Author's Note: Originally, I wrote this for our own little world, but for content reasons, decided to publish it separately (plus it got long). Some chapters for 50scenes may straddle the line of lemon-lime, but anything explicitly rated M should get its own story. That being said, this is my first time publishing 'smut', so like always, criticism is welcome.
So, I'm also aware that these 'first time' and 'coming home' scenarios can all feel kind of similar - there are certain beats they have to hit. I'm definitely familiar with those other stories, so while I can't promise this is the most original, I wanted to try it myself anyway.
"It's my first night back in Living World… I don't really want your dad to run through me with a butcher's knife."
Keiko puffed in frustration. The sun set hours ago, stealing its warmth and leaving a chill hanging in the air instead – too cold to linger outside the back entrance of her family's restaurant. Her school-girl skirt was still wet from her romantic tryst with a certain ex-Spirit Detective. The hem nipped at her thighs, causing goosebumps to bloom underneath. Poor Yusuke – he was wearing jeans.
"Yusuke, please. You know Dad loves you." His dark eyebrows arched. "... and we won't get caught," the girl promised.
Keiko reached out, lacing her fingers with his, and squeezed tight. He'd only just come back; she wasn't ready to let him leave yet.
Despite his frown and the skepticism in his voice, the boy allowed himself to be pulled inside – putting up less of a fight than Keiko thought he would (Yusuke couldn't do anything without a fight). She wondered, maybe he didn't want to leave her either.
Keiko's heartbeat teetered, apprehension and delight both fluttering behind her breast, as she pushed Yusuke through the hallway and across her bedroom door. Two years, of days faking disinterest in romance and nights spent in lonely tears and worry, and finally, finally, Yusuke came back.
Shutting the door, Keiko warned, "Mom and Dad are sleeping so we have to be quiet…" just as the bedsprings whined. She turned and wrinkled her nose; the idiot didn't even have the courtesy to change out of his sandy, salt-stained jeans before making himself comfortable on the bedspread.
Releasing her exasperation on a sigh, the girl turned the lock. She tip-toed toward him, and his expectant mahogany eyes followed, wide as if to feign innocence. Annoying. The moonlight spilling through the window reflected brightly in his irises, and there was a genuine levity she didn't remember being there in the days before he had left.
That he could be feeling just as happy as she was warmed Keiko's heart, and her annoyance disappeared. Smiling shyly and eager to continue what she started on the beach, the girl reached out for his shoulders and dropped her head.
Ready this time, Yusuke parted his lips. Keiko's mouth opened, and her tongue brushed his bottom lip on the way inside, slicked across the hard line of teeth, and then over his. Turns out, a lot could happen in his time away. He thought the girl he'd left behind was careful and proper, but the young woman he'd come back to knocked him to the sand to make out in front of the whole team. Chestnut hair fell longer than she'd ever worn it, and splashing around in the ocean gave Yusuke a glimpse of how… lady-like… she'd grown. This Keiko tasted like salt, smelled like lavender, and after months of shaky political lines and broken ribs, she felt totally welcome.
"So… where'd this naughty girl come from?" Yusuke smirked against her lips. "Soaking wet in a white shirt, sneaking boys into her room…"
Blush rose at the idea of her friends – and Yusuke – seeing her bra through wet fabric, but she couldn't be blamed for her usual common sense evaporating in the face of giddy excitement. It wasn't everyday your best friend and possible fiancee came home from another plane of existence. At least he made it easy to settle back in their long-established routine of teasing and deflection.
"Oh, shut up." Keiko moved to kiss again, but jumped awkwardly when hands found her waist.
Thumbs pressed into her flat stomach, triggering memories of being fourteen – ones she revisited many times in Yusuke's absence. Memories of the school rooftop and hormonal teenagers learning to explore each other. Just like their back-and-forth, the old motions came back naturally. Slim fingers curled around his collar, and he drifted down to her hips, eliciting a barely audible sound from her throat.
Keiko slinked beneath Yusuke's faded jacket to push it off his shoulders, and he tossed it across the room, where it landed gracelessly on her desk. Biting back the impulse to chide, she placed a knee on the mattress instead to join him there.
"Could you really…" – Keiko tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth – "... see through my shirt?" Yusuke's tongue delved alongside hers, and she leaned in on her knees, bringing her hands to his jaw to better angle her mouth against his.
"Sure could. Oh- that's another thing... Since when did Keiko start wearing lacy underwear?" Warm hands slipped beneath her pleated skirt, causing her to jerk again when they brushed the fabric of her panties.
On the way back to Living World, Yusuke ran all the ways their reunion could go – from wistful (Keiko with stars in her eyes at the mere sight of him) to agonizing (actually introducing him to her new boyfriend). Words couldn't convey how relieved he felt it wasn't the latter. She'd really given him more chances than he deserved.
Raizen's voice – 'tell her how you feel' – echoed in Yusuke's ears, but teasing Keiko (and getting under her skirt) was way more fun. He never expressed himself well with words anyway.
However, the expected reaction never came. Instead of an indignant 'Yusuke, you pervert!', Keiko drew a sharp breath; rather than shoving the troublesome boy away, she swayed closer.
Keiko's response surprised even herself, but if diary-reading kittens were to be believed, she'd wanted this for a long time.
So she took a page out of Yusuke's book and followed her instinct.
"Well," – turning pinker – "since you've already seen it…" Delicately, she lifted the hem of her shirt and began undoing the buttons from the bottom-up. Her fair skin peeked into view, an inch at a time, as if she were unwrapping a gift. Yusuke pulled away. They'd never undressed for each other before.
Before he registered the sound of a zipper coming undone, the green skirt pooled around her knees. Yusuke gawked as Keiko peeled herself from her school clothes. His childhood friend had definitely grown…
Clad in just a pretty bra and panties, Yusuke couldn't help staring – admiring her from the cleavage he'd chased for years to her long moonlit legs. Even with all the reunion-possibilities from earlier, he never considered half-naked Keiko among them. Not exactly complaining, but still...
Yusuke's brain whirred, as if he'd never thought so hard about anything in his life. Obviously, Keiko wanted to take this further, but he didn't know how to touch her the right way, didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to fuck something up and prematurely end such a good thing. The pep-talk he gave himself then was more intense than for any fight as Spirit Detective. Slow down. There was no reason to rush, because he came back and wasn't going anywhere for the rest of her lifetime, and yet, her body looked so pretty and alluring. He wanted to explore every part of her laid out in front of him…
"Hey…" Keiko cooed, warm palms closing around Yusuke's wrists snapping him back to reality. She covered his hands with hers. "I'm nervous, but I'm trying not to think too hard about this. You shouldn't either," she giggled, "you're not too good at that."
He squinted. Asking him to grope her? Who was this girl?
Keiko bit her lip, "Really, Yusuke, it's okay... I want- I mean if you want to…"
Did he want to- Cautious fingers inched up her thighs to grasp at her backside, and nothing connected with his face. Actually, her breath hitched. He continued, more confidently because grabbing Keiko's ass was at the top of the list of Things Yusuke Missed About Home. He pressed into the swell of soft flesh, and it felt nothing like the crude, clumsy way he'd bother in the past. Keiko steeled herself against her own embarrassment, unwilling to let something like shyness get in the way of giving into desire. Genuine longing and repressed teenage hormones demanded they get closer. Keiko reached under his shirt to caress his sides, and he forced down a shiver as hardened muscle spasmed beneath her touch.
Encouraged, Yusuke took his shirt by the collar and pulled it over his head and off to join the Daiichi uniform on the floor. The cool glow of the moon underscored every line of his sculpted torso, and Keiko's eyes widened appreciatively, stirring something exciting and primal that wanted to make up for two years of lost time. Pale arms snaked up and around his neck to pull him in, and she noted how tanned his shoulders looked beside them – no doubt from countless hours finding his place sparring below a hot demon sun.
Working out the new sensation of skin on skin fogged his mind. The swell of her breasts flush against his chest so distracting, he was only vaguely aware of her nails cutting half-moons into his shoulders. "I missed you," Keiko breathed.
Her tone was sobering. Waves of relief and guilt and peace washed over Yusuke all at once, and he relaxed against her, resting his chin on her shoulder and muttering her name. Calloused hands stalked Keiko's slender frame – sliding up from her bottom across her bare back – until he held her just as tightly, like she was the most important person in the world. Time for talking and 'telling Keiko how he felt' could come later; for now, Yusuke tried to let her know without words: she was the most important person in the world.
His whole life, even at her own expense, Keiko afforded Yusuke space to fight – at first to bleed his anger away, then to indulge in the satisfaction it offered. As a Spirit Detective, he fought for the world he lived in but never belonged to and friends who inspired his inner power and confidence, for the only person across three worlds he'd ever loved more than himself.
She remained his sweetheart and his closest friend, and Yusuke never stopped wondering what he had done to earn the extent of her care. No matter how tired or frustrated or even angry, she always dropped her homework to scour him with rubbing alcohol after a bad fight. Or literally ran into a burning house to save his life. Hell, the girl braved a crowd of blood-thirsty demons just to continue looking after him.
Keiko shone like a beacon. A lighthouse. Watching, ever loyal, from a safe place, her steady luster as his guide – no matter how lost and turbulent his course became – to lead him home. Yusuke would always come back for her.
For a moment, everything else quieted and faded away, leaving only Yusuke and Keiko together in their own little world.
The sound of a quiet 'click' reached her ears, and white straps slid down her arms. Keiko stiffened and leaned back just enough to glare into his face, an effort that was immediately thwarted by his handsome, rakish grin. Tinted cheeks blazed as she allowed the garment to fall away, and Yusuke's eyes openly scorched her figure. Keiko ignored the vibrant heat in her face in favor of the one at her center, bringing his palms to her breasts.
Right. Yusuke squeezed at glorious flesh and pressed his mouth to her neck, trailing clumsy kisses there. Her pulse rushed under his tongue, and he felt tempted to drag his teeth down the column of her throat. The young woman sighed, breath on his ear, and arced into his touch. Wrestling hot and bothered feelings, a clear thought eeked through, "Hey- hey, how come I'm naked and you're not?"
Yusuke smirked against her neck. "If you want me to take my pants off, you could just ask."
Leave it to Yusuke to act so cheeky, even under current circumstances. Short of slapping her personal pain in the ass, Keiko could do little more than counter lamely and stew in stupid affection. She wrinkled her nose again, "I want you to take your pants off because they're still wet." Yusuke snickered. He peeled himself away from her and off the bed.
He pulled the zipper down and hooked his thumbs into the waistband, but then stopped. Dark eyebrows met at the center, and the girl could practically feel the tension in his bones. The question buzzed between them: "Is this okay?" And not just the jeans, but everything.
Consequences of making love to a demon be damned, because it was no longer a question. Afraid she might squeak, Keiko nodded instead, and snug, damp denim came off.
The young man straightened, drawing a ragged breath – hot, hard, silky flesh free from its restraint. Forgetting herself, cinnamon colored irises darted down and back up. Yusuke's uncertain, focused look now bordered feral. The tip of his tongue met his lip.
He pitched, and Keiko's last shred of logic realized they would devolve into a feverish tangle of lips and limbs and ...body parts in a matter of a few seconds. His arousal inspired lust in her – pooling deep in her core – and before that chased away common sense as well, the girl caught Yusuke's face in her hands.
"I have condoms."
He wasn't expecting that. "Say what?"
"They're in my desk drawer."
"'Wow', you have condoms."
"Shizuru gave them to me," Keiko countered primly. She gave his head a little push.
Yusuke spun around and released bated breath. His coming home escalated way, way beyond anything considered. He had Keiko's blessing to act now and think later, and that was usually his 'thing' with fists and strategy, but not with doting and making love. He felt very over his head (not that that's ever stopped the detective before), as well as something hungry lurking, making his skin hum. He just – just couldn't afford to screw this up. Yusuke crossed the room to her neat desk.
A demon territory occupied by a ravenous, bastard father and several bald-headed monks turned out to be a terrible place to spend adolescence. When Hokushin didn't work his King's heir like a dog (all the time), Yusuke remained alone in Raizen's tower to sort through stirring and confused emotions by himself. He didn't even have a VCR as an outlet…
His best friend crept into his dreams, smiling prettily from wanton positions; by the time he turned sixteen, she did so – more often than not – intentionally. Night after night, her imagined curves, sounds, words assaulted his senses, but now, Keiko waited just behind him, perched on her bed – topless and breathing heavy and real.
Fishing through the drawer, Yusuke found the box pushed all the way to the back – the seal still intact because there was only ever one person she'd use them with. He grabbed a foil packet, but something else that glinted caught his eye.
"These Shizuru's too? 'Cause they sure as hell aren't yours." Yusuke held up a gold and white carton of cigarettes – his brand.
"They are mine. I like the way they smell," Keiko sniffed.
With slow realization, his face split into a cocky grin. Leaving the pack on her desk, Yusuke snickered, and then his teeth flashed. "Aw man, Keiko-" her brows furrowed, looking annoyed and sheepish, and he'd never seen her look so attractive, "have you got it so bad for m-"
Keiko swallowed the rest of his gibe with a hard, hungry kiss.
When she let go, the mischief in Yusuke's eyes disappeared, replaced by that same inhuman shine. He handed the condom to her and she understood: of all the things Yusuke learned in the Makai, Sex Ed. likely was not one of them. Come to think of it, he'd probably skipped every health class in middle school…
Before tearing the packet open, Keiko timidly reached out, grazing the backs of her fingers against his abs before touching him. Yusuke hissed. His jaw clenched, suppressing profanities that might have escaped as she ran over his cock, barely ghosting his skin. It was darker and hotter than the rest of him, and she gently traced the pattern formed by tortuous veins. Her thumb skimmed the tip, and a shudder ripped through his body. "Fuck."
Keiko's eyes widened. Yusuke Urameshi proved himself to be the most powerful human on Earth and gained the respect of the three Demon Kings. He became dangerous enough to put all of Spirit World on edge, and yet she could make him shiver beneath her naive touch.
Yusuke's larger hand closed around hers to slide them down and up his shaft together, and he pushed his forehead against her shoulder, wetting the skin there with his breath, so as not to look her in the eye anymore. Keiko listened with fascination to his hushed groans. She'd heard them before – in this room even – after she pressed too hard on a tender bruise or with the sting of alcohol over bleeding knuckles. But they sounded so much more pleasant when derived from pleasure.
As he guided her, Keiko studied the timing of sharp intakes of air, pressures he preferred, which motions caused that part of him to twitch, filing them away so she could elicit that same groan again later. Yusuke growled low in his throat when her thumb rubbed over the end a second time, and they stopped moving.
Before she could ask what happened, Yusuke nipped her soft lips gratefully, and heard his own voice deepen. "Put it on." Familiar mahogany irises gleamed ruby-red, and it seemed to Keiko as if the Mazoku inside of him lie in wait just underneath the skin. The thought made her blood rise. She rolled the latex down his length.
And then Keiko was staring at the ceiling, Yusuke poised over her, pressing her shoulders into the mattress, eyes sparkling.
She ought to be frightened. Yusuke had been literally a world away, honing his new untapped power, satisfying his need for violence, sharpening his fangs for all she knew. And yet, he returned more at peace than he had ever been as a human. Most powerful demon on Earth or not, it didn't matter. Neither did the animalistic sheen behind his large black pupils. As long as it was he and her – inside the safe, private space they created – she had no reason to worry at all. They were together again.
They were together again. True joy welled up inside her heart and threatened to pour over. How was she ever willing to give up on the idiot when she loved him so much?
An uncontrolled, giddy laugh broke from Keiko's throat and spilled into the air. As if the sound broke a spell, Yusuke smiled – and not that damn sexy, cocky grin, but a real smile – and the feral gleam blinked away. Shifting his weight off, Yusuke pressed their foreheads together affectionately, breaths mingling, and she smiled too.
"Shut up, stupid. You're going to get me killed."
She opened her mouth to respond, but the palm pressed against her stomach drew her attention, and the words died in her throat. She tilted to watch him slide toward the place her legs met, and before she could consider whether it was her body or Yusuke's hand that trembled, his fingers disappeared underneath lace. Even as she saw him do it, Keiko made an almost-hurt noise as he turned up there and curled into slick warmth – the opposite of 'shut up'.
Yusuke froze, torn between the fear of getting caught and the staggering need to hear more. Keiko's eyelids fluttered shut and she shifted against him – mutely encouraging on. Complying, he searched blindly until she eeked "there…!" at her center and grazed her clit, the same half-whimper half-moan escaping her lips. Keiko rocked, fighting the urge to push her thighs together, panting because he caught on quickly.
Then Yusuke withdrew. The girl whined in protest, but choked on the sound after he pulled her panties off and found her again. Inexperienced as he was, Yusuke worked with considerable care, and as a result the tension coiled – painfully, deliciously, maddeningly –slow.
No dirty movie or dream-Keiko could have prepared Yusuke for the real-life writhing of her body or her ragged, sensual mewling. Her long eyelashes cast pretty shadows over her cheekbones, pink mouth hung open; she tangled her hands in his dark hair. The scent of sea-salt and lavender mixed with her sweat and sex clouded all thought.
Yusuke continued at his steady pace, keeping up despite her quivering, until he sensed her tip over some invisible edge. Her spine slid up into a sharp arc and her hips bucked. She fisted and pulled at his hair. A high pitched "oh-" left her as she fell, and Yusuke hastily covered her mouth with his, swallowing her pleasure as she came undone beneath him.
Her body quieted, and he repositioned himself between her thighs. "Seriously, Keiko, you-" he began, because she started the night by telling him to hush. Keiko blinked up at the sound of his voice, still out of breath, and Yusuke felt naked in front of her in more ways than the obvious. Warm and wet body parts pressed together. 'Tell her how you feel.'
"Keiko, you know that I-"
"I know. Me too."
'She's the best thing you've got.' Damn, Raizen was lame.
A blaring sound startled Yusuke rudely from sleep, and vaguely considered some strange beast made it into Raizen's territory again. Something wriggled into his side, and he jerked – first instinct to get away from whatever the thing was. Blinking himself awake, he found Keiko.
No longer in the Makai, no demon attacking him in his sleep – just Keiko, fumbling to silence the alarm clock before settling down again.
He'd wound up with most of the blanket, the young woman lying beside him covered by the thin sheet across her stomach and thighs. The sun peeked over the windowsill, casting a warm, orange light over her peaceful face and the peaks of her breasts.
Yusuke's skin still felt raw and sensitive and his ears suddenly too hot for the rest of his body, remembering burning details from hours before: The rustle of sheets. Keiko biting her lip and biting back signs of discomfort, then tipping her chin to the ceiling as her eyes glazed over. Terror, as they both froze – still buried to the hilt inside her – when Yusuke heard slippers shuffling down the hall. Settling on her breastbone as their adrenaline trended down after white-hot release.
He pressed his fingers into her waist. Keiko frowned. "Yusuke... don't..." she groaned, rolling away from him.
"It's Friday, don't you have school today?"
"I have to leave."
"No, we don't..." came her sleepy reply.
"I don't care how much your dad likes me. He's gonna kill me. I like all of my insides where they are."
She turned to face him, blinking awake, and he shared the blanket. Keiko blushed, covering her breasts, and peered at him from beneath frowny eyebrows. "I don't want you to-"
"Hey. Listen," he interrupted, "I'll go home - say 'hi' to Ma, let her know I'm back - and then I'll pick you up and we'll spend all weekend together." The corner of her mouth curved up at the prospect, although she still didn't look totally satisfied. " 'sides, we'll probably be alone at my place. You can be as loud as you want."
Fifteen minutes later (after a hard pinch to the arm), Yusuke sat perched on the windowsill with his jacket on and his knapsack slung over his shoulder. Before jumping out, he remembered the forgotten pack of cigarettes on her desk.
"I'm taking these."
"You are not," she puffed. "I told you, they're mine."
"Consider it your coming home gift."
Before she could retort ('after last night, a pack of cigarettes, really?'), Yusuke nipped Keiko with a rushed "see you later" before dropping out of her sight. She leaned out and watched his retreating figure – already on the ground – wistfully. The scent of cooking oil and miso drifted from downstairs, but she waited until she saw him turn the corner before joining her parents for breakfast.
Keiko sighed. School would crawl by today and four o'clock wouldn't come quickly enough. Yusuke was right – she did have it bad.
Author's Note: Oh, VCRs… I miss the 90s.
This one was supposed to be tasteful and it got seriously fluffy (and a page longer than I intended). The next one - maybe won't be so much. I found it tricky to write, I can't stop going back and picking at it. Hopefully it's better written and less awkward now. (Edit again: took out like 80 billion 'was's.)