#leftover kyo moments that were missed

[furubazerochan]

✩ Fruits Basket 2001 ✩

Final Kyo compilation video — from Fruits Basket 2001 (⸝⸝⸝^ヮ^⸝⸝⸝)

[yearoftheratbastard]

forbidden fruit

summary:  He watches, jaw set, as Tohru scribbles some numbers across the paper, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger absentmindedly, and tries not to picture how it would look wrapped around his hand, her neck arched backwards in pleasure. He decides he cannot blame Adam for the bite that expelled him from Eden.

rating:  explicit (18+)

AO3 link

The hardest part of being a junishi, other than the junishi that he must be, is the limitations one is forced to accept. As a child it was easier to come to terms with-- Kazuma, after all, could still be affectionate with him, and he attended boy’s schools for most of his life. The friends he did make would tackle him and wrestle with him without consequence.

It was at twelve years old, when he first became interested in the girls who attended the sister school down the road, that he realized the magnitude of the curse. It was not as if the unseen forces that bound his soul to the cat’s were able to differentiate between hugging and other kinds of contact.

+

Kyo Sohma does not consider himself impulsive. Others may say differently-- Kazuma and his school teachers come to mind-- but he personally prides himself on his ability to stifle his most base urges. He has, after all, managed to share a home with that damn rat for nearly a year without strangling him.

Tohru Honda, however, won’t stop testing his resolve.

+

He notices her the moment he meets her. He doesn’t love her yet-- in fact, he almost certainly resents her-- but that fact does not stop him from noticing her. She’s cute , he thinks in passing, his eyes straying from Yuki’s bored expression to the girl behind him, dusted in pieces of drywall from the ceiling above. From that moment onward, the sentiment worms it’s way into his brain, surfacing at the most inconvenient of times— at night, when he can’t sleep, or during a particularly dull moment of class. Tohru Honda is cute.

+

He discovers, as he watches her bend down to build lopsided sandcastles, her tight pink swimsuit riding up, his eyes lingering on the newly-exposed gentle curve where her thighs meet her bottom, that it is not enough to accept that he loves her. Kyo cannot pull his eyes from her thighs, pressed together in that careful way they always are when exposed, dusted with sand.

He wants to run his hands along the pale smoothness of her legs, to part them, to know her in ways he never has. He’d like to press her against the sand and give into his more animal instincts, to run his mouth over her tiny breasts, to flick his tongue against her closely-guarded inner thighs, to feel the grit of those rogue grains of sand against his teeth.

“Whatcha looking at?” Haru’s teasing tone pulls his attention from Tohru’s petite frame, and Kyo feels a hot blush rise to the tips of his ears. His cousin grins at him as if he knows, and Kyo lands a firm punch on his arm.

“Shut up, wouldya?”

+

It seems that every damn thing she does these days leaves him aching for her. The way she leans over the kitchen counter when checking a recipe makes him want to bend her forward and knock the cookbook to the floor; the way her damp uniform clings to her chest makes him want to rip her top off with his teeth and fuck her through the perfect pleats of that temptingly short skirt, right there on the sidewalk; the perfect way her hand fits in his makes him wonder how it might fit around other appendages.

He casts a glance at the closed door, light from the hallway filtering in from the crack beneath it. Momiji is supposed to share the room with him, but he’s spent most nights of the vacation in Tohru’s room, curled up next to her and Kisa, leaving Kyo with no roommate. He can’t help but think what he’d do if it were him instead of Momiji in that room-- kick Kisa out, for one. Probably wouldn’t even be subtle about it. And then, when the door was firmly shut behind her, he’d roll over to Tohru and--

Kyp rubs one out under the covers, grunting into his pillow. After he finishes, he cleans himself up in the adjoining bathroom, splashing cold water on his face in a vain attempt to chase the bright red flush from his ears and cheeks.

He’s not sure what it is he’s doing, allowing himself to fantasize about her like this. It’s bad enough to love her, but to want her-- to need her, the way that he does, feels shameful. Monstrous, even. Like he is guilty of yet another unforgivable sin.

+

At first, when they return back to Shigure’s house, it’s easy for him to ignore her. Wake up early and go for long runs, spend his days at the dojo training, and come home after the sun has set to eat leftovers from the fridge, pretending not to read the notes Tohru leaves taped to the top, the ones that make his heart beat faster in their simple kindness.

I missed you at dinner, Kyo! Please let me know what you think of the curry!

When school starts again, he is forced back into close proximity with her, walking to and from classes alone, Yuki held up in student government meetings. She grabs his hand occasionally, pulling him ahead at crosswalks or stopping to point out a frog in a gutter, giggling at his lukewarm reactions as she always does. The way she says his name-- with unbridled excitement, the kind that only a year ago would have scared him off-- makes him wonder how he can both love someone so much. And the way she kneels down, on both knees, to carefully rescue the frog from his drainpipe prison, makes him wonder how he can possibly keep resisting his impulses.

+

He makes the mistake of venting his frustrations to Haru. They’re seated on the floor of his bedroom, controllers in hand, when he blurts it out. He half expects Haru to laugh, but his cousin doesn’t even bat an eye-- doesn’t even look away from the screen. “So that’s why you agreed to come over today? Because you’re horny for Honda? Too scared to go home?” His voice is as montone as ever.

The bluntness of his question causes Kyo’s ears to burn and his knuckles to turn white as he tightens his grip on the controller. “Jeez, Haru, thanks for being so understanding.”

“Hm.” Haru presses a series of buttons, completing a combo that sends Kyo’s character flying off the edge of the screen. “I win again.”`

“So what? No advice for me?”

Haru turns to look at Kyo, his expression flat. “I thought you just wanted to vent.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

Haru blinks slowly before turning his attention back to the television screen, selecting the option to begin a new round. “Y’know, I’m fairly sure mouth stuff doesn’t count,” he says casually as the on-screen clock begins to count down,  “for the curse or whatever.”

Kyo resists the urge to drag his cousin by his hair and shake him around. “That’s not what I meant by advice, asshole.”

“I know.”

It’s not that Kyo hasn't thought about what sort of things would and wouldn’t trigger the curse-- it’s quite the opposite. His internet history reflects that, auto-completing to phrases like “petite brunette schoolgirl fucked from behind” and “brunette blowjob” with a frequency that forces him to clear his cookies on a weekly basis. Tohru once borrowed his laptop briefly to look up a recipe and he held his breath the entire time.

Haru’s avatar lands another K.O., and he pauses the game to look at Kyo earnestly. “I’m just saying. You have options.”

+

She asks him to help her study. It’s the kind of thing she’d usually ask Yuki to do, but the rat is hardly around these days, and Kyo has decent grades, if not nearly the patience of his cousin. They sit at the kitchen table, papers and books spread before them, and she leans across the table to check his work, her arm brushing against his in a way that gives him goosebumps.

“Kyo-kun,” he starts, and she lets out a small breath of surprise, “I’m sorry! I was just wondering if you could show me how you found the answer to this equation.”

“I-” he recollects himself, blushing a little, “Yeah, here.” He breaks the equation down into smaller parts, and she nods in understanding.

Temptation, he supposes, is the root of mankind’s original sin. The fruit of knowledge would have remained whole and uneaten without it. He watches, jaw set, as Tohru scribbles some numbers across the paper, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger absentmindedly, and tries not to picture how it would look wrapped around his hand, her neck arched backwards in pleasure. He decides he cannot blame Adam for the bite that expelled him from Eden.