You're not sure where to stare; Sengoku's expectant and pleased-with-himself expression, or the paper he'd handed to you with your next mission's details.
A band of smugglers had been running black market weapons and ill-harvested luxury items in the area, and the World Government needed to figure out where their base of operations lay. Three islands in that region of the sea were possible locations, given the smugglers' frequent sightings around or nearby, and a two-man team of marines would be dispatched to each one under some false cover. A simple recon. Get in, attempt to locate the hideout, find out what details you could about their operations, and get out. Nothing you hadn't done a dozen times before.
It wouldn't even be the first time you'd gone in with a cover story. Nothing new, and certainly nothing hard for you to pull off. Words failed you, however, when you noticed a few key details of your cover further down on the page.
Rosinante, standing beside you and gazing intensely at the same briefing document you had also received, finally glanced up at your commanding officer with raised brows and a flustered stutter.
"A...couple's getaway, s-sir?"
"That's correct." The man in charge gave a slow nod, eyes closing, before opening them and peering at you both with a patience practiced over years of service. "The island is a known vacation spot; resorts, spas, beaches, and thrill recreation. Quite beautiful, I hear. This time of year, there will be hundreds arriving to spend a few days relaxing from their typical lives. Posing as a couple enjoying yourselves on a getaway trip, exploring a new island with all manner of things to do, will certainly provide you with credible cover if anyone sees you snooping around where you shouldn't. Wouldn't you agree?"
You had to admit, he had a point. "Yes, sir."
Sengoku, now seeming to sense some sort of...hesitation between you and your companion, leaned back in his chair and slotted his fingers together in front of him on his desk. "Is there a problem?"
Rosinante was quick to shake his head. "No, just..." He searched for the right words, swallowing thickly. "...just unexpected, is all."
You meet Sengoku's gaze, who looked at you for your own response. It was hardly prudent to disclose that sending you with Rosinante in particular, under this pretense, was stirring many feelings in you that were carefully tucked away and hidden. Flashes of possibilities in the days to come had you subtly shifting your feet.
Rosinante was your trusted companion, years of experience together saving each other's lives would do that. It was hardly surprising to realize you'd grown to care for him more than you perhaps should over all that time.
Realizing you hadn't responded, you flash a little smile in Sengoku's direction, somehow managing to make it not appear as strained as you felt. "No, sir. I've never been put under cover needing to fake a relationship with someone else is all."
"I understand. This cover would require the both of you to...blur some professional lines, as it were." He gave a sympathetic sigh. "It's not something I ask lightly. You and Rosinante work well together, trust each other fully, and communicate effectively. Given the circumstances, and your dynamic between each other, I believe you're my best shot at infiltrating the island without raising suspicion from the smugglers, if they happen to be operating there."
High praise from the Fleet Admiral. Pride swells within you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rosinante smile as well, and then glance at you to meet your own.
"Thank you, sir."
"Any other objections?" Both of you remain silent, so he continues.
"One week should give you sufficient time to see most of the island and gather what information you can." The bearded man continued, reaching into his drawer to pull out more paperwork, handing each of you a small stack. "Lodging and meals have been arranged for the duration of your mission. In keeping with your cover as a couple, it is, unfortunately, a single-bed suite. I trust you'll work something out in that regard."
Oh dear.
"Yes, sir." You both respond simultaneously, and you desperately hope that the rising heat in your face doesn't show.
"It would be suspicious if you did not partake in any of the recreation the island had to offer while you are there, so consider any of the activities and amenities provided as a means to blend in with the other vacation-goers. I shouldn't need to say this, but," He frowned then, staring at the two of you in warning, "don't get distracted."
"Yes, sir." Two voices echo.
Eyes flicking between the two of you, he eases up in his chair and nods satisfactorily. "Any questions about what must be done?"
"No, sir."
Nodding, he gave you both a confident smile and stood from his seat, the both of you only a moment behind him. "Then see to the docks to board your ship. You leave at once."
The resort was just as Sengoku had described. Beautiful.
A balanced mix of nature and civilization. The many-storied building that rose above the beach and the surrounding trees was pastel-yellow in color, and sporting a large mural of a palm tree on one side. You'd think the salty sea air would have faded the colors long ago, but it was just as vibrant as the day it had been painted.
From your perch against the boat's railing, smoothly sailing closer to the island's docks, you could see many beach-goers playing and relaxing in the golden sand that spanned the shore. A few brave souls dotted the waters on paddle boards and surfboards, waiting for the next big wave.
Half of the island was covered in vibrantly green foliage and palm trees, providing shade and hideaways for romanic encounters with some semblance of privacy.
If you'd been on an actual vacation, this was certainly a destination you'd have considered.
Several couples stepped off the charter boat alongside you and Rosinante, meandering their way down the boardwalk that lead to your accommodations for the week. They'd been a chatty bunch as you'd made your journey here. Luckily, your cover stories had been decided upon long before you'd boarded the charter, and so answering their basic questions about where you were coming from and the usual small talk had been easy enough to navigate without arriving suspicions.
Trying not to look too uncomfortable in your tank top, shorts, and flip flops that was nothing at all like your typical service uniform, bulky luggage bags in hand, you and Rosinante stopped and took in your surroundings, eyes peeled for any sort of sign that not all was as it seemed.
Now that you were on the island with a better view up close, you could see several straw-topped huts peeking out from the palm trees, some tucked away for privacy and some dotting the very top shoreline. They featured stylized canvas drapes that could be pulled apart to view the beach and the sea beyond it, or drawn to shield the occupants from prying eyes.
Further down the beach was a bar, two tenders mixing and servings drinks that looked colorful and likely deceptively potent. A number of beach-goers were lounged on bamboo chairs and sipping on one cocktail or another at their leisure, complete with floppy hats and seemingly no cares in the world.
No shady characters or out-of-place buildings one wouldn't normally find on a resort. So far, no evident signs of trouble in paradise, but that could change quickly, you knew.
"Y/N." Hearing Rosinante mutter, you glance in his direction and catch his meaningful look at your hand. A sympathetic smile graces his face. You swallowed down the little jolt of feeling that lumped in your throat.
"Oh, right..." Quickly, you place your free hand in his, linking fingers together. Standing there gawking with an analytical gaze at the island wouldn't fit your cover, and so you adopt a much more carefree expression, banishing the frown of concentration that had settled there, and let your blond partner guide you towards the resort further down the way.
The warmth of his hand in yours is not lost on you, but with a job to do, the feelings are stamped down enough to focus on your surroundings instead of the spike of happiness that grows in your chest. As if sensing your conflicting, his squeezes yours, whether a reminder to appear natural or as a way to try comforting you, you'd never guess.
Don't fool yourself, this is just a cover, you think to yourself. As much as you wish it wasn't...
You let out a tiny sigh that escapes your companion's notice, smiling face too busy taking in the surroundings.
The sand and sea-soaked boardwalk lead you directly to what was clearly the resort's hotel. Everyone is all smiles, no matter where you look. One of the staff stood in front of the double glass doors, waiting patiently as you approached. With a widening of her smile and a short bow, the woman turned and pushed open the door to allow you to enter.
The interior is just as colorful as the exterior, welcoming and vibrant and tropical in theme. Fake plants—or perhaps they were real?—were plopped in each and every corner, tall palm leaves spanning and drooping to catch the eye. Their waxy texture made it hard to determine if they were actual plants or not without close inspection.
The front desk was manned by a dark-skinned, bald man wearing similar clothes to all of the beach-goers; casual and bright, eye-catching colors. You were willing to bet he too was wearing flip flops. With all the sand around, it seemed the only practical footwear possible on the island.
His smile is easy and appeasing as the two of you step up across the counter. "Welcome! I hope your journey was pleasant?"
"It was." Rosinante gave a relieved smile and nod, as if weary and excited to be here. "Glad to finally get here. We've been looking forward to this vacation for weeks."
You adopted a winning smile as well, looking around as if overwhelmed by the sights, but actually canvasing whatever staff were in your line of sight. Nothing odd in here either.
The attendant looked pleased, closing his eyes and dipping his head in understanding. "Of course. Allamanda Bay is a wonder to behold, and I'm certain the many activities available to you and its exceptional beauty will meet and surpass any and all expectations you may possess."
You finally pay closer attention to the conversation, stepping closer and leaning into Rosinante for greater affect. "I think I read somewhere that they offer full body massages?" You don't need to fake the excitement in your voice.
"You are correct, madam." The man took the reservation papers from Rosinante, simultaneously answering your question. "Full body massages, a soak in the hot springs, facials, mani-pedis, yoga classes in the mornings and evenings...and so much more. Whatever your interests may be, we are certain to have something to delight you."
Rosinante glances your way with an expression that clearly indicated he was impressed so far with the roster of things to do, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest as you waited for your room key to be produced. Your heart thudded as you breathed in his scent, but the reality of the situation was never far from your consciousness.
Stop enjoying this so much, you tell yourself angrily.
Who were you kidding?
"Everything appears to be in order." Your host remarked with a satisfied nod. In short order, he turned and retrieved a key from beneath the counter, a small tag with the room number it belonged to dangling from the chain. "You shall be on the 5th floor. Just down this hallway you'll find an elevator." He leaned over the counter and bit and indicated where it would be located. "You'll want to turn left once you exit."
"Thank you very much." Rosinante said with an appreciative incline of his head, before accepting the key held out to him. In addition, the man produced a brochure with more information, should the two of you need it.
"Please enjoy your stay." The dark-skinned man bid, bestowing the both of you with a respectful bow.
Turning and taking your luggage in hand, you follow the instructs he'd laid out for you, reaching the elevator and stepping in beside an elderly couple who were quietly bickering to themselves about which activity they would be doing first that day. Feeling awkward, you exchange a raised eyebrow stare with Rosinante, keeping silent and pretending like you couldn't hear the warbled voices when they finally exited the elevator on the 4th floor.
The doors closed, before dinging once more and opening to the fifth floor, and you turn left to find your room.
You've both stayed mostly silent up to the point, only speaking when necessary to keep your cover. And your trek down the hallway is also without a word. Instead, you eye the somewhat tacky beach-themed carpet and palm-tree inspired wallpaper leading up to your room.
Rosinante finally stops in front of room 516. He inserts the key and, with a turn of his wrist, unlocks the door to allow you both entrance.
As far as hotel rooms go, it's got all the typical amenities; a bathroom off to the right, small alcove with hangers on the left for placing your luggage, a table and two chairs pressed up against the opposite wall just underneath a wide window overlooking the beach below, a couch appolstered with fabric a few decades out of style, two nightstands, a small den den mushi on one of them for calling room service, and a bed.
You'd been warned beforehand about the bed situation, but it was still somehow a jolt when you notice the single, queen-sized mattress that the both of you would have to address at some point today. But, ignoring that for now, you set your bag on the edge of the bed while Rosinante locks the door behind him.
A quick sweep of the room proves nothing unusual or suspicious about it, nor the presence of any hidden den-den mushi that could pick up on conversations within. For all intents and purposes, this was a simple, unremarkable hotel room, no different than any other.
Once established that there'd be no one listening to your conversations inside, you let out a sigh and flopped onto the bed unceremoniously, arms spread out to either side of you.
"I think a nap is in order." You mutter, eyes closing with bliss.
"It's only one in the afternoon." Rosinante points out, chuckling at your reaction. "We can still get some basic recon done today."
Your head perks up hopefully, looking at where he was unzipping the top of his bag. "After a nap?"
He turns to look at you, flashing a reluctant smile. "Probably not. The sooner we get the recon done, the sooner we can come back and rest. How's that sound?"
"Like my feet are gonna be screaming at me by the time we're done." With a muted thud, your head drops back down to the bed, a sigh lifting and lowering your chest. Your complaints were superficial at most, since he was technically the one in charge on this mission. His several years your senior in the force made that certain.
"Well, we got a decent look at the main beach, but it seems like there's more on the interior of the island and within the palm trees." The blonde figured with a shrug. "A basic recon of the whole island can give us a better idea where to look throughout the rest of the week."
He made perfect sense, from the mission standpoint, however that didn't make your throbbing feet feel any better. "You're right...doesn't mean I have to like it, though."
Once more he laughed, and you savored the sound.
"Just give me a few minutes and we can get back out there." You say, relishing this small amount of time just laying down. "Just to recoup the charter boat journey."
He nods, then as if confronted with what was on both of your minds with your position as it was, he cleared his throat and gestured to the bed. "Since we have a moment, I wanted to talk about the uh, bed situation."
It wasn't a conversation you were particularly thrilled to be having this soon, but it was a necessary one if you were going to preserve your ability to work together without issue. Rolling onto your stomach, you give him your full attention.
He glances away, before returning to gaze back at you. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I know there are some boundaries we can't help but cross over in this kind of mission when we're out in public—we both agreed to it when we accepted the mission from Sengoku—but this is one of those things that we do have control over. In this room, we don't have to put on a show for anyone. In here, we can be real. It's just us."
He gestures to the other large piece of furniture in the room. "I'll take the couch. Or, if you feel that's unfair or something, we can always switch off and alternate between the couch and the bed. I'm fine with either decision, but I'll give you the choice."
He flashes you a caring smile, hands raised openly to indicate that it was your turn to speak on the matter. With pursed lips, you mull over the idea.
Your hesitation had less to do with him making you uncomfortable and more to do with restricting your opportunities to see things as more than they were. You knew it would be a little awkward—on your part, of course—being in such close proximity to Rosinante with the feelings you harbored for him deep down. It was a recipe for distraction, disappointment, and heartbreak later down the line. Indulging in your secret desires would do no good. And, in a sense, wasn't that taking advantage of him in some way?
But...you didn't think it fair that he should have to take the couch just because of that. You were both adults. And if you couldn't handle being in a bed platonically, then you were more unprofessional than you'd ever imagined yourself to be.
No. He was your friend. And with a deep breath—and a mental reality check—you shook your head and dismissed his words with a small flap of your hand.
"If you're not uncomfortable with it, I say we both take the bed. We'll need as much decent sleep as we can get, and I highly doubt you'll fit on that couch at all." Your pointed glance at the couch's shorter width makes him reevaluate it for himself, and he winced. "You don't need to worry about me being uncomfortable. It's just a bed. Nothing to psyche ourselves out over."
"Oh...yeah." He slowly nods, giving a rather forced chuckle and rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry, I've probably made it weird just bringing it all up. I just wanted to made sure we were on the same page and all...Uh, anyway..."
He's adorable when he's nervous, you think, smile widening as he went about doing something to change the subject. With a set lift to his shoulders, he grabs the small box containing your den-den mushi linking you up with Sengoku's office and places it on the small table across the room.
"Better let Sengoku know we've settled in, and then go out and get a good look at the island."
After an uneventful scouting of the island, walking its main trail that weaved through the palm trees and along the edge of the shoreline on the far side—hand in hand to keep up the facade of a couple—you returned to your hotel room exhausted and in dire need of some food.
Room service was, surprisingly, complimentary with your accommodation package. The two of you had shared a disbelieving stare when the lovely woman on the room's den den mushi had disclosed that particular bit of information. How much had Sengoku allocated to this mission? Surely a resort like this didn't come with a cheap price tag...
Since it was provided anyway, you both ordered to your heart's content from the menu provided. Most of the fare was pretty standard, though there was a section for specialty dishes native to the island's edible resources, as well as an alcohol and cocktails menu. Getting hungover on day one of the mission wouldn't be a good look, so you avoided that for now.
With you meals eaten and your bellies full, the exertion of the day began to weigh down your eyelids, and staying awake was nigh impossible. There was still tendrils of light in the sky, visible from the window's faint orange glow, but neither of you could fight the fatigue any longer.
And so, too tired to care much about any awkwardness you'd felt before, you both mutter a 'goodnight' and tuck yourselves beneath the covers.
Somehow, you both made it through the night without dying of embarrassment or causing an incident that would forever change the course of your friendship. Upon waking up that next morning, you were relieved to find that your limbs weren't draped over his and you hadn't inadvertently snuggled into him during the night. No need for a mortifying scene like that. Thank heaven...
Still, you woke first, which gave you the opportunity to see Rosinante in a truly content and relaxed state of being. You'd never admit to anyone that you'd spent a few minutes just examining his face as he lay there, partially drooling into the pillow. Cute...
Some time later, having woken up, showered, and eaten your room service breakfast that left you full and ready to set out for the day, Rosinante looked over the brochure the front desk attendant had given you.
"We'll have to start setting time aside for things that the island offers for recreation, to keep up appearances. We can pick one for this morning, while we think over our next move." His eyes flicked back and forth as he read the inner pages. You smile to yourself, finishing a few things with your makeup in the bathroom mirror.
"I don't think I've ever heard someone say 'let's do something fun this morning' in a more clinical and uninterested fashion." You retort, and he shoots you a rueful smile.
"Sorry, I guess I'm just caught up in the mission. No reason we can't enjoy the things we do to keep our cover, right?" You nod, and he goes back to the brochure. "Says here that yoga classes are held in the hotel's recreation hall in the mornings."
"Mm, nah." You dismiss the idea, wanting to give your limbs a little break from too much exercise a bit longer. Your feet retained a residual ache from all the walking the day before. "Anything else?"
His blonde head turned back to the paper, tilting to skip to the next page. "There's snorkeling on the eastern shoreline, surfing, water polo. Can't do those..." He muttered, continuing on. "All day cocktails served at the cabanas, and a meet-and-greet with other guests at the bar."
"I could use a little pick-me-up, couldn't you?" A little sun and some waves as your ambiance sounded delightful. "Some lounging on the beach, just doing nothing..."
"Alright, nothing it is." He laughs, tossing the brochure down and standing to get his flip flops. "This is certainly the most laid-back mission I've ever been on."
A sigh escapes you. "I suppose we shouldn't get used to it, though."
"Probably not."
The gentle sea breeze caressed your sun-warmed skin as you basked on the beach lounger. A fruity cocktail of some kind in your hand, you sip slowly through the swirly straw that stuck out of the top, tasting the citrusy fruit native to the island and pucker your lips in delight.
While there is the ever-present chatter of other beach-goers around you, playing and walking and laughing to the tune of their own amusement, the rhythmic and subtle whooshing of the waves upon the sand kept your focus.
When was the last time you relaxed this deeply? Maybe it was wrong of you, but despite being on a mission even now, you couldn't help the instinct to forget all of your responsibilities and just take in the sun's rays.
Pure bliss. The light buzz from the alcohol in your glass, coupled with the warmth, had you on the verge of sleep. Heavy eyelids threatened to close and have you dozing off right then and there, but the beautiful view of the open sea beyond coaxed your energy reserves to keep you awake despite it all.
Eyes closed behind your sunglasses, you hear Rosinante sigh out in contentment from his own chair on your right. Lip twitching upwards at the sound, something stirs you to move your arm, reaching over and fumbling around until your fingers brush over his, tangling them together.
You swallow down the excitement, letting it simmer but not show. If only for the moment, you can pretend it all means more than it actually does...
Rosinante hums, then perhaps looks over at your hands linked together. "Y/N?" He asks in a low mumble, maybe confused as to why you had suddenly held his hand.
"To keep our cover." Is your only response, hoping he doesn't press more than that.
Thankfully he doesn't, and simply squeezes your fingers in his, keeping hold of them as you continue to lay there and enjoy your drinks.
If only he could feel how fast your heart beat in your chest, fatigue replaced by a guilty pleasure.
After your mid-morning lounging and drinking, it was time to get to work again. Having seen nothing on the first cursory glance of the island, Rosinante felt it prudent to spend more time in the most likely places a base may be hidden, which meant a short hike to the other side of the island, despite your hopes that the day wouldn't require too much strenuous activity.
Hands held as you walked together wherever you went, putting on your best smiles and curious expressions like tourists would, the cave system was your first stop. The resort offered caving tours to descend into the deeper sections to those curious and brave enough to try. But even a quick peek down there proved fruitless.
Your next two locations were nondescript buildings that had been not far off from the caves themselves. Getting inside of them unnoticed proved simple—there was so little supervision away from the main hotel—though a thorough search of both premises proved pointless. No signs of smuggler activity to be found, only equipment storage for the cave tours. So much for that.
Rosinante wasn't deterred, however, and gave you a smile of encouragement. "I suppose no sign of smugglers is a good thing for the island, though unfortunate, given they need to be found and stopped as soon as possible"
Returning to the main resort of lunch, you venture out again, revisiting a few of the next most likely places you could think of to find some sort of sign of smugglers. However, after another few hours of searching, there was nothing to show for it.
"Let's head back." You eventually suggest, once again taking the blonde's hand in your own. By now it felt so natural to reach for it, you felt like you were missing something otherwise. "It'll be dark in another hour, and I doubt we'll have any better luck if we continue tonight."
"Yeah, you're right." His smile returned, and his fingers squeezed yours again. "Besides, I think all our hard work deserves a reward."
Your brows lifts slowly. "What do you have in mind?"
"Oh, just something I saw on the brochure this morning." Is his cryptic answer, refusing to elaborate even as you pester him with questions about what he was talking about. "You'll see." Is all he'd say on the matter.
So, following him back to the resort, you change into clothes that you hadn't spent all day sweating in, and wandered back down to the beach. It was abuzz with activity, even more so than it had earlier when it was bright out. Strange. What was going on?
The echo of what you think is a drum beats a steady rhythm into the night. You try to crane your neck higher to look past the crowd of people mingling around, but can't quite see its source.
By now, the sun had fully set, the horizon barely holding onto the last bits of light as the stars emerged and the moon took its place in the sky. Tall torches stuck into the sand lit up the beach close to the bar, and you finally approach in a small break in the throng of people. It's then that you can see what all the fuss is about.
You shiver as Rosinante leans in close to your ear. "I'll get us some drinks." And before you can respond, he's slipped away in the crowd to get to the bar's bamboo counter.
All your attention is fixed to the two dancers standing in the center of the large circle of space the crowd had left unoccupied, large staffs in hand with fires lit at each of the ends twirling and swooping and spinning as they moved in tandem with the consistent thumping of the drum.
A man and woman, their outfits were obviously homemade, colorful garments stitched together in mismatching patterns with shells and beads sewn in. Their faces were lit up with delight as they moved in tandem, bodies perfectly in sync as they dazzled the crowd of onlookers with each and every flick of their wrists. It all looked so precise and careful, yet graceful and natural. Clearly, both knew what they were doing, and felt no nervousness swirling their flames so close to their own and each other's bodies.
You're mesmerized, eyes fixed to the way the light of the flames at the end of the staffs flickers and glides in the air along the path the dancers take it. In the darkness, the feelings it evokes hit you deep in your chest; as if it were so familiar, but experienced once more after a long time without. An ache relieved somehow. You couldn't quite explain it.
Rosinante returning to your side and nudging your arm shake you from the stupor, and your glance up to see him smiling at you. The passing of the flames give his eyes a glow, a spark, some ethereal quality you are struck by. In this light, he looks even more handsome than you could have thought possible.
His smile remains, but his brows lower a bit in confusion, making you realize you were staring. "You ok?"
"Yeah, just..." It's difficult to form any words suddenly. "Sorry."
"Well, maybe this drink will help a bit." He once again holds up the glass he'd gotten for you, a clearly fruity cocktail once more, a lime wedge placed along the rim of the glass. You accept the offer, and manage to smile back.
"Thanks."
"Anything for my lovely girlfriend." He says with a wink and a husky tone, sending your heart all aflutter. But he doesn't seem to notice the many, many spiraling thoughts now invading your head.
You both turn back to the fire dancers, though you're no longer paying attention, instead idly sipping on your drink while you try convincing yourself he was only saying things like that for the benefit of your cover story.
"Pere pere pere pere pere..." The small den den mushi rang, sitting on the palm of Rosinante's hand as you ate your lunch that afternoon, another long morning of recon having gone back uneventfully. Patiently, you waited to be connected through to your superior, munching on sandwiches and fresh fruit while the little snarled continued to drone on.
"Pere pere pere pere pere...gatcha."
You both perk up as the snail's eyes opened wider, taking on the facial expression of the man on the other end. "Rosinante, Y/N...status report."
"Negative on smuggler activity." Was the blonde marine's serious tone, giving you a glance. "No signs of anything illicit or suspicious goings-on thus far. If they're here, they're extremely well hidden."
"How much of the island would you say you've been able to search so far?"
Rosinante looks to you for confirmation, and you lean in to be better heard through the snail. "I estimate 45%, sir. All prime locations for concealed illegal activity have been searched. A group like this would need a large enough space for storage of their goods. We've cleared all structures and spaces we know of that could accommodate that sort of operation. We're onto our secondary and less-likely areas just to be thorough."
"Hmm." Sengoku takes in that info, mulling it over. A series of rapid, dull thumps comes across through the channel. Drumming fingers. Both of you know better than to interrupt this time, letting him think over the facts available to come to his own conclusion. "Team 2 has reported a few signs of suspicious activity, they are currently investigating further into those leads. I anticipate team 3's report later this evening."
Another long pause as Sengoku thinks on it some more, before he clears his throat and addresses you both again. "I trust you've balanced recon and keeping your cover? Partaken in the resort's activities?"
"Yes, sir." Rosinante gives a little chuckle. "No suspicions raised yet."
"Well, good...good..." He cleared his throat once more, and you exchanged a look with your partner. Odd. "Then proceed as you have been, and report anything odd you discover promptly. Team 2's findings seem most promising, but if they have a secondary location they operate from, I'd like to weed it out as well and completely wipe these smugglers from the area in one fell swoop."
"Yes, sir." You both nod and say in tandem.
"I expect your next report in two days time, if not before with anything pressing. Until then."
"Gatcha."
"...really was quite a sight, with Chiyo fending off those awful pirates practically all by himself! Supposedly, they were dangerous, wanted men. With bounties, even! Oh, but you wouldn't have even known, with how easily he'd dispatched of those brutes." The boisterous red-headed woman exclaimed, pressing into her husband's side as she recounted her tale in a buzzed slur of words.
Even if you hadn't been interested in hearing her story, you had a feeling her volume would have dragged you into listening regardless. Which, you think, is exactly how you'd ended up talking to the other couple at the bar in the first place.
"My Chiyo saved my life that day, and my entire fortune. I don't know what I'd done if he hadn't been part of the passenger ship I boarded." She continued, oblivious or unperturbed by her husband's reddening ears and face. Clearly, he wasn't as enthused about his deeds being trumped up so much or so loudly. "I knew then, I couldn't leave his side. It was a sign, that we were meant to be. Wasn't it dear?"
Chiyo mumbled an assent you couldn't quite make out, swirling what remained of his drink before downing it in one gulp, gesturing to the bartender down the way for another.
Seated beside you on his stool at the bar, one arm draped over your shoulder protectively, Rosinante raised his drink in acknowledgement of the man's boasted bravery, an easygoing smile in place. "Quite a story. If only there were more men like you out there, protecting people like us. I'm sure there'd be less of these treacherous pirates out roaming the seas so freely."
"That's precisely what I told the marines when they showed up after!" The woman exclaimed, gesturing emphatically with her half-drunken drink in hand. Some of it splashed down into the sand between you, luckily not going far enough to get on either you or Rosinante. "'Where were you when I'd needed you?' I'd asked them. I was practically left to fend for myself on the journey. Unfortunately, they seemed unwilling to listen. What's more, they refused when I asked that he be allowed to enlist as a proper marine! The audacity...hmph!"
You glanced at Chiyo, who was trying his best to press as far down into his barstool as humanly possible, or pretend he was anywhere but here, perhaps. Poor man. You sip delicately on your cocktail, relaxing a little further into Rosinante's arm. He pulls you that half-inch closer, warming your chest with...something. This close, you could feel his heartbeat...
"Oh, but listen to me, driveling on...how rude of me!" She suddenly waved her hand dismissively, gave finally settling on the two of you. "You make such a lovely couple, you know. There's so much love in your eyes. How did you two meet?"
Your brows raise, and with a nervous smile aimed at your partner right beside you, he gives a little chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.
"I'm afraid it isn't nearly as exciting as your first encounter, Miss Tilly."
"Oh, nonsense!" She pressed, leaning forward with rapt attention. "I'm certain it's a lovely story all the same. I'd love to hear it."
"Well..." He started, looking to you with a little upward tilt to the corner of his mouth. You'd already rehearsed this information on the trip to the island, but now that it was being questioned for the first time, you felt your heart rate increase. "It was in a little village in the South Blue."
"Oh, so far!" The woman exclaimed, a hand pressing to her chest in surprise. "Are you both from there?"
"Yes, though from different islands." You chime in with a conciliatory nod. "I left home to attend academy to continue my studies in writing, which just so happened to be where he lived."
Your sheepish glance at Rosinante revealed that he was playing his part well, smiling at you with a look so full of adoration, you found it difficult to convince yourself it wasn't real. When you paused, he took up the rest of the story, breaking your stare to look at your two avid listeners.
"At the time, I worked in a shoemaker's shop. Honest work, perhaps, but a bit...dull." He explained with a rueful chuckle. "I often found myself staring out the window when there weren't any customers. Across the street was this little bookstore, with a bench outside. Perfect for sitting and reading on a warm afternoon."
"Oh!" Miss Tilly placed a hand on her mouth, as if anticipating where this story was going.
"One day, there's this beautiful woman sitting there with her nose stuck in a book. Never seen her before in my life, and I'd gotten used to seeing the same dozens of regulars there after months of watching." His face takes on an expression of wonder, as if remembering the event like it had actually happened. "And after that day, she was there every day after that."
"Not every day." You mumble, pointing out his story's flaw.
"Most days, much to my delight." He amends with a wink, causing Miss Tilly to giggle behind her hand. Chiyo, having recovered from being put in the social spotlight, was sipping on his new drink and listening with less attention than his wife, but listening nonetheless. Probably thankful the conversation was no longer about him.
"I spent weeks just seeing her from the window, wondering who she was, where she'd come from, and what her name was." He continued, closing his eyes in content. "I'd never gotten a chance to talk to her, even if I'd had the nerve to. She'd be gone by the time my shift was done, and I wouldn't know where to start looking for her. The island wasn't small."
"How did you two finally meet?" Miss Tilly asked, no doubt wanting to get to the part where they'd presumably fallen in love at first sight. The anticipation on her face was palpable.
"I broke my favorite pair of shoes." You chipped in with a laugh. "Imagine that."
"For what it's worth, I'm glad they broke." Rosinante mumbled, and you playfully smacked his chest.
"Anyway," you continued as if he hadn't interrupted, "I didn't want to just give up on them. They were my favorites, ones my mother had bought for me before I left for the academy. So instead of buying new ones, I asked around for the best place to get them fixed. That just so happened to be the shoemaker's shop across the street from my favorite bookstore. And the man running the counter was the most handsome man I'd ever seen, which was a plus too."
"She came in, and we...just hit it off from there." Rosinante finished up, meeting your gaze with a look that could only be described as loving. Miss Tilly 'awwed' from her seat across the way.
"What pure love the two of you share, found in the simplest of places." She cooed in that motherly way, turning to Chiyo. "Doesn't it just melt your heart, my dear?"
His mumble was too low to hear, but it seemed to satisfy Miss Tilly, since she turned back to you, suddenly gesturing between you with a laugh. "Oh, no need to be prudish in front of us, we're no stranger to displays of affection."
You realize she's interpreted your shared gaze as a desire to share a kiss. It would seem odd to disprove her assumption. After all, you were supposed to be a well-established couple. Hesitating would be strange, in their eyes. So, after only a moment's hesitation and a fractional widening of your eyes, you turn towards him and lean in to place your lips on his.
He's taken a bit aback, but recovers quickly, accepting and reciprocating your quick kiss as if you'd done so a hundred times before. By all terms, it was chaste. Barely more than a brush of lips. Despite this, your heart was hammering in your chest, adrenaline making your fingers buzz in your lap, but you only smile wider at the older couple across from you, pretending the kiss wasn't setting your lips a-tingling and your chest a-fluttering.
Rosinante's arm wraps around you a bit tighter, even as the conversation takes on a more casual and less personal direction, but you swear you can feel his heart beating just as rapidly as your in his chest.
By the end of your 4th day, you'd reconned about 75% of the island. No signs of smuggling, and at this point, you highly doubted you'd find any. That being said, you didn't search any less diligently despite the lack of evidence.
Still, you could tell Rosinante was...distracted. Quieter. More thoughtful. He let you lead the majority of the search today, face pensive with concentration or deep thought. Whether he was mulling over your lack of evidence so far, or something else, you couldn't quite tell. Something held you back from asking, as well.
Part of you wondered if something had somehow...changed. Nothing really had, of course. You'd simply searched the island as usual, and kept to your cover as usual. So why did you think there was more meaning to his little smiles and more weight to each innocent touch on your skin? Why did you feel his eyes on you when you weren't looking at him? Why couldn't you get your mind off of that kiss you'd shared? It hadn't been anything special. A peck at best. You'd wanted so much more than that...
You had made an even bigger space for him in your heart than it already had, and the unfortunate truth was that it had no place being there to begin with. He was, technically, your superior. A partner, at the very least.
Sengoku would never approve. Fraternization was generally always frowned upon. But really, when had that ever stopped your secret pining all these years? You'd always been a fool like that.
When you returned to your room that night, tired and hungry, you ate the room service food in companionable silence, pondering how the hell you were supposed to move on as if nothing happened after the mission was over.
Rosinante had elected to skip the afternoon's recon. You didn't mind, having become a little tired of constantly walking the island and searching for something that, to you, clearly wasn't there. So an afternoon of relaxing on the beach again was a welcome reprieve.
Skipping the cocktails tonight—after several days of light drinking, a sober evening felt pertinent—you found yourselves walking the edge of the shore, careful to keep just out of reach of the approaching waves. You'd forgone shoes, choosing instead to walk barefoot through the sand, letting it squish between your toes with each step.
Once more, you walked hand in hand, so comfortable with it now you barely batted an eye when he'd tugging you along beside him. You pass by couples drawing hearts in the wet sand, loungers nearby with more couples relaxing in the sun.
Further ahead, a few kids build sandcastles with their little plastic buckets and toy shovels, stacking the towers as high as possible before they slowly crumple under their own weight. You smile, chuckling as one of them stands and stomps on the castle with his foot, letting out as terrifying a roar as a child could, pretending to be a monster destroying the structure.
You pass them by, mulling over the scene for several minutes. Rosinante squeezes your hand, perhaps noticing the faint smile still on your face. "Something on your mind?"
"No." You say automatically, shaking your head to dispel the silly thought. But when he keeps watching you with interest, obviously not believing your words, you shrug. "When's the last time you built a sand castle?"
He quirked a brow, letting out an amused breath. "I don't know. Probably..." Several quiet seconds passed, before he finally shook his head. "Actually I don't know if I've ever built one."
"Really?" The question comes out with more force than you intended.
"What, is that so hard to believe?"
"A little, yeah."
"Well, it's true." He concluded with a shrug. "I don't remember ever building one."
Outraged at this travesty, you let go of his hand and kneel on the sand, gathering up some of the damper stuff into a pile. He looks at you with a slowly widening smile. You meet his with one of your own, gesturing him to join you. "Well, are you gonna help or what?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Absolutely not."
His laugh is surprised but light-hearted. He kneels on the sand beside you, helping you form the mound of sand into a bigger pile. Without the proper tools, there's little you can do to make it look like a proper 'castle,' but with enough molding, you can manage some sort of fort at the very least, you think.
There's not much talk as you work together, hands pressing and brushing and patting over and on each other as you go along. More than once, you catch the other's eyes and smile, before looking away. But you never stop 'accidentally' touching hands as you work on the small sand structure, building up the middle circular mound, and then on the inches-tall wall that wrapped around it.
Little by little, more details came together, with a deeper section in between the wall and the mound dug out to act as a moat. With no bucket around, you couldn't really fill it with sea water, but it served its purpose. Before long, you had a decency built sand castle beside you, not nearly as impressive as the children's, but all your own and done with care.
"Not bad for your first sandcastle." You appraise with an approving eye, sitting beside him on the sand to take a break. "Maybe next time we'll have the proper tools."
Rosinante hums his approval, gaze faraway on the sun as it neared the edge of the horizon. So caught up in your task, you hadn't noticed just how dark it had become since you'd set out on your walk of the beach. Now, the stars were beginning to be visible beneath the light of the afternoon fading away.
Side by side, you watch as the sky grew a dark orange, aflame with golden light. With all the days of recon, you hadn't actually gotten a chance until now to take in the sight from the island's shore. And what a sight it was...truly breathtaking. The sea breeze was gentle and lulling, coaxing your eyes to close in peace and tranquility.
Sensation on your hand has you glancing down, where Rosinante's fingers had found yours in the sand, and linked his fingers together with your own. Smiling to yourself, you look back at the horizon as it began to just barely disappear, bit by bit.
Another touch, this time on your chin, guides you to look back at him, and the surprised question on your lips dies when you catch the way he's staring at them with a yearning that made your heart pound once. His thumb idly brushes your chin, contemplatively tilting his head as he can't seem to tear his eyes away from your lips.
"Rosi." Your voice can't manage anything above a breathy whisper, the sound causing him to swallow and begin leaning forward, the distance between you closing inch by inch.
"Trust me?" He murmurs a question, and you don't even need to think about the answer, dipping your chin in a nod without hesitation.
His lips press to yours not a moment later, warm and gentle and slow as they move in a measured kiss. Lingering and exploratory, it's everything you'd hoped the first one could have been. How your heart hadn't leapt out of your chest by now you'd never guess. You feel like you're shaking as you reciprocate his kiss, pressing forward to encourage him not to stop.
The kiss breaks suddenly, his shaky exhale a rush of break against your cheek until you're pulled back into another kiss not a moment after, this one more insistent and toe-curling than the last. His hand slides up the back of your neck tangling in your hair and pressing you closer. Dear lord, his hands...so capable, and yet so gentle when they held you.
Perhaps you should wonder if this was actually necessary to keep your cover intact, but truthfully, you couldn't care less, heart soaring with each second his lips are on yours.
One of you lets out a breathy whimper. You're not sure who. A tiny part of you says that this was going too far, and the rest was wanting him to push you into the sand and press his whole body against yours.
Shifting in the sand, your hands press to his chest, intent to pull him closer-
"RAAAAA!"
You're startled apart as the childish roar of the boy you'd seen before jumps directly onto the sandcastle beside you, squashing the little sand structure into a foot-shaped indent in the ground.
"Hey!" You say, pushing away from Rosinante to try standing and chasing the kid off, but he's already roared again, running off down the beach with his group of siblings or friends only a few meters behind, giving chase.
The two of you panting hard, out of breath, still slightly stunned from the unexpected interruption, your gazes meet. His pupils are blown wide, lips slightly red from the passionate kissing you'd been engaged with.
Underlying the desire in his gaze, you think you see...guilt? The expression stabs you through the gut with an intensity you weren't expecting. Did he...regret it?
Were you just looking into it too much? Were you interpreting more than was there?
The sun had fully dipped below the horizon by now, the sky turning from a smoky orange to a deep purple, beckoning night to descend over the island. Noticing the lack of light, you glance away and clear your throat.
"We should head back and...order food." You say, remembering that you hadn't eaten anything that afternoon.
Without a word, he nods, standing when you help him up from the sand, leaving your destroyed sand castle where it had once stood.
"Anything to report, Team 1?" The snail asked in Sengoku's voice, and Rosinante shook his head a negative.
"It's our assessment that there is no smuggling activity on this island. We've scouting all areas possible for an operation of their size to hide, but have found no evidence."
Sengoku didn't ask if they were certain of this evaluation, a point that both marines were prideful of. The trust he held in them was something they were honored by.
"Good. I believe we can rule out the possibility of a second location, based on yours and Team 3's information." He said with confidence, nodding to himself as the snail mimicked. "Team 2 has made positive identifications of 2 known smugglers on their island, so we'll focus efforts there and zero in on their hideout."
You and your blonde companion nod dutifully, waiting to hear further instructions. You'd already packed up both of your bags, anticipatory of an early extraction now that you'd fully surveyed the island. There was nothing further for you to do there.
"With the completion of your mission, normally I'd bring you back immediately." Sengoku went on to say, and you frown slightly at his wording. "However, there are two days left in the reservation. Given it was paid in advance and is non-refundable, I'd say it would be a waste for the two of you not to take advantage of it. Consider it a reward for your diligence and good work."
"Sir?" Just as surprised as you, Rosinante catches your eye, sharing a raised-brow expression. The snail's face smiles a little as your boss chuckles through the den den mushi.
"Don't act so surprised. Neither of you have taken a shore leave in ages. I'd say you're due some down time by now. Relax and take the charter boat back at the originally planned time."
"Thank you, sir." You say, unsure of what else to say.
"Of course." The Fleet Admiral cleared his throat, expression returning to a more serious one. "Just don't go spreading around the fact that I let you stay. I can't have the rest of my marines thinking I'm playing favorites." Or encourage slackers to rush jobs like this...
"Of course, sir." Rosinante's most hquirked upwards, amused.
"Enjoy yourselves. We'll debrief upon your return."
"Gatcha."
Without pressing responsibilities hanging over you, and with the island's many activities open to try, you could finally, fully, relax in the beautiful scenery. You hadn't realized how exhausting the constant vigilance had been until you no longer had to keep it up.
Rosinante must have felt the same, because after a morning of yoga, a few cocktails with lunch, and an early afternoon once again getting your ears talked off by Miss Tilly and—less so—her husband, he suggested something on the brochure you'd secretly hoped to do at least once.
The resort's spa was just behind the back of the main building in a smaller one, tucked away into the canopy of palm trees. The temperature inside was several degrees warmer than outside, and the air was humid to promote relaxation, you noticed. The attendant at the front desk welcomed you both inside with a smile.
"How can I help you?"
"We were hoping to get one of your full body massages, if there are any openings?" Rosinante asked hopefully, and the woman's face lit up.
"Oh, yes! Absolutely. Right this way, please." She stepped out from behind the desk and gestured with a hand for the both of you to follow her further back into the spa.
The resort spared no expense on the ambient decoration, going for a theme of peace and serenity. Gray-blue walls of stone, steam rising from well-disguised vents in the floor, and low-lighting left you wanting to sink into a chair and melt. Nothing sounded better right then and there.
The attendant lead the two of you back to a small room with shelves and small lockers. Pulling two white garments, she handed you both one and pointed to a door in the corner.
"You may change in there, and set your things in one of the lockers out here." And with a smile, she indicated a small bench on the opposite side of the room. "The next available masseuse will come and get you once ready. I believe it'll just be a few minutes before the tables are prepared for you. If you need any assistance, just use the den den mushi." One last gesture to the wall indicated a small shelf with a tiny snail sitting atop it.
She left you both there, still holding your robes. And after peaking into the room for dressing, you notice there was no partition to shield you from the other. Obviously, not expecting any issue since you were supposed to be a couple, they hadn't really considered anything like that necessary.
You turn to Rosinante and flash a smile. "We can just turn around and...not look?"
He nodded, surprise registering in his eyes. Clearly he had been thinking more along the lines of taking turns, but now that the suggestion was out there...
"Yeah...sure. Uh, I won't look, promise."
Closing the door behind you, your back turns to the blonde and, trusting that he'd keep his word, you begin to undress only feet from where he was behind you.
Something courses through you at that thought, that just behind you he was in a similar state of undress, but after the awkwardness in the hours after the kiss on the beach, it was all you could do to keep your spiraling thoughts in check. Despite the heat and humidity in this building, it wasn't farfetched to say the heat in your face was from something else...
The rustling of clothing is all that is heard in the room, and before long, he clears his throat. "Ready?"
"Yeah, are you?"
He makes an affirmative noise, and you slowly turn around, spotting him wrapped in the same robe you now sport, looking a little flustered. When your brow raises in his direction, he smiles and looks away, not wanting to say anything.
Gathering your clothes, you return to the locker room and choose two to stow them away in. Then, as instructed, you take a seat on the bench to await your turn. You lean back, letting out a held breath. "I feel all stiff from all the walking around we've done. This is definitely needed."
"No kidding..." Corazon leans forward and stretched his back out, giving a grunt when something popped.
"The masseuse will do that for you." You say with a smile. "Don't go breaking your back before they get a chance to first."
That earns you a chuckle, and he reluctantly sits normally to wait for your turn on the tables.
It isn't long. The desk attendant was correct when she estimated only a few minutes. Before long, a knock is heard on the door to your left, and a woman emerges with a searching look around the room, finally landing on you. "Couple's massage?" She asks, then gestures you back with your nods. "Please come with me."
Similar to the long tiled room you'd first entered through, the room the masseuse led you to was small, private, and offered two massage tables in the middle for you and Rosinante to lay next to each other. The steam rose in lazy swirls, and the earthy smell of incense greeted you. Another masseuse stood to the side of one table, hands folded gently in front of her.
"Please remove your robes and situate yourselves facedown on the tables." The one who'd fetched them said, standing to the side expectantly with her eyes cast to the floor. One glance at the second woman confirmed she was doing the same, respectful of your privacy.
The weight of Rosinante's gaze on you should have felt uncomfortable, but it didn't. The dressing room had somehow felt different. Here, within the damp walls of the spa itself, you felt coaxed to set all cares and worries aside. Inhibitions too, it seemed.
Or maybe that kiss just had you yearning for more.
Swallowing down your pride and shoring up all of your confidence, you meet his gaze with a small smile and slowly slide the robe off of your shoulders. The blonde's eyes widen, involuntarily drifting lower to follow the path of the robe as it slipped away, baring more than you ever had to him. Uncovered breasts and the curve of your hip down to your thighs and-
Then, as if realizing what he was witnessing, he yanked his eyes away from you with a clearing of his throat. His hands were clenched together at his sides, knuckles white with effort. You decide to spare him further torment by sliding onto your table, placing your head onto the circular space.
You think you hear him suck in a breath, perhaps unable to resist glancing at you laying completely naked with your ass clear on display beside him, but with your gaze directed to the floor, it was impossible to tell. You see the robe as it slips to the floor, and he too takes his place on the other table, situation himself to be comfortable.
The two women gently explained everything they'd be doing, as well as where on your bodies you'd be touched, so nothing would come as a surprise. Then, with a bit of nourishing oil applied to their hands, warmed to comfort, the massage began.
And oh, was it heavenly! Your masseuse had sturdy hands, the power of her toned arms behind them bringing each and every knot out of your shoulder muscles with little trouble. You melted under her care, barely hearing as she described the benefits of the particular method she was using. All you could recall was mumbling something encouraging back.
Your shoulders felt like jelly in minutes, warmed and slightly vulnerable after having been tended to so thoroughly. All the tension you'd been holding in them had vanished.
Down she went, to the muscles in your back, and as she moved methodically along, her thumbs found and worked through a particularly tense spot. A groan of approval as she worked it loose rumbling from your throat and, a little embarrassed at the sound, you apologized.
"No apologies needed. It's only natural." The woman had said with gentle amusement in her tone. "You're one of the tougher ones to come through here. Not many are this tense so late into their stay with us."
"I guess I...brought a lot of...stress with me to the island." You mutter through grunts as she continued down your spinal column and outward.
"This one too." Rosinante's masseuse mused from somewhere beside you. "Though you feel more tense now than before."
Rosinante's only response is a grunt, followed by a low groan of his own as his own back was being worked through. A shiver runs down your spine, hearing such a sound being uttered from him. Would he sound that way while he-?
Your thought process is disturbed again as your massage continues, though you find the rest of the experience is balanced between completely relaxing into the table under you and picturing a scenario in bed when he'd make such a sound again. It was all you could do not to clench your legs and thighs together to relieve the ache that had began to stir. Not that you could, even if you wanted to. Your masseuse would know, and make you relax again.
Thoughts shifted to daydreams, which were dangerous to indulge in right now. He lay mere feet from you in an equally exposed position. Some part of you feared he'd know the extent of your fantasies if you let your mind wander now. Best save them for when you returned to the base and had some space apart, right?
So you lay there, at the mercy of a woman turning you into putty, hearing the man you couldn't have moan and groan in a way that had your insides fluttering. Dreams probably wouldn't be able to replicate the huskiness, the depth, you conclude. No imagination could capture how much Rosinante affected you in the flesh. Nonetheless, the sound was locked in your memory now, well and truly.
It was bliss. It was torture.
You wanted him. It was wrong.
This mission would leave you well and truly fucked.
You'd first noticed it as you both rose from your massage tables and dressed in the robes once more. Something in his eyes so magnetic and undeniably sexual. They smoldered hotter than the steam in the spa. This time, he didn't look away. All manner of shyness from before was absent. Nor did he attempt to shield himself for modesty too hastily, letting your eyes take in a glimpse of what rested below the golden hair leading down below his navel...
You swallowed hard when the sight disappeared beneath his robe. Meeting his gaze again was a mistake, because the look he pinned you with nearly had you moaning again. You bit your lip, holding back the noise that threatened to escape, and his eyes locked onto the movement. Before the two women around you could say anything, he put on a winning smile and thanked them both for the wonderful service. You're certain you follow up with something similar, but your brain was in a similar state of mush as your muscles.
Dressing into your normal clothes was quiet, but the tension was as thick as the steam in the spa itself, swirling and hot. Your skin buzzes with nervous anticipation, half convinced you were currently asleep on the massage table dreaming all of this up. Had he really looked at you like he wanted to bend you over the table himself? Afraid you'd see something else in his eyes, you don't look into them again.
The walk back to the resort is silent, though you never stray far from each other. Bumping legs or fingers brushing together the whole way, your breath quickens. It's electric the whole way. You buzzed, hyped up on something only he could sate.
It was evening now, and about the time you'd normally call for room service, but food was the furthest thing from your mind. The elevator up to your floor feels like it takes ages. And when it finally dings open, Rosinante is the first through it, leading you back to the hotel room with long strides. You half job to keep up, feeling your own patience diminishing alongside his. Some unspoken agreement has you both wanting to get back to the room as soon as possible.
There's something incredibly hot about his hands shaking as they finally slot the door's key into the knob, turning it with a rough flick of his wrist. It opens in a rush.
You follow in, but stop short when he turns suddenly and closes the door behind you. It shuts with a bang, your back hitting it not even a second after, and his hands plant themselves on either side of your head. He doesn't touch you, keeping himself the arm's length away, but you still feel trapped when the heated gaze you'd seen from him early is turned on you once more in full force. His mouth is slightly parted as he pants quietly.
"Y/N, I..." His head shakes absently, swallowing down as much of the obvious yearning in his tone as he can, but it's futile to hide it in its entirety. "I need to know. Is this really happening?"
"If you want it to." You breathe, deciding then and there that it was too much to resist, denying how much you wanted and needed him. No one had ever meant so much to you, and you doubting anyone ever again would. Both hands reach out to grab the front of his shirt, intending to bring him closer. But he resists your pull, one hand coming off the door to hold yours.
"It can't just be the mission." He insists. "I can't just...have you like this and then pretend it never happened. There's no 'normal' to go back to if we cross this line."
That line was paper-thin, and you were both rapidly sprinting towards it.
"I know." His lips are right there, and it's almost impossible to look away. You pull him again, and he gives some ground, forehead resting against yours. Yet still, he keeps that small amount of distance between you, intent on getting his message across before neither of you can come back from the edge.
"Tell me no, Y/N." He whispers, though you doubt even he really wants that from the way his voice sounded so breathy and unconfident. You can see a war behind his eyes, batting for victory. Self-control was currently winning—only just—though you could see how easily those tides could turn. Heavy lids make his pupils underneath almost entirely black. "If there's any part of you that isn't sure about thi-"
One more tug is all it takes to bring his mouth onto yours, and this time there's no resistance. You're pressed into the door, his lips slanting over yours in a kiss so desperate you can't help the loud whimper that escapes you. His superior height overwhelms you, knee sliding between your legs to hold you in place.
Holy shit, this was better than any daydream.
One hand fists his shirt more tightly, the other sliding up to thread your fingers into his hair. His own make a slow path down your sides, feeling the clothes areas that he'd seen bare just a few hours earlier. You shiver, wanting so desperately to feel those hands on your bare skin...
His knees presses up, putting pressure on your core through your shorts, and you moan into his mouth. He makes a male noise at the back of his throat in response, mouth never leaving yours, kisses sloppy and uncoordinated, taking your breath away all the same.
Somewhere in the mix, you realize you're still standing at the door. Should anyone be listening just outside of it, you're certain they were getting quite an auditory spectacle. With a little push, Rosinante walks backwards, pulling you along with him.
With each ambling and blind step, an article of clothing seems to disappear with it. At first, it's his shirt, the buttons frantically undone between your shaking and unsteady fingers. He's forced to let go of you to shrug it off, tossing it off somewhere on the floor. Once it's gone, you're free to greedily explore the bare planes of his chest, intoxicated with the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath your fingers.
Then it's your shorts, the zipper likely ruined with the speed and ferocity you help him jerk it down with. A few fumbling steps and you've kicked them away. Panties still in place, his fingers find the damp garment covering your sensitive nerves.
"Fuck..." He mutters against your mouth, struck at how wet you already were. You moan as he rubs you through the fabric, sending tingles of pleasure shooting up your spine each time he manages to brush your clit. You reciprocate the touch, palming his pants while also trying to undo his belt one-handed.
The instinctive thrusts into your hand have your head spinning, and you think you lose it completely when you once again hear that deliciously deep moan in response. His fingers pause and stutter their steady rhythm in your panties as he latches onto the pleasure you're providing in return.
Another stumbling step back and he growls something you can't interpret, finally releasing his hold on you to help you get the damn belt off of his hips, which had caught on the first loop. Impatiently, he discards the thing away and it clatters to the floor unceremoniously behind him. The pants are easy enough to unzip and shove down is hips, revealing the hardened length you'd felt hidden beneath.
He tries getting the pants off entirely, lifting one foot and dragging it down the other leg to shuck off the garment, but he loses his balance and falls backwards in a seated position on the bed. With a surprised yelp, his lips break away from you, taking a moment to gain his bearings, pupils blown out and dark with lust.
But this new position has you biting your lip, and you drop to your knees before him, tugging the pants down past his knees just enough to give you room to work with. Taking his length in hand and giving a few gentle pumps, you lean forward and lick a slow stripe up the underside of his cock.
Rosinante swears breathlessly, curling in over you and fisting a handful of your hair to give him some sort of anchor point. Resting one hand on his thigh, you feel it quiver when you swirl the tip of your tongue around the head, stimulating the most sensitive nerves with the barest hint of attention. You're delighted at how responsive he is to every touch, giving you free reign to explore him with your mouth as you see fit, tongue laving his cock with just the right pressure to tease and sate all at once.
And when you finally bring your lips over the tip and ease him into the wet heat of your mouth, he lets out the most guttural groan you've ever heard, head falling backwards onto the bed. Down and back up you go, repeating the pattern over and over and hollowing your cheeks to bring the most sensation possible.
Working him over, you realize he's speaking in disjointed, strained sentences, only catching half of the words coming out of his mouth.
"...s-so good at that...oh, fuck, Y/N...ahhh...none of my dreams came close." His fingers tightened in your hair, the subtle shift of his hips lifting to go another inch further into your mouth. Still, you go on, speed never slowing. "Can't believe...you want me...like this...nnghh!"
The vibrations of your own answering moan has him thrusting roughly once into your throat, causing your gag reflex and blurring your eyes with tears. Perhaps realizing what he'd unwittingly done, he guides you off of his cock, gasping as he fully slides free from your mouth.
"Come here." Pulling you from your place on the floor and into his lap, your knees settle on either side of his legs. Like magnets, your lips find each other once more. His tongue pushes past your lips, tangling with your own in an uncoordinated dance, hands roaming and touching any skin they could find.
Noticing that you still had on your shirt, he lifted it up over your head, your bra following only a moment behind it. Bare once more before his eyes, they trace a path that his hands then follow, through the valley of your breasts, then around them, until his thumbs slide up along your nipples.
"You're so beautiful..." Is his breathless confession, watching you practically melt into his touch, chest pushed forward for more. "I've always thought you were, but...fuck, just look at you. Nothing will ever compare."
"Rosi..." You moan, both at the praise and the way his fingers swirl around your nipples in sync.
"Having to pretend all week nearly drove me mad. I so badly wanted it to be real." He continued, eyes riveted to your heaving chest, slowly leaning closer. "You've no idea how many times I just wanted to...to kiss you, and touch you. And..."
Instead of speak, his tongue replaces one thumb, circling the areola before sucking the flesh. A shocked sound leaves you, and once more your fingers are in his hair, pressing him closer to your chest and encouraging the way his tongue and fingers had you squirming atop his lap. His arm keeps you from falling backwards off the bed, making you arch your back and pressing you close.
Remembering your position, you use it to your advantage, grinding your damp panties down onto his bare cock. This earned you a scrape from his teeth, a bit of pain to sharpen the pleasure. The second time, he lifts his hips up to meet you, and the pressure has your eyes fluttering with need. The third time nearly makes you cum then and there. The hours of yearning didn't lend well to any prolonged round of sex.
You shake in his arms, as if clinging to him to weather a storm. You'd waited long enough. Foreplay at this point was just edging, you thought.
"Rosi, please." You mutter into his hair, lust dripping from each syllable as you hold him to you.
He swears against your breast, and you decide that it's the hottest thing to hear such foul words from his lips. His hands slide down to your thighs, pulling you just another inch higher up on his lap to line you up with his cock.
It would be too much to break apart to remove your panties, so you simply shift them to the side, lifting just enough to accommodate his erect cock beneath you. Your breaths mix together in the space between your heads, eyes riveted down below to where you hovered just above his tip.
The wait is agonizing, but it would ruin the mood to hurt yourself by sheathing him in a rush. So, holding your breath the whole way down, you feel the stretching fullness as his head breaches your entrance and continues on with every inch the rest of the way. The blonde hisses in a breath, and you feel him tense underneath you, doing all he can to resist the temptation to buck up into your enveloping heat. Watching his disappear into you has you dizzy.
Your heart hammers, thumping high up as if in your throat, and you swear you can feel that same rhythmic throbbing from his cock. Then, as you're fully seated upon him, feeling the length twitch and brush something so deep within, you involuntarily clench around him.
Rosinante's hands cling to your hips, fingers digging into the skin and holding you still as he hesitantly ruts once, shallow and gentle, testing your limits. Your name leaves his lips, soft as a prayer and just as reverent. It's a tight sensation, but not uncomfortable. With an encouraging roll of your own hips, pressing down just as he lifts up, you begin to find your rhythm and pace atop his lap.
Slowly at first, lifting no more than an inch, then two. Then faster, confidence rising at Rosinante's expression of relaxed awe and pure lust accompanying it. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, in disbelief that you'd want him this way. Like you were an answer to his dreams.
His hard grasp on your hips will surely leave bruises, fingers latched onto your skin as he helps you to lift and lower back down onto his cock. The added strength helps you keep your pace, thighs working overtime to ride him like he deserved. Together you bounced upon the edge of the bed, kept steady by his legs planted to the floor and your shins braced against the mattress. It quietly squeaked in the spaces that your groans and gasps didn't cover.
Needing leverage to go faster, you push on his shoulders until he fully lay down beneath you. The new angle and position, your hands firmly braced against his strong frame, lets you piston your hips down and back in a furious motion, managing to slide your slit along his shaft over and over.
You're moaning something, but so focused now on chasing your cresting orgasm, it would be impossible to tell what the words were. Whatever they are makes him bite his lip and furrow his brow in pleasure, adjusting his fingers to get a better grip on you.
It's getting so close, you're nearly to that peak, but already you can feel your energy waning. Sweat coats you, skin hot and clammy. As if sensing this, Rosinante's feet plant themselves a bit further apart on the floor, and his hips lift upwards with each of your downward motions, meeting in the middle with the most amount of force possible, sending him as deep as he can be into your heat.
So close, so close...!
His sudden deep, elongated groan shocks you nearly as much as the way he completely stills within you, cock pulsing with each release of seed that comes. Gasping for breath, he pulls you down further, dragging your clit against his pelvis, back and forth, with the full strength of his arms.
Open-mouthed and eyes closed, you shudder atop him as the orgasm hits you with those final few strokes, thighs clenching against his legs to keep you in place. You can feel him groan as your walls squeeze and pulse around his sensitive length, and eventually the high subsides enough to give you enough sense to gain your bearings back.
The room feels 20 degrees hotter, the comforter beneath you twisted and pulled from how it had neatly been folded by the housekeeping staff that afternoon. His pants were technically still on, pooled around his ankles in a heap. Rosinante's tired gaze looked you over from where he lay on the bed, hands still gripping your hips in a loose hold.
You smile gently and, seeing you now looking at him with a bit more clarity, he reaches up to take one of your hands in his, bringing it to his lips to place a gentle kiss on the knuckle. Then, worry glossing over the residual high of his orgasm, he looks back to you.
It's obvious. Already, he was thinking ahead to when you returned from your mission, debriefing in Sengoku's office and beyond when the inevitable next mission would come. Fraternization wasn't looked kindly upon within the ranks, but then again, there were a handful of relationships you could think of that were secretly going on right now.
"No regrets?" Is his timid question, eyes searching yours for the truth.
What a silly man, you think, leaning down closer as your smile widens. With a hum, you kiss him slowly and with no less passion than the one you'd shared on the beach. When you pull back, you press your forehead to his.
"No regrets."
ns 15.158.61.46da2
