Chie cupped Yukiko’s face and kissed her because it was too dark to see and she wouldn’t have been able to tell where her mouth was if she hadn’t, just as Yukiko’s fingers slid into her. Her hips bucked; she broke off the kiss. She slipped. Yukiko caught her, and lowered her to the floor. Her fingers were still inside Chie. Yukiko parted Chie’s legs further, and then her fingers were all the way in. Chie pulled her legs to her chest.
Chie cut Yukiko off with another kiss, pushing her tongue into Yukiko’s mouth and put her hands around Yukiko’s shoulders, drawing her closer. Yukiko’s fingers inside her rocked back and forth; Chie squeezed Yukiko’s shoulder, deepened the kiss, let her hand fall forward onto Yukiko’s breasts and kneaded them gently. The fingers inside her curled. Pushed up, and… Chie had to break off the kiss to get air. She couldn’t breathe, even though she was gasping. All she could feel was Yukiko’s hand, pressed against the back of her thigh, her fingers inside, the points of contact, the sweat on her legs and her arms. Yukiko kissed her chin, her lower lip; on the mouth again, and did that thing with her fingers and Chie nearly threw her back out. Yukiko kissed her, then drifted lower and lower. Took Chie’s clit into her lips and all the air went out of Chie’s lungs. Then the fingers inside her were expanding and the tongue was wrapping around her clit and Chie banged her head against the door and came with a flurry of black spots in her eyes. She sagged onto the floor, into Yukiko, and then her chin lolled onto her chest. Yukiko kissed her again, and then said, “Come on, we should get to the bed.”
“Yeah,” Chie said. Her feet seemed so far away from her. It took her ages just to stand up, but once she did, she grabbed onto Yukiko’s shoulders and pulled her into the bed and kissed her all over again. She didn’t want to let go of her, couldn’t bring herself to, not now. Anyway, Yukiko hadn’t gotten off yet, and even though Chie wanted to just sleep, she could get this done, at least. She wound up pressed against Yukiko’s back, one hand toying Yukiko’s lips, her other hand jerking around her clit, once, twice—now her hand was cramping a little but she hadn’t to keep going, so she did. She pressed her face into Yukiko’s shoulder and then Yukiko reached behind her and grabbed onto Chie’s head and then Yukiko lurched forward, taking Chie with her. Chie wondered if she should keep going; wondered, and then stopped when Yukiko disentangled herself from Chie and said, “It’s okay. I’m done.”
They laid on the bed together for a while, not touching. Chie’s heart was pounding, pounding and pounding. She was so tired suddenly. It was like she had collapsed, fallen into herself; all she wanted to do was sleep except she could barely keep her eyes open, no way she could sleep—no, that was wrong, she should sleep. Yukiko rolled over onto her side and went to Chie’s drawer and took the usual nightgown from the drawer, the one that Chie didn’t like but couldn’t not keep since it had been a gift from her grandmother. She found Chie’s usual sports jersey as well, and brought it to the bed. They dressed and Chie made some room for Yukiko on the bed. Yukiko slid beneath the blanket and said, “You’ll catch a cold if you don’t get under the covers.”
“Right,” Chie said. It was hot, too hot for blankets or quilts or any of that. Her bare legs were hot, so hot. She throbbed uneasily, right between her legs. She squeezed them tight together and tried to shut it out; it didn’t work. But she was tired and the heat wouldn’t matter soon. She crawled between the sheets and closed her eyes.
When Yukiko woke up, the first thing that came to mind was that she desperately hoped that she was at home. But she didn’t sleep in a bed at home, she had a futon, and she was surrounded by Chie’s sheets and Chie’s—scent. Her stomach squeezed tightly, so tightly that she was dizzy. No, she wouldn’t open her eyes. She would wait until Chie woke up and got out of bed. Chie always got up earlier than she did, anyway, and she always made so much noise when she woke. But now it was deathly quiet. The sun was out, but it was summer. The sun had fallen onto Yukiko. It was warm, too warm. Yukiko didn’t dare to move. She didn’t want to let Chie know she was awake. She couldn’t face Chie, not right now. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.
She didn’t know if she had liked it. Certainly, she liked it, but it had all been a haze. She loved Chie, but she wasn’t, not really, or was she? She hadn’t meant any of it, anyway, not a bit of it. She fisted Chie’s sheets and buried her face into her arm. Yes, she was still asleep. Yes, when she woke up everything would be normal.
Minutes passed. Everything was still, so still. Yukiko thought many must have gone by, but she thought that her thoughts were toying with her. She closed her eyes even tighter. She swore that she could feel Chie, but when she reached out experimentally she felt nothing. She opened her eye just a bit, and found the spot next to her to be empty.
The house was still quiet when Chie returned from her walk with the dog. Yukiko’s shoes were still by the door. The kitchen was undisturbed from the night before. She let Muku go into the backyard and went upstairs. She opened her door and Yukiko was still on the bed, her hair spread across the blanket like it had been arranged that way. Yukiko lifted her head when Chie entered and said, “You’re back.”
“Yeah,” Chie said.
Chie didn’t know what to say or if she ought to say anything at all. Her fingers traced meaningless things into her palm.
“Well,” Chie said, “time to get up, right?”
“Yes,” Yukiko said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t sleep in like this.”
“I bet you don’t get much sleep because of the Inn, though…”
“No, that isn’t true,” said Yukiko, and so it wasn’t. Yukiko sat up. Everything was deathly still between them. Chie was strangely aware of anything that moved: the slight flutter of her sheets, the shift of Yukiko’s eyes, the leaves buoyed here and there by the wind.
Chie curled her lips into her mouth, and then said, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” said Yukiko without thought. “Are you?”
But she couldn’t answer. So she stood there dumbly. Yukiko didn’t blink, barely even breathed. She looked tired, but she must have slept for so long, so Chie couldn’t understand why Yukiko might be tired. And then Yukiko said, “I see,” and that was that.
“Do you think Souji might call today?” Chie said.
“I don’t know,” said Yukiko. “Maybe not after yesterday.”
“Definitely,” Chie said. There was something she had to say, something important that she had to say, something that if she didn’t say she might never say, but the right words weren’t coming to her. It was stuck. Stuck in her mouth or stuck in her head, she didn’t know. She looked at Yukiko and wanted to say, Hey, let’s watch a movie!
or, You want to do something together later?
or something, anything. But instead she said that Yukiko should head home before her parents started calling; and Yukiko nodded instead of saying something.
She went to leave so Yukiko could change, but Yukiko called after her and said, “Chie?” It was almost a plea. Chie’s heart went fast. Yukiko’s hands were locked together in her lap. Then she said, “You’re… you’re all right…?”
“Yeah!” Chie said. “I’m great.”
“Thank goodness,” Yukiko said, but the relief sounded fake and there was a hollow ring of disappointment in Yukiko’s voice, so unmistakable. Disappointment was always upset with the way things weren’t. That was why you could always hear it: the shape of what things should have been, but were not and wouldn’t come to be. Chie’s mouth went dry. Stuck, stuck again, but what was it that she meant to say? She didn’t know, it was almost there, the words she wanted to say. I
, but she what, what was it that she meant to say? I
, there it was again, running hot in her blood. She, she, she loved—but that wasn’t the word for it. The word twisted away from her and escaped. She, she—didn’t.
“I’m going to heat up brunch,” Chie said. “Is rice okay?”
Yukiko nodded to herself. Her legs were bare and white and even whiter under the sunlight. “Yes,” she said. She met Chie’s eyes and smiled, genuinely and bright. “Yes. Thank goodness.”
For what, Chie wondered. But she didn’t know if she should ask it, if it was even right to ask it, if it was all okay. She hadn’t washed her hands since last night, and if she brought her hands to her face she was sure she’d be able to smell a bit of Yukiko on it. So the word was what? She loved—there the word was again, not right but not—she cracked the knuckles on her left hand and headed out the room and said, “Okay. Brunch will be done in a few. Don’t be late.”
And this time the door closed behind her with a resounding thud, and she was glad suddenly, that things had gone down so well. But she was so confused, and things didn’t feel as though they fit right. But the door was closed. She couldn’t open it. She felt relieved again. Yes, things were fine. She went down the stairs, reassured and feeling like her normal self. The sun shone through the windows, hot on her skin. It slid up her cheek, steadily and warm. She remembered a tongue, a kiss in the dark. All the hairs on her neck stood up on end. For Pete’s sake, it was August. It was too hot to feel this cold.back to the index.