Love from Venus: Arc 1, Part 3
Title: Love from Venus
Part: ARC 1, Part 3
Author: Aquarius Galuxy
Fandom: Power Stone
Pairing: Rouge/Ryoma
Genre: Romance/Erotica/Friendship/AU
Rating: varies from PG to NC-17
Word count: 5,461
Summary: Sales representative Ryoma Iwakura's life careens off course when a business deal brings him to a hostess bar, and into the company of hostess and strip club dancer Rouge. A spark of attraction ignites between them, one Ryoma tries to deny. Despite his reservations, he embarks on a scandalous friendship with Rouge that questions his plans for the future.
Author's Notes: Wow, this chapter took forever, and countless edits due to me being on a job and sick. Prompts are from 10_prompts.
#9 (6:2 Over)
Ayame literally bounced when Rouge made her way into the crowded backroom and joined her and Cassie in their corner, her wooden clogs clacking noisily against the tiled floor. "How'd it go, Rouge? You've gotta tell us every juicy detail about last night, you hear?"
Cassie chuckled, tucking her jacket into her bag. "Give the girl some breathing space, Ayame. She's just got here!" The blue-haired hostess slanted a meaningful look at her dancer friend. "But that doesn't mean that you can leave me out, Chica. Which base did you hit?"
Rouge set her satchel down and sighed exasperatedly at them, pausing for a moment to catch her breath. The sting from Ryoma's sudden departure sharpened with their expectant faces. "You're both hopeless."
"That's why we're friends, right?" Ayame laughed, her inky eyes sparkling. "So, down to business. How far did you get with Mr Iwakura?"
'I..." Rouge had the decency to blush at the torrid scene that was still fresh in her mind. She busied herself with shrugging her sweater off. "Well, to be honest, we didn't follow the order of the bases."
"What, you shagged him first?" Cassie raised an elegantly-shaped eyebrow and grinned smugly, pulling her cosmetic kit out. "Looks like you had a good time."
"Yes and no. To having a good time, that is," Rouge added quickly. She remembered Ryoma's abrupt withdrawal, his denial of her pleasure that left her frustrated. Over the night, she'd come to terms with the fact that she'd probably destroyed Ryoma's impression of her. It didn't mean that she had to like it, though.
"Why the long face?" Ayame stared at her worriedly. "Did he mistreat you? If he did, I'll--"
"No, he didn't," the chocolate-haired hostess cut in before she could suggest a violent form of murder. Picturing Ryoma in gory scenes was far from appealing. "I pushed him too far."
"What did you do?" Cassie stopped retouching her makeup to look at Rouge. "I doubt it was rape."
"I gave him a lapdance in the nude." Rouge shrugged nonchalantly and ignored the nagging sense of loss in her chest, keeping her gaze on the low table. The deep flush on his cheeks was stark in her mind. Did Ryoma know how damn sexy he was? She'd wanted to have him right then and there.
"And did he like that?" Ayame probed cautiously, twisting her hair into a traditional Moonland bun. Rouge occasionally wished her hair was short enough to do the same.
"Very much." A smile made its way onto Rouge's lips. The expression on his face had been tainted with lust, even if he did try to suppress it. And his cock felt so good behind his pants that she'd have loved to see -- and touch -- it in its entirety. She swallowed.
"Earth to Rouge," Ayame sang, elbowing her lightly in the ribs. She blinked out of her thoughts and looked back at them sheepishly.
"As I was asking--" Cassie paused to look pointedly at her. "--How exactly did you know he was interested? Juicy details, girlfriend."
Rouge blushed at the question, hardly surprised at their audacity. "You're insufferable, Cassie." At their amused gazes, she reluctantly gave in. "Okay, okay! I ground into him. He was hard."
The pair exchanged glances and giggled. Rouge rolled her eyes, her cheeks hot. Ayame cast her a cheeky grin. "Was he big?"
"As far as I could tell, yes." Rouge tried to frown at her, albeit unsuccessfully. It wasn't as if the girls hadn't done it before. In fact, the teasing was characteristic of their friendship.
"Bet you'd have gone at it with him on the spot." Cassie lifted her eyebrows and glanced conspiratorially at her.
"Hell yes I would." Rouge allowed herself one last fantasy before sobering. "But anyway, it's all over now. I half suspect that he doesn't trust himself any more than he does me." At their looks of surprise, she continued, "It looked as if he was enjoying what I did for the most part, right up 'til before he pushed me away."
"Damn, that's a pity," Cassie muttered in sympathy, reaching over to give Rouge a quick hug.
"Your shift is starting, girls!" the Madam stuck her head through the door and hollered over the chatter of the hostesses. All conversation in the room halted. Rouge, Cassie and Ayame turned towards their supervisor at the same moment, waiting until she left.
"Life happens. I'll deal." Rouge managed a small smile at her friends, checking her appearance in a mirror before slinging her arms over their shoulders. Ryoma was a man she had a crush on, but Ayame and Cassie would be around no matter what happened. "Besides, I still have you girls with me."
---
#10 (7:2 Long distance)
Ryoma slouched into the sofa, staring blankly at the cookery show that had just begun on TV. It was quiet in the apartment for a change. Falcon had gone on one of his night-long excursions -- 'clubbing', he called it -- and he didn't expect to see his friend 'til the following morning. (Never mind that it was still a work day.) The blond had invited Ryoma along on his fun, but there was no way that he was going to go anywhere with girls and alcohol again.
Especially if Rouge was involved.
He scowled. It was greatly annoying that his body had betrayed him the previous night. There had been so many girls at the club -- for some reason, those hormones of his had decided that it would do him good to entertain thoughts of a particular dancer naked. Hell, he hadn't even wanted the lapdance. Rouge didn't feel good. (Yes, yes she did.) And he didn't like that she could bring him so close just by dancing and grinding in his lap. The utter lack of control she induced threw him off-kilter like few others had done. Ryoma inhaled deeply.
Back in Moonland, his parents were awaiting his return. He was to have an arranged marriage with some girl in his hometown when his twenty-fourth birthday came along. It'd be a short, simple wedding to a girl of virtue. If he fooled around with Rouge now, however, he'd just be failing both his parents and his future wife.
No, what he had to do was concentrate on his work here, and save enough so that he could afford to raise a family of his own back home. It was just the way things were -- the men found employment for long periods overseas, and the womenfolk stayed home to raise their children. He'd be a wealthy man by the time he settled in Moonland for good.
Ryoma sighed and plastered his hand over his face, leaning his head back against the couch. Rouge didn't belong anywhere in that plan he'd worked out. It didn't even matter that her interest would be nice in a wife he didn't know. His parents would be the ones doing the selection, and he'd trust them on their choice. All he wanted was a peaceful, stable life at the end of the day.
When he thought about her smile again, though, his stomach jolted. Ryoma groaned and cursed himself. Despite him trying to rid his mind of her, she still clung on, haunting him like a trace of lilies in the summer breeze.
He cast his gaze around, looking for a distraction. One came in the decisive hands of the wall clock, which announced that he was due to leave for his kendo training soon. Ryoma flicked the TV off and thanked his stars for the momentary escape.
After all, he wasn't infatuated with the dancer called Rouge. It was just a passing phase.
On the other side of town some hours later, Rouge tossed and turned in bed, watching the burgeoning rays of dawn chase the night sky away. It occurred to her that the drawn curtains would disrupt her slumber only after some minutes. Wearily, she crawled out from between the sheets, padding over to the window to shut the offending drapery. Pedestrians were starting to emerge on the streets below, those who worked in the harsher trades.
A written note on her bedside table caught her eye shortly before she wriggled beneath the covers again. At the very least, the spot she'd just vacated was still warm. Rouge stared up at the ceiling, wishing fleetingly that there was more money to spare for the radiator, before she recalled the contents of the memo.
It was a short, simple message from her roommate, Mindhi. Their landlord had just collected their rent earlier in the day. That, in itself, was not something they'd usually worry about; this time, however, their rental for the month had been raised, and she'd had to fork out her remaining cash to pay for the increase that Mindhi couldn't afford. There was just enough left for food and some daily necessities now. How they'd manage to make it through the next month was beyond her.
Shivering, Rouge turned over in bed, trying to forget the worry that Mindhi's note wrought in her stomach. The dismal news had plagued her for hours, quickening her pulse with anxiety. She'd been losing sleep over it for the past week, and only recently had she discovered a temporary salve to her stress.
Ryoma didn't know how essential he was to her sanity.
The dancer took deep, steadying breaths to calm herself, filling her attention with the raven-haired sales representative. He had been so tempting the night before, desire darkening his intense gaze. His cologne had smelled good; his scent teased her interest, drew her closer for another sniff. She'd relished the feel of his strong body beneath hers, taut with need and restraint that only made her crave to undo him. He hadn't known that, had he?
Ryoma's arousal had been so palpable that she'd been unable to keep her hands off him, like an alcoholic granted his first sip after abstaining for months. And gods, he had been so hard. She'd have loved to stroke him through his pants, feel just how large he was, before freeing that thick shaft from its confines.
Just thinking about it had heat gathering in her middle, slowly easing the knots of tension throughout her body. Rouge savoured the growing tightness in her loins, that repelled the cold seeping through her blankets.
If she could, she would have pressed her hand into his trousers first, just to test his urge. Shock and need would have mingled in his eyes. There was something about his holding back that enticed her, his ill-hidden want echoing hers. Would he moan if she squeezed him then, or would she have to commit her tongue to his flesh before he surrendered?
Rouge imagined his groan of pleasure, feeling a familiar throb start between her legs. The demands of her life had lifted from her conscience for now. She slipped a hand down to her sex, gasping as she lost herself in thoughts of Ryoma.
---
#11 (3:10 Afraid)
"I said, I'm not going."
"For goodness's sake, Ryoma, just this once. Please?" Falcon rummaged through the set of drawers that had become his temporary closet, looking for the bowtie he knew was in there somewhere. It was fortunate that his old friend had been living alone when he was evicted. Squeezing into an apartment with Ryoma proved to benefit them both, even if it came with its downsides.
"I've been to that hellish place once, and that's enough to last me a lifetime." Ryoma sent him a dark glare over the half-polished blade of his bamboo sword.
"Come with me and make it two lifetimes. Then I won't bother you till the life after. Does that sound good or what?" Falcon cajoled, looking up from the drawers and waggling his eyebrows. In fact, that was about the best proposition he'd made in a while. He felt a little proud of himself for it.
"I don't believe in having multiple lives, Falcon." Ryoma jabbed a rag into his can of polish, before shining his weapon with a vengeance.
It was amusing to tease the man. Falcon neglected to mention that he got a kick out of baiting him, instead smothering a grin and turning back to his stashed clothes. "You're just afraid of meeting Rouge again."
Ryoma's stare bore into the back of his skull. He was stubborn, and not in a good way. Perhaps Rouge liked teasing a reaction out of him as well. (A different sort of reaction, of course.) Falcon snickered. Ryoma stared suspiciously at him. "I am not afraid of anyone."
"Yeah, yeah. Says the man who fled just because of a little grope." And honestly, how much of him could Rouge have touched? Falcon toyed with the idea of Ryoma losing his chastity. The expression on his face would be hilarious. Or sexy. Either way, the man was built to have sex. He just didn't want to admit it.
There was a lengthy pause. When he next looked up, Ryoma's cheeks were awash with scarlet. "It wasn't just a 'little' grope," he muttered so lowly that Falcon almost couldn't catch his words.
"It wasn't?" He gaped at Ryoma in surprise. Where was it that he went- Oh. Venus. The service there was certainly excellent. Falcon smirked. Ryoma must have been appalled by that place, although he was certain that it wasn't the quality of dancers that had put the man off. "What's that blush for, buddy?"
If anything, Ryoma reddened further and finally turned away. Falcon chuckled to himself. He had a fairly good idea of what might have happened, and he wished fervently that he could've seen Ryoma's countenance then.
"It's nothing." Ryoma sent him a sullen stare to shut him up.
Falcon snorted. The Moonlander couldn't lie if his life depended on it. When would he realise that? He propped himself on the open drawer, looking idly at his friend. "Yeah, right. I know you, buddy. You wouldn't be avoiding the place like the plague unless you were afraid of how you'd react towards Rouge. And she gives you some Serious Reactions, dude."
"That's not the case," Ryoma persisted, passing his rag over his gleaming sword. Falcon doubted that it was any less reflective than a mirror, now.
"Then prove it." He grinned crookedly, turning back to the drawer when he glimpsed the loop of his bowtie.
"No."
Falcon exhaled in sheer annoyance, throwing his hands into the air, tie forgotten. Throughout the years he'd known Ryoma, this was the first time his buddy was being so difficult. "Whatever. I'm just going to take it that you're afraid of your crush on Rouge. That's all there is to it."
"I am not!" Ryoma sputtered, growling under his breath. "Just give it up already--"
"Be a man, Ryoma. Come to the hostess club with me and prove yourself." Falcon rolled his eyes, snatching his bowtie from the drawer lest he lost it to its depths again. "Even if she were there, she wouldn't get in more than a tiny feel when I'm around. There's nothing to squeal about."
He watched as Ryoma closed his eyes and brought his idea into solemn consideration, hiding a smile. Convincing the man of something he wanted was so easy when he knew which buttons would yield the fastest results. After another long-drawn pause, Ryoma stirred from his seat on the floor. "Fine, I'll agree to go. But you owe me one, Falcon."
Falcon leapt to his feet in a cheer, wincing when his shin bumped into the drawer. "You'd be the one owing me by the time this is over, Ryoma."
---
#12 (8:5 Disappointed)
The Royal Hostess Club was exactly as Ryoma remembered it from a week ago. Smooth strains of music entertained them while the bouncer checked their ID's, doing little to calm his taut nerves. Rouge was in the club somewhere, and knowing that he'd see that smile of hers again sent a little bubble of excitement welling up in his middle. No, he was not looking forward to meeting her. He didn't want to remember her scent (it was floral and musky) and he definitely did not want to feel how warm and pliant she was again.
Falcon lifted one straw-coloured eyebrow at him when he remained standing by the bouncer in a daze. He blinked his thoughts away awkwardly, following his friend as the plump lady from before led them to a smaller booth this time.
"How may I help you, sirs?" she asked in a low, oiled tone after they'd taken their seats. Ryoma discreetly avoided the plunging neckline of her red sequined dress. But her black curls and too-red lips didn't make for much of a sight, either. "A hostess for each of you to start off, perhaps?"
"Well, we'd like the hostesses we got when we visited with Mr Gunrock the other day--" Falcon rubbed his nose thoughtfully. The woman's eyes brightened with recognition. "Ayame, I think her name was. And Rouge."
Ryoma narrowed his gaze at Falcon. He didn't require Rouge to be this close the whole night. The blond ignored him. Without quite knowing why, he glanced around the club, doing a cursory scan for the mocha-toned dancer. Maybe she was in the backroom.
"Oh, Rouge." There was a slight downward inflection in the lady's speech that drew both men's attentions, as if ill tidings had befallen the dancer. Ryoma found himself hoping that she hadn't been laid off. "I'm sorry to inform you that she isn't on duty today, gentlemen."
Falcon pouted. Ryoma stared blankly at her, torn between relief and a weird sense of disappointment. He shouldn't be upset that she wasn't around. The minx was more trouble than she was worth. But remembering how easily she had got him to open up the very first time made him think that he might have given her less credit than she deserved. She hadn't meant him any harm.
No, she would bed him without so much as asking. Rouge was a poison he wouldn't be wary of until it was too late.
Ryoma blinked in comprehension when the woman suggested Cassie accompany them instead. He vaguely recalled a flash of blue and nodded. Falcon mirrored his reaction, tailing her with his gaze until she retreated. Not having to spend the next few hours beside Rouge set Ryoma at great ease.
"That sucks, man."
"I'd think it a blessing," he retorted, folding his arms as he leaned back into the waxed leather seat. If he concentrated hard enough, he could tune out the presence of these hostess girls. The two who would be joining them would not pose as much a distraction as Rouge did.
"Heya, guys!" a familiar melodic voice chirped, seconds ahead of the clacking of traditional clogs. Ayame, with her inky hair in her usual bun, made her appearance first, waving lightly at them. Ryoma glanced at her blue butterfly-print kimono and thought of home. "Mr Falcon and Mr Iwakura, am I right?"
"Call me Falcon and that old grouch over there, Ryoma." The blond grinned, patting the seat next to him. Ryoma averted his eyes when his roommate slipped his arm around her waist, grinning a welcome at her. "Good to see you again, Ayame."
"We apologise that Rouge isn't able to join us today." Cassie dipped in a curtsy and took a seat beside Ryoma, smiling warmly at him. He nodded back stiffly. Unlike a week ago, she was dressed in a white thigh-high number this evening. "You do still remember my name, don't you, Ryoma?"
"You're Cassie," he offered, watching as she grinned in delight. He wasn't one to incite false hope, however, so he added as an afterthought, "I heard Falcon mention it."
She laughed. "Oh, you wet blanket!" He shrugged. But then Cassie sobered, and murmured almost contemplatively, "Maybe that's why Rouge was so interested in you."
He stared at her, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks at the mention of him and Rouge in the same sentence. Why was she haunting him even without being here? "I don't know what you're talking about."
Falcon and Ayame did, however. They perked up at the mention of the absent dancer, each giving Ryoma a surreptitious glance. He frowned at them. The platter with warm towels arrived then, and he busied himself with wiping his hands and face. When Cassie accidentally brushed his fingers, there was no jump in his pulse; their eyes did not meet on instinct. He wasn't attracted to every other girl, then. Just Rouge. Somehow, that didn't sound much more comforting.
"Hey, did you just say that Rouge is interested in Ryoma here?" Falcon raised his eyebrows and grinned, turning to Cassie. Ryoma blushed and pretended not to have heard him. Idle gossip was really not his thing, even if it did concern the particular woman his body desired.
"Yeah, she was interested in him," Ayame replied on the blue-haired hostess's behalf, sighing with a trace of dejection. She leaned into Falcon and waved a runner over.
"'Was'?" he parroted in confusion, pausing when their drink orders were taken. "You mean, she's no longer after him?" He slid an accusatory glance towards Ryoma.
"What?" Ryoma frowned, folding his arms defensively. "That's none of my business." It stung a little, knowing that he did still want her on some primal level.
"The poor dear is convinced that he's totally put off her now." Cassie clucked her tongue, her cerulean ringlets swaying when she shook her head. "We don't know what she did, but she was really sorry about it the next day. It isn't often that she fancies a man, too."
Ryoma felt the first twinges of guilt emerge in his chest. Come to think of it, he hadn't even treated her nicely before he left. It wasn't so much the woman he had been fleeing as it was his unbidden reactions. There was no way that he was going to further encourage her... but maybe he did owe her an apology.
Cassie, on her part, lay her hand on his arm like she was trained to do. He put up with it to spare her the embarrassment of rejecting her. Her attention brought him a touch of unease, however, a different sort of discomfort from what Rouge gave him.
"That's not true! Ryoma is so into her, trust me." Falcon gave both women a thumbs up, grinning. They returned his smile with some measure of mischief.
"I did not say that," Ryoma snapped, glaring at his old friend. The two girls watched their exchange avidly.
"Yeah, you act it." Falcon smirked. Their drinks arrived then, and the four shared a toast. Ryoma eyed Falcon irritably, cringing when his colleague brightened. "So, tell me more about this Rouge of yours."
He could have shovelled a hole in the ground just to get away from all this.
"Rouge... she's a pretty deep person, seriously speaking." Ayame looked thoughtfully into her drink. "She doesn't tell us everything, but she answers questions."
"And she's loyal." Cassie smiled, swirling her liquor as she ticked the points off her fingers. "Doesn't follow the rules, has a good heart. She's single, too."
"Yeah, unattached," Ayame tacked on, winking suggestively at Ryoma. He flushed and turned away.
"A pretty girl like her, with no boyfriend?" Falcon asked incredulously. It took a couple of moments for the gears to turn in his head. "That is so your call, buddy."
"It is not!" Ryoma frowned at the three of them. Since when had they decided to gang up on him? He wasn't interested in Rouge, and that was final. He didn't need a girlfriend, nor did he need a sex partner. All he wanted to do was apologise to her. Then he'd be free of her for good.
Around him, Falcon, Ayame and Cassie shared knowing looks about something that he knew would not come to pass, not if he could help it.
---
#13 (7:8 Kiss)
The autumn chill wound into the fabric of his suit, pricking goosebumps over his skin. Ryoma cursed his lack of foresight as he stamped his feet, glancing up at the cloud-laden sky. This was starting to be a bad idea. He should never have picked those tidbits of information that Cassie and Ayame had so helpfully let fall.
It was almost quiet here in the back alleys, with just the muffled thumping music emanating through the closed door of Club Venus. A bouncer strolled by occasionally to maintain the security of the establishment. Ryoma kept some yards away from his patrol, and in the shadows, so as to avoid a possible conflict.
He checked his watch again, squinting in the semi-darkness to make out the time. It was a quarter past twelve, roughly when the hostess club girls had mentioned that Rouge would be ending work today. Thinking that he'd meet Rouge for real now sent flutters through his insides.
Ryoma exhaled loudly. Having been standing out in the cold for the better part of two hours, he was starting to question his sanity. More so because Rouge was concerned. He hadn't told anyone of his plan to apologise to her -- all he'd volunteered as an excuse back at the hostess club was that he was going home to rest for work tomorrow. Which was what he'd be usually be doing at this time of the day. Falcon had stayed back with Ayame -- Ryoma wasn't too concerned about that, as long as he showed up for work the next morning.
Thunder rumbled overhead, catching Ryoma's attention once again. He wasn't as fortunate when he looked up the next time -- large droplets sploshed down on his face, wetting his suit. He frowned and glanced at his watch. Where was Rouge? He was getting drenched by the minute, and at this rate, he'd catch a cold even before getting in an apology.
Damn. Damn bloody hell!
Rouge backed away from the torrent of water that greeted her the moment she opened the rear exit, giving herself a moment to gather her wits. The weather forecast said that there'd be no rain today. Damnit. She rolled her eyes, mentally mapping the quickest route home. With a plan in mind, she slipped her shoes off and carried them by hand, stepping into the rain before she could second-guess herself. Why had she decided to take half a day off today, of all days?
A wince twisted her features when her feet sunk into the icy puddle of water at the doorstep. Rouge cursed herself for not bringing an umbrella, hurriedly shutting the back door of the club before the other dancers sent her dirty looks for letting the rain in.
Within moments, the pelting raindrops had her completely soaked and shivering. She quickened her footsteps in the dark alley, her gaze darting to shadowy corners to ascertain that it would be safe for her passage. She sneezed then, and could have sworn that a shadow moved at the sound. Rouge stilled, fear snaking thin tendrils around her heart. Maybe it would have been a better idea to wait for the patrolling bouncer.
She made to turn towards the main street, where the lights were. But scarcely had she taken a step when the shadow pulled out of a side alley, heading straight for her. The bulk of the silhouette told her that it was a male, one stronger than she was. Rouge cursed. Felt her limbs lock in panic. Her clothes molded to her skin and were scant help to her protection. She wrenched a foot free, spinning away towards the other exit of the alley.
The man grabbed her arm. She opened her mouth to scream.
"Rouge, it's me, Ryoma."
She froze, blinking once, twice, thrice. The voice had been real. She hadn't imagined that. The loosened grip on her arm was definitely genuine. Slowly, she turned around, expecting to see a hideous face grinning at her with all its deceit. Her heart pounded.
Instead, what she saw was the familiar shape of Ryoma Iwakura's countenance, truthful and harmless, all the way down to his soaked suit. Only then did she allow herself to exhale shakily. "R-Ryoma? You scared me like that!"
"I'm sorry. I-I don't even know why I'm here." He paused when she sneezed again. She waved at him to go on. Gods, her makeup must have run in every direction by now -- perhaps she'd be the hideous monster, not him. Rouge rubbed her chilled arms and stood with him in the rain, wondering at the irony of their situation. "I... well, I just wanted to apologise for treating you so brashly the other day."
It took Rouge a few moments to remember what he was talking about, stunned as she was by his apology. No one apologised in a dark alley in the middle of a downpour at midnight. No one except Ryoma, that was. Rouge realised that she really did like this guy. Even if he was going to turn and flee the next second.
"I was certainly not expecting an apology," she told him mirthfully when she found her voice again. Overwhelmed with her resolved fear and liking for him, Rouge reached up and cupped the nape of his neck, drawing his face down to hers.
Ryoma's lips were soft, if a little cold. But he was far from unresponsive when she brushed her mouth over his, first stiffening under her touch, then relaxing as she nibbled and licked at his bottom lip. She pressed herself into his chest, encouraged by the hitch in his breath the moment she started to suck on his flesh. She nipped at his lips, sliding her mouth back and forth over his, their lips lubricated by saliva and rainwater. Kissing Ryoma, if one-sidedly, was making her forget her circumstances, and fast. There had been more than once when she'd fantasized about this. She traced her tongue over his mouth then, teasing the seam of his lips, purring when he granted her access.
His teeth parted when she licked them. Rouge stroked her fingers lightly along his scalp, venturing deeper into his mouth and finding his tongue. Ryoma uttered a soft noise of surprise, but did not stop her. She teased the tip of his flesh, relishing the sizzle of nerves when he moved to touch her tentatively. She could scent him, taste the alcohol on his tongue. He was temptation that she could not restrain herself from. Rouge moaned softly when she urged his lips wider for a better sample, sliding her tongue firmly against his. Hunger leaked into her veins. She trailed her tongue over his lips and teeth, before dipping back into his mouth, quivering in excitement when he began to return the kiss. He licked her tongue, hesitantly probing into her mouth. She welcomed him with urgent strokes, her body heating up in this damnable rain. He was stirring against her, too, and it roused her to feel his reaction.
Ryoma pulled away quite suddenly, breathing hard, passing a hand over his face. "S-sorry about that. I don't know what I was doing."
She tried to catch her breath as she watched him in the half-darkness, struggling to comprehend his words after how much the kiss had distracted her. "I, um, I guess I should be going now, huh?"
Rouge could've kicked herself right as the words left her mouth. She didn't want to be leaving, not when he could promise so much more. But she had already blown her chance, she reminded herself, turning away from the man.
"Wait, where do you think you're going in this rain?" Ryoma blurted just as she took a step towards the exit.
"Home, of course." She didn't dare to hope for more than a final conversation. It was cold without him.
"But this weather isn't fit for travelling in!" Ryoma protested. "And you don't even have an umbrella."
"Neither do you." Her lips quirked when he was caught speechless. "Besides, I live just off Sunset Avenue. It isn't too long a walk."
"Sunset Avenue?" Ryoma squawked. "That may be fine if it isn't raining. You'll catch a cold walking all the way there in this downpour."
She shrugged and sneezed. "I might already have caught a cold, anyway."
"I..." Rouge waited in mild amusement as Ryoma kept her standing in the freezing rain. "Look, you could stay over at my place for tonight. Have a hot shower or something."
"Really?" She perked at the mention of a warm shower. Her fingers were starting to go numb in this rain.
"Yes. Just no... funny business." Ryoma glanced at her in warning.
She winked at him, not quite believing that her luck had changed so drastically. "Lead the way, Mr Iwakura."
------
Part: ARC 1, Part 3
Author: Aquarius Galuxy
Fandom: Power Stone
Pairing: Rouge/Ryoma
Genre: Romance/Erotica/Friendship/AU
Rating: varies from PG to NC-17
Word count: 5,461
Summary: Sales representative Ryoma Iwakura's life careens off course when a business deal brings him to a hostess bar, and into the company of hostess and strip club dancer Rouge. A spark of attraction ignites between them, one Ryoma tries to deny. Despite his reservations, he embarks on a scandalous friendship with Rouge that questions his plans for the future.
Author's Notes: Wow, this chapter took forever, and countless edits due to me being on a job and sick. Prompts are from 10_prompts.
#9 (6:2 Over)
Ayame literally bounced when Rouge made her way into the crowded backroom and joined her and Cassie in their corner, her wooden clogs clacking noisily against the tiled floor. "How'd it go, Rouge? You've gotta tell us every juicy detail about last night, you hear?"
Cassie chuckled, tucking her jacket into her bag. "Give the girl some breathing space, Ayame. She's just got here!" The blue-haired hostess slanted a meaningful look at her dancer friend. "But that doesn't mean that you can leave me out, Chica. Which base did you hit?"
Rouge set her satchel down and sighed exasperatedly at them, pausing for a moment to catch her breath. The sting from Ryoma's sudden departure sharpened with their expectant faces. "You're both hopeless."
"That's why we're friends, right?" Ayame laughed, her inky eyes sparkling. "So, down to business. How far did you get with Mr Iwakura?"
'I..." Rouge had the decency to blush at the torrid scene that was still fresh in her mind. She busied herself with shrugging her sweater off. "Well, to be honest, we didn't follow the order of the bases."
"What, you shagged him first?" Cassie raised an elegantly-shaped eyebrow and grinned smugly, pulling her cosmetic kit out. "Looks like you had a good time."
"Yes and no. To having a good time, that is," Rouge added quickly. She remembered Ryoma's abrupt withdrawal, his denial of her pleasure that left her frustrated. Over the night, she'd come to terms with the fact that she'd probably destroyed Ryoma's impression of her. It didn't mean that she had to like it, though.
"Why the long face?" Ayame stared at her worriedly. "Did he mistreat you? If he did, I'll--"
"No, he didn't," the chocolate-haired hostess cut in before she could suggest a violent form of murder. Picturing Ryoma in gory scenes was far from appealing. "I pushed him too far."
"What did you do?" Cassie stopped retouching her makeup to look at Rouge. "I doubt it was rape."
"I gave him a lapdance in the nude." Rouge shrugged nonchalantly and ignored the nagging sense of loss in her chest, keeping her gaze on the low table. The deep flush on his cheeks was stark in her mind. Did Ryoma know how damn sexy he was? She'd wanted to have him right then and there.
"And did he like that?" Ayame probed cautiously, twisting her hair into a traditional Moonland bun. Rouge occasionally wished her hair was short enough to do the same.
"Very much." A smile made its way onto Rouge's lips. The expression on his face had been tainted with lust, even if he did try to suppress it. And his cock felt so good behind his pants that she'd have loved to see -- and touch -- it in its entirety. She swallowed.
"Earth to Rouge," Ayame sang, elbowing her lightly in the ribs. She blinked out of her thoughts and looked back at them sheepishly.
"As I was asking--" Cassie paused to look pointedly at her. "--How exactly did you know he was interested? Juicy details, girlfriend."
Rouge blushed at the question, hardly surprised at their audacity. "You're insufferable, Cassie." At their amused gazes, she reluctantly gave in. "Okay, okay! I ground into him. He was hard."
The pair exchanged glances and giggled. Rouge rolled her eyes, her cheeks hot. Ayame cast her a cheeky grin. "Was he big?"
"As far as I could tell, yes." Rouge tried to frown at her, albeit unsuccessfully. It wasn't as if the girls hadn't done it before. In fact, the teasing was characteristic of their friendship.
"Bet you'd have gone at it with him on the spot." Cassie lifted her eyebrows and glanced conspiratorially at her.
"Hell yes I would." Rouge allowed herself one last fantasy before sobering. "But anyway, it's all over now. I half suspect that he doesn't trust himself any more than he does me." At their looks of surprise, she continued, "It looked as if he was enjoying what I did for the most part, right up 'til before he pushed me away."
"Damn, that's a pity," Cassie muttered in sympathy, reaching over to give Rouge a quick hug.
"Your shift is starting, girls!" the Madam stuck her head through the door and hollered over the chatter of the hostesses. All conversation in the room halted. Rouge, Cassie and Ayame turned towards their supervisor at the same moment, waiting until she left.
"Life happens. I'll deal." Rouge managed a small smile at her friends, checking her appearance in a mirror before slinging her arms over their shoulders. Ryoma was a man she had a crush on, but Ayame and Cassie would be around no matter what happened. "Besides, I still have you girls with me."
---
#10 (7:2 Long distance)
Ryoma slouched into the sofa, staring blankly at the cookery show that had just begun on TV. It was quiet in the apartment for a change. Falcon had gone on one of his night-long excursions -- 'clubbing', he called it -- and he didn't expect to see his friend 'til the following morning. (Never mind that it was still a work day.) The blond had invited Ryoma along on his fun, but there was no way that he was going to go anywhere with girls and alcohol again.
Especially if Rouge was involved.
He scowled. It was greatly annoying that his body had betrayed him the previous night. There had been so many girls at the club -- for some reason, those hormones of his had decided that it would do him good to entertain thoughts of a particular dancer naked. Hell, he hadn't even wanted the lapdance. Rouge didn't feel good. (Yes, yes she did.) And he didn't like that she could bring him so close just by dancing and grinding in his lap. The utter lack of control she induced threw him off-kilter like few others had done. Ryoma inhaled deeply.
Back in Moonland, his parents were awaiting his return. He was to have an arranged marriage with some girl in his hometown when his twenty-fourth birthday came along. It'd be a short, simple wedding to a girl of virtue. If he fooled around with Rouge now, however, he'd just be failing both his parents and his future wife.
No, what he had to do was concentrate on his work here, and save enough so that he could afford to raise a family of his own back home. It was just the way things were -- the men found employment for long periods overseas, and the womenfolk stayed home to raise their children. He'd be a wealthy man by the time he settled in Moonland for good.
Ryoma sighed and plastered his hand over his face, leaning his head back against the couch. Rouge didn't belong anywhere in that plan he'd worked out. It didn't even matter that her interest would be nice in a wife he didn't know. His parents would be the ones doing the selection, and he'd trust them on their choice. All he wanted was a peaceful, stable life at the end of the day.
When he thought about her smile again, though, his stomach jolted. Ryoma groaned and cursed himself. Despite him trying to rid his mind of her, she still clung on, haunting him like a trace of lilies in the summer breeze.
He cast his gaze around, looking for a distraction. One came in the decisive hands of the wall clock, which announced that he was due to leave for his kendo training soon. Ryoma flicked the TV off and thanked his stars for the momentary escape.
After all, he wasn't infatuated with the dancer called Rouge. It was just a passing phase.
On the other side of town some hours later, Rouge tossed and turned in bed, watching the burgeoning rays of dawn chase the night sky away. It occurred to her that the drawn curtains would disrupt her slumber only after some minutes. Wearily, she crawled out from between the sheets, padding over to the window to shut the offending drapery. Pedestrians were starting to emerge on the streets below, those who worked in the harsher trades.
A written note on her bedside table caught her eye shortly before she wriggled beneath the covers again. At the very least, the spot she'd just vacated was still warm. Rouge stared up at the ceiling, wishing fleetingly that there was more money to spare for the radiator, before she recalled the contents of the memo.
It was a short, simple message from her roommate, Mindhi. Their landlord had just collected their rent earlier in the day. That, in itself, was not something they'd usually worry about; this time, however, their rental for the month had been raised, and she'd had to fork out her remaining cash to pay for the increase that Mindhi couldn't afford. There was just enough left for food and some daily necessities now. How they'd manage to make it through the next month was beyond her.
Shivering, Rouge turned over in bed, trying to forget the worry that Mindhi's note wrought in her stomach. The dismal news had plagued her for hours, quickening her pulse with anxiety. She'd been losing sleep over it for the past week, and only recently had she discovered a temporary salve to her stress.
Ryoma didn't know how essential he was to her sanity.
The dancer took deep, steadying breaths to calm herself, filling her attention with the raven-haired sales representative. He had been so tempting the night before, desire darkening his intense gaze. His cologne had smelled good; his scent teased her interest, drew her closer for another sniff. She'd relished the feel of his strong body beneath hers, taut with need and restraint that only made her crave to undo him. He hadn't known that, had he?
Ryoma's arousal had been so palpable that she'd been unable to keep her hands off him, like an alcoholic granted his first sip after abstaining for months. And gods, he had been so hard. She'd have loved to stroke him through his pants, feel just how large he was, before freeing that thick shaft from its confines.
Just thinking about it had heat gathering in her middle, slowly easing the knots of tension throughout her body. Rouge savoured the growing tightness in her loins, that repelled the cold seeping through her blankets.
If she could, she would have pressed her hand into his trousers first, just to test his urge. Shock and need would have mingled in his eyes. There was something about his holding back that enticed her, his ill-hidden want echoing hers. Would he moan if she squeezed him then, or would she have to commit her tongue to his flesh before he surrendered?
Rouge imagined his groan of pleasure, feeling a familiar throb start between her legs. The demands of her life had lifted from her conscience for now. She slipped a hand down to her sex, gasping as she lost herself in thoughts of Ryoma.
---
#11 (3:10 Afraid)
"I said, I'm not going."
"For goodness's sake, Ryoma, just this once. Please?" Falcon rummaged through the set of drawers that had become his temporary closet, looking for the bowtie he knew was in there somewhere. It was fortunate that his old friend had been living alone when he was evicted. Squeezing into an apartment with Ryoma proved to benefit them both, even if it came with its downsides.
"I've been to that hellish place once, and that's enough to last me a lifetime." Ryoma sent him a dark glare over the half-polished blade of his bamboo sword.
"Come with me and make it two lifetimes. Then I won't bother you till the life after. Does that sound good or what?" Falcon cajoled, looking up from the drawers and waggling his eyebrows. In fact, that was about the best proposition he'd made in a while. He felt a little proud of himself for it.
"I don't believe in having multiple lives, Falcon." Ryoma jabbed a rag into his can of polish, before shining his weapon with a vengeance.
It was amusing to tease the man. Falcon neglected to mention that he got a kick out of baiting him, instead smothering a grin and turning back to his stashed clothes. "You're just afraid of meeting Rouge again."
Ryoma's stare bore into the back of his skull. He was stubborn, and not in a good way. Perhaps Rouge liked teasing a reaction out of him as well. (A different sort of reaction, of course.) Falcon snickered. Ryoma stared suspiciously at him. "I am not afraid of anyone."
"Yeah, yeah. Says the man who fled just because of a little grope." And honestly, how much of him could Rouge have touched? Falcon toyed with the idea of Ryoma losing his chastity. The expression on his face would be hilarious. Or sexy. Either way, the man was built to have sex. He just didn't want to admit it.
There was a lengthy pause. When he next looked up, Ryoma's cheeks were awash with scarlet. "It wasn't just a 'little' grope," he muttered so lowly that Falcon almost couldn't catch his words.
"It wasn't?" He gaped at Ryoma in surprise. Where was it that he went- Oh. Venus. The service there was certainly excellent. Falcon smirked. Ryoma must have been appalled by that place, although he was certain that it wasn't the quality of dancers that had put the man off. "What's that blush for, buddy?"
If anything, Ryoma reddened further and finally turned away. Falcon chuckled to himself. He had a fairly good idea of what might have happened, and he wished fervently that he could've seen Ryoma's countenance then.
"It's nothing." Ryoma sent him a sullen stare to shut him up.
Falcon snorted. The Moonlander couldn't lie if his life depended on it. When would he realise that? He propped himself on the open drawer, looking idly at his friend. "Yeah, right. I know you, buddy. You wouldn't be avoiding the place like the plague unless you were afraid of how you'd react towards Rouge. And she gives you some Serious Reactions, dude."
"That's not the case," Ryoma persisted, passing his rag over his gleaming sword. Falcon doubted that it was any less reflective than a mirror, now.
"Then prove it." He grinned crookedly, turning back to the drawer when he glimpsed the loop of his bowtie.
"No."
Falcon exhaled in sheer annoyance, throwing his hands into the air, tie forgotten. Throughout the years he'd known Ryoma, this was the first time his buddy was being so difficult. "Whatever. I'm just going to take it that you're afraid of your crush on Rouge. That's all there is to it."
"I am not!" Ryoma sputtered, growling under his breath. "Just give it up already--"
"Be a man, Ryoma. Come to the hostess club with me and prove yourself." Falcon rolled his eyes, snatching his bowtie from the drawer lest he lost it to its depths again. "Even if she were there, she wouldn't get in more than a tiny feel when I'm around. There's nothing to squeal about."
He watched as Ryoma closed his eyes and brought his idea into solemn consideration, hiding a smile. Convincing the man of something he wanted was so easy when he knew which buttons would yield the fastest results. After another long-drawn pause, Ryoma stirred from his seat on the floor. "Fine, I'll agree to go. But you owe me one, Falcon."
Falcon leapt to his feet in a cheer, wincing when his shin bumped into the drawer. "You'd be the one owing me by the time this is over, Ryoma."
---
#12 (8:5 Disappointed)
The Royal Hostess Club was exactly as Ryoma remembered it from a week ago. Smooth strains of music entertained them while the bouncer checked their ID's, doing little to calm his taut nerves. Rouge was in the club somewhere, and knowing that he'd see that smile of hers again sent a little bubble of excitement welling up in his middle. No, he was not looking forward to meeting her. He didn't want to remember her scent (it was floral and musky) and he definitely did not want to feel how warm and pliant she was again.
Falcon lifted one straw-coloured eyebrow at him when he remained standing by the bouncer in a daze. He blinked his thoughts away awkwardly, following his friend as the plump lady from before led them to a smaller booth this time.
"How may I help you, sirs?" she asked in a low, oiled tone after they'd taken their seats. Ryoma discreetly avoided the plunging neckline of her red sequined dress. But her black curls and too-red lips didn't make for much of a sight, either. "A hostess for each of you to start off, perhaps?"
"Well, we'd like the hostesses we got when we visited with Mr Gunrock the other day--" Falcon rubbed his nose thoughtfully. The woman's eyes brightened with recognition. "Ayame, I think her name was. And Rouge."
Ryoma narrowed his gaze at Falcon. He didn't require Rouge to be this close the whole night. The blond ignored him. Without quite knowing why, he glanced around the club, doing a cursory scan for the mocha-toned dancer. Maybe she was in the backroom.
"Oh, Rouge." There was a slight downward inflection in the lady's speech that drew both men's attentions, as if ill tidings had befallen the dancer. Ryoma found himself hoping that she hadn't been laid off. "I'm sorry to inform you that she isn't on duty today, gentlemen."
Falcon pouted. Ryoma stared blankly at her, torn between relief and a weird sense of disappointment. He shouldn't be upset that she wasn't around. The minx was more trouble than she was worth. But remembering how easily she had got him to open up the very first time made him think that he might have given her less credit than she deserved. She hadn't meant him any harm.
No, she would bed him without so much as asking. Rouge was a poison he wouldn't be wary of until it was too late.
Ryoma blinked in comprehension when the woman suggested Cassie accompany them instead. He vaguely recalled a flash of blue and nodded. Falcon mirrored his reaction, tailing her with his gaze until she retreated. Not having to spend the next few hours beside Rouge set Ryoma at great ease.
"That sucks, man."
"I'd think it a blessing," he retorted, folding his arms as he leaned back into the waxed leather seat. If he concentrated hard enough, he could tune out the presence of these hostess girls. The two who would be joining them would not pose as much a distraction as Rouge did.
"Heya, guys!" a familiar melodic voice chirped, seconds ahead of the clacking of traditional clogs. Ayame, with her inky hair in her usual bun, made her appearance first, waving lightly at them. Ryoma glanced at her blue butterfly-print kimono and thought of home. "Mr Falcon and Mr Iwakura, am I right?"
"Call me Falcon and that old grouch over there, Ryoma." The blond grinned, patting the seat next to him. Ryoma averted his eyes when his roommate slipped his arm around her waist, grinning a welcome at her. "Good to see you again, Ayame."
"We apologise that Rouge isn't able to join us today." Cassie dipped in a curtsy and took a seat beside Ryoma, smiling warmly at him. He nodded back stiffly. Unlike a week ago, she was dressed in a white thigh-high number this evening. "You do still remember my name, don't you, Ryoma?"
"You're Cassie," he offered, watching as she grinned in delight. He wasn't one to incite false hope, however, so he added as an afterthought, "I heard Falcon mention it."
She laughed. "Oh, you wet blanket!" He shrugged. But then Cassie sobered, and murmured almost contemplatively, "Maybe that's why Rouge was so interested in you."
He stared at her, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks at the mention of him and Rouge in the same sentence. Why was she haunting him even without being here? "I don't know what you're talking about."
Falcon and Ayame did, however. They perked up at the mention of the absent dancer, each giving Ryoma a surreptitious glance. He frowned at them. The platter with warm towels arrived then, and he busied himself with wiping his hands and face. When Cassie accidentally brushed his fingers, there was no jump in his pulse; their eyes did not meet on instinct. He wasn't attracted to every other girl, then. Just Rouge. Somehow, that didn't sound much more comforting.
"Hey, did you just say that Rouge is interested in Ryoma here?" Falcon raised his eyebrows and grinned, turning to Cassie. Ryoma blushed and pretended not to have heard him. Idle gossip was really not his thing, even if it did concern the particular woman his body desired.
"Yeah, she was interested in him," Ayame replied on the blue-haired hostess's behalf, sighing with a trace of dejection. She leaned into Falcon and waved a runner over.
"'Was'?" he parroted in confusion, pausing when their drink orders were taken. "You mean, she's no longer after him?" He slid an accusatory glance towards Ryoma.
"What?" Ryoma frowned, folding his arms defensively. "That's none of my business." It stung a little, knowing that he did still want her on some primal level.
"The poor dear is convinced that he's totally put off her now." Cassie clucked her tongue, her cerulean ringlets swaying when she shook her head. "We don't know what she did, but she was really sorry about it the next day. It isn't often that she fancies a man, too."
Ryoma felt the first twinges of guilt emerge in his chest. Come to think of it, he hadn't even treated her nicely before he left. It wasn't so much the woman he had been fleeing as it was his unbidden reactions. There was no way that he was going to further encourage her... but maybe he did owe her an apology.
Cassie, on her part, lay her hand on his arm like she was trained to do. He put up with it to spare her the embarrassment of rejecting her. Her attention brought him a touch of unease, however, a different sort of discomfort from what Rouge gave him.
"That's not true! Ryoma is so into her, trust me." Falcon gave both women a thumbs up, grinning. They returned his smile with some measure of mischief.
"I did not say that," Ryoma snapped, glaring at his old friend. The two girls watched their exchange avidly.
"Yeah, you act it." Falcon smirked. Their drinks arrived then, and the four shared a toast. Ryoma eyed Falcon irritably, cringing when his colleague brightened. "So, tell me more about this Rouge of yours."
He could have shovelled a hole in the ground just to get away from all this.
"Rouge... she's a pretty deep person, seriously speaking." Ayame looked thoughtfully into her drink. "She doesn't tell us everything, but she answers questions."
"And she's loyal." Cassie smiled, swirling her liquor as she ticked the points off her fingers. "Doesn't follow the rules, has a good heart. She's single, too."
"Yeah, unattached," Ayame tacked on, winking suggestively at Ryoma. He flushed and turned away.
"A pretty girl like her, with no boyfriend?" Falcon asked incredulously. It took a couple of moments for the gears to turn in his head. "That is so your call, buddy."
"It is not!" Ryoma frowned at the three of them. Since when had they decided to gang up on him? He wasn't interested in Rouge, and that was final. He didn't need a girlfriend, nor did he need a sex partner. All he wanted to do was apologise to her. Then he'd be free of her for good.
Around him, Falcon, Ayame and Cassie shared knowing looks about something that he knew would not come to pass, not if he could help it.
---
#13 (7:8 Kiss)
The autumn chill wound into the fabric of his suit, pricking goosebumps over his skin. Ryoma cursed his lack of foresight as he stamped his feet, glancing up at the cloud-laden sky. This was starting to be a bad idea. He should never have picked those tidbits of information that Cassie and Ayame had so helpfully let fall.
It was almost quiet here in the back alleys, with just the muffled thumping music emanating through the closed door of Club Venus. A bouncer strolled by occasionally to maintain the security of the establishment. Ryoma kept some yards away from his patrol, and in the shadows, so as to avoid a possible conflict.
He checked his watch again, squinting in the semi-darkness to make out the time. It was a quarter past twelve, roughly when the hostess club girls had mentioned that Rouge would be ending work today. Thinking that he'd meet Rouge for real now sent flutters through his insides.
Ryoma exhaled loudly. Having been standing out in the cold for the better part of two hours, he was starting to question his sanity. More so because Rouge was concerned. He hadn't told anyone of his plan to apologise to her -- all he'd volunteered as an excuse back at the hostess club was that he was going home to rest for work tomorrow. Which was what he'd be usually be doing at this time of the day. Falcon had stayed back with Ayame -- Ryoma wasn't too concerned about that, as long as he showed up for work the next morning.
Thunder rumbled overhead, catching Ryoma's attention once again. He wasn't as fortunate when he looked up the next time -- large droplets sploshed down on his face, wetting his suit. He frowned and glanced at his watch. Where was Rouge? He was getting drenched by the minute, and at this rate, he'd catch a cold even before getting in an apology.
Damn. Damn bloody hell!
Rouge backed away from the torrent of water that greeted her the moment she opened the rear exit, giving herself a moment to gather her wits. The weather forecast said that there'd be no rain today. Damnit. She rolled her eyes, mentally mapping the quickest route home. With a plan in mind, she slipped her shoes off and carried them by hand, stepping into the rain before she could second-guess herself. Why had she decided to take half a day off today, of all days?
A wince twisted her features when her feet sunk into the icy puddle of water at the doorstep. Rouge cursed herself for not bringing an umbrella, hurriedly shutting the back door of the club before the other dancers sent her dirty looks for letting the rain in.
Within moments, the pelting raindrops had her completely soaked and shivering. She quickened her footsteps in the dark alley, her gaze darting to shadowy corners to ascertain that it would be safe for her passage. She sneezed then, and could have sworn that a shadow moved at the sound. Rouge stilled, fear snaking thin tendrils around her heart. Maybe it would have been a better idea to wait for the patrolling bouncer.
She made to turn towards the main street, where the lights were. But scarcely had she taken a step when the shadow pulled out of a side alley, heading straight for her. The bulk of the silhouette told her that it was a male, one stronger than she was. Rouge cursed. Felt her limbs lock in panic. Her clothes molded to her skin and were scant help to her protection. She wrenched a foot free, spinning away towards the other exit of the alley.
The man grabbed her arm. She opened her mouth to scream.
"Rouge, it's me, Ryoma."
She froze, blinking once, twice, thrice. The voice had been real. She hadn't imagined that. The loosened grip on her arm was definitely genuine. Slowly, she turned around, expecting to see a hideous face grinning at her with all its deceit. Her heart pounded.
Instead, what she saw was the familiar shape of Ryoma Iwakura's countenance, truthful and harmless, all the way down to his soaked suit. Only then did she allow herself to exhale shakily. "R-Ryoma? You scared me like that!"
"I'm sorry. I-I don't even know why I'm here." He paused when she sneezed again. She waved at him to go on. Gods, her makeup must have run in every direction by now -- perhaps she'd be the hideous monster, not him. Rouge rubbed her chilled arms and stood with him in the rain, wondering at the irony of their situation. "I... well, I just wanted to apologise for treating you so brashly the other day."
It took Rouge a few moments to remember what he was talking about, stunned as she was by his apology. No one apologised in a dark alley in the middle of a downpour at midnight. No one except Ryoma, that was. Rouge realised that she really did like this guy. Even if he was going to turn and flee the next second.
"I was certainly not expecting an apology," she told him mirthfully when she found her voice again. Overwhelmed with her resolved fear and liking for him, Rouge reached up and cupped the nape of his neck, drawing his face down to hers.
Ryoma's lips were soft, if a little cold. But he was far from unresponsive when she brushed her mouth over his, first stiffening under her touch, then relaxing as she nibbled and licked at his bottom lip. She pressed herself into his chest, encouraged by the hitch in his breath the moment she started to suck on his flesh. She nipped at his lips, sliding her mouth back and forth over his, their lips lubricated by saliva and rainwater. Kissing Ryoma, if one-sidedly, was making her forget her circumstances, and fast. There had been more than once when she'd fantasized about this. She traced her tongue over his mouth then, teasing the seam of his lips, purring when he granted her access.
His teeth parted when she licked them. Rouge stroked her fingers lightly along his scalp, venturing deeper into his mouth and finding his tongue. Ryoma uttered a soft noise of surprise, but did not stop her. She teased the tip of his flesh, relishing the sizzle of nerves when he moved to touch her tentatively. She could scent him, taste the alcohol on his tongue. He was temptation that she could not restrain herself from. Rouge moaned softly when she urged his lips wider for a better sample, sliding her tongue firmly against his. Hunger leaked into her veins. She trailed her tongue over his lips and teeth, before dipping back into his mouth, quivering in excitement when he began to return the kiss. He licked her tongue, hesitantly probing into her mouth. She welcomed him with urgent strokes, her body heating up in this damnable rain. He was stirring against her, too, and it roused her to feel his reaction.
Ryoma pulled away quite suddenly, breathing hard, passing a hand over his face. "S-sorry about that. I don't know what I was doing."
She tried to catch her breath as she watched him in the half-darkness, struggling to comprehend his words after how much the kiss had distracted her. "I, um, I guess I should be going now, huh?"
Rouge could've kicked herself right as the words left her mouth. She didn't want to be leaving, not when he could promise so much more. But she had already blown her chance, she reminded herself, turning away from the man.
"Wait, where do you think you're going in this rain?" Ryoma blurted just as she took a step towards the exit.
"Home, of course." She didn't dare to hope for more than a final conversation. It was cold without him.
"But this weather isn't fit for travelling in!" Ryoma protested. "And you don't even have an umbrella."
"Neither do you." Her lips quirked when he was caught speechless. "Besides, I live just off Sunset Avenue. It isn't too long a walk."
"Sunset Avenue?" Ryoma squawked. "That may be fine if it isn't raining. You'll catch a cold walking all the way there in this downpour."
She shrugged and sneezed. "I might already have caught a cold, anyway."
"I..." Rouge waited in mild amusement as Ryoma kept her standing in the freezing rain. "Look, you could stay over at my place for tonight. Have a hot shower or something."
"Really?" She perked at the mention of a warm shower. Her fingers were starting to go numb in this rain.
"Yes. Just no... funny business." Ryoma glanced at her in warning.
She winked at him, not quite believing that her luck had changed so drastically. "Lead the way, Mr Iwakura."
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