m (mminamoto) wrote in ashita_no_yume,
m
mminamoto
ashita_no_yume

as long as you want

[ midori | aki ]





The pool, at this time of night, was quiet, and mostly uninhabited. A few diehards beatled back and forth doing lengths, but Aki wasn't one of them. He totally wasn't one of them.

No, he was one of the people sneaking up on other people, and dropping silently to one knee to touch kisses to three notches of their spines between top piece and bottom piece; to put his hand to their - her - hips, walk fingers up her sides...

And then, with love, push her into the pool.

She was in the middle of typing out a text on a white flip phone, several charms hanging off of the little eyelet at the top, and about halfway through the 'you're late, kimiaki~' he arrived -- at least, Midori assumed it was Aki, because nobody else was quite fresh enough with her to say hello like --

-- suddenly flailing and headed towards the water, Midori squealed in total displeasure. The splash silenced her protests. When she surfaced, wet-headed, the phone was safely put away at pool's edge.

"I never finished your lessons in manners," Minamoto said, pouting appropriately as she rested her arms on the concrete lip. "You don't push girls into pools."

"You're not a girl," Aki told her, and then dove gracefully over her head to drench her a second time. He surfaced, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin to her shoulder. "You're Midori." A kiss followed, and he tugged her back and off the wall with a push of his feet against the ceramic tile.

She squirmed, halfheartedly. A real attempt would've probably secured her freedom in the pool, which wasn't high on Midori's list of priorities. "Midoris aren't to be pushed into pools, either." The pianist informed him sweetly, turning her head to press lips softly under the line of his jaw. "Midoris are to be left in lounge chairs and have drinks with cute umbrellas brought to them until such a time as they see fit to get into the water themselves."

"Midori's shouldn't be standing right next to the pool, then," she was informed, and then turned in Takatsukasan arms to receive a proper, though chaste, kiss. "It's just asking for people to think the wrong things about them." He released her, keeping hold of only one hand. "That swimsuit looks better when it's wet, anyway," he observed, teeth flashing in smirky appreciation.

"You might be biased," she told him warmly, treading water. The pool sat in the courtyard of Midori's apartment complex, an expensive and fairly secluded facility full of wealthy renters. Her roommates were absent. "So I'm not sure I trust your opinion."

"Who else are you going to trust in this place?" Her companion enquired, and slid under the water, leaving go of her hand to tickle at her stomach with more 'fresh' habits. He resurfaced, dripping, and beckoned to her with a small splash of water. "Activity, beautiful," he said. "Let's get some activity."

"I think Takahashi-san would be very disappointed to know you don't respect her taste in fashion," Midori murmured, gesturing to some woman swimming down on the far end of the pool -- one of those last holdouts for fitness, and one of her neighbors. She splashed him, the wave going over his head, and then ducked under the water. Activity, that.

"I'm not looking at Takahashi-san," Aki quipped, although he did just that, and winced through the wave Midori sent towards him. "Why did you make me look at that?" He asked, plaintively. "I'd rather look at this!" He slid his fingers beneath the horizontal hem of her bikini top. "Especially if it means activity."

"You're the one who suggested swimming," Midori informed him, threading her fingers through his to get them safely away from all hems, top or bottom. A slight smile curled her lips. "You haven't been in for very long. Done so soon?" Perfectly innocent, she let go of him and dropped under the pool's surface again -- swimming away before that point got recovered by the opposite team.

"Are you attacking my stamina?" Aki accused, and chased after her. He caught her with a pouncing dunk, and then swept her carefully against the pool's wall. "Because we can put a stop to that right now." His grin was infectious, challenging, boyish and lighthearted. His fingers, though, weren't about to let her escape.

"You said it," replied the Elite, with a contemplative tilt to her head as if those fingers weren't the slightest bit distracting to her thought processes. Glossy nails drummed across a bare shoulder. "But I've heard you're on the soccer team, so obviously you must be a little fit. Either that or school tradition is going to really go downhill this year..."

"Aren't girlfriends supposed to support their handsome heroes through their times of trial and activity?" Aki's eyebrow lifted, quizzically, and he lifted her to sit on the side of the pool, arms draped over her legs. "What happened to that part of our relationship?"

"There's a handsome hero here?" Midori's palms rested behind her as she leaned back somewhat, looking around the pool area in search of said champion. "Where?" Her eyes made the rounds and landed back on the boy still in the pool, brimming with mischief. "I just see an Aki."

"Oh that guy?" Aki's eyes also swept the pool. "You always talk about that guy. I should go beat that screwball up for being in your thoughts so often." He scowled. "No room for him in this fuckin' crowd."

"Oh, don't do that." Midori grinned, flicking a thumb across the downward curve of his frown, entirely playful. Her smile widened. "I'll stop if it bothers you so much."

"Hm, it depends. If you really kinda like him, you know, I might be persuaded to let you go be with him." The boy pulled a grin up towards the girl. "But you'd have to really, really like him."

"I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings," the elite replied thoughtfully, dropping the one hand to rest on his shoulder. "It's good," she decided with a grin, "that I don't have to, hm?"

"Mm," Aki agreed, and hoisted himself out of the pool to sit next to her. "Could do with a drink," he mused. "What have they got going here?"

Leaning against the Socialite's shoulder, Midori tugged on her hair, wringing out the excess water from the strands. "The refridgerator in my apartment," she informed him smartly -- the stock of which was mostly filled by her roommates, since Midori rarely drank. It was too late for any of the services the complex offered. "And a little place down the street, but I've never been." Read: would also have to change clothes, et cetera.

"Upstairs, then," he said, reaching to smooth down the damp strands of her hair with the palm of his hand. Despite his words, Aki didn't seem to be in any great hurry to move, content to sit with his arm around her shoulders, fingers dangling from clavicle.

Neither was Midori, though she did cast a glance towards the row of lounge chairs off to the right with something of a halfsmile. "My coverup's over there," she murmured -- so were two neatly folded towels and a pair of metallic flipflops.

A shower of drops slid from the pool as Aki rose, further, to stand. He didn't move far away, instead collecting up Midori's coverup, and spilling it over her shoulders as he sat back down. "I think the drink can wait a while," he observed.

She pulled the coverup on, turning to press her lips to the curve of his shoulder after in passing thanks. Midori's feet, still in the water, swung back and forth slightly; reaching back, her fingers rested against the base of his skull, rubbing the back of his neck. "As long as you want," she agreed.
Tags: aki, kimiaki, midori
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