Sex Bucket List • Tokyo revengers

Part 3 - Chapter 7

Rindou drove a black Ferrari, because of course he fucking did. I still didn't know who his boss was, nor what kind of job him, his brother and Sanzu did exactly, but I was starting to suspect that they didn't have a normal 9-to-5 job.

Rindou and I had been silent for a few minutes now. The rain was still pattering against the car windows as we sped uptown, making the silence in the car almost deafening.

I stiffened when his forearm brushed against my thigh which he noticed, the corner of his lips ever so slightly tipping up. 

"Relax." Tilting his head to catch my gaze, he held my eyes as he reached a hand to turn on the heater. "I just don't want you to get cold, 'kay?"

It's crazy how a few simple words brought me back so fast to a memory we shared. 

One night. Five years ago. It was raining as heavily as it was today. It was the day he paid for my morning-after pill, draped his jacket over my head to shield me from the rain, and then took care of me with his brother in their apartment. The day he became more than just a name on my sex bucket list, and I more than just a girl he'd enjoyed having sex with.

"I didn't make you nervous like that before." He thought out loud, bringing his gaze back to the road.

You did, I wanted to reply. You always did. You just never noticed.

While I always felt calm and at peace whenever I was with Mitsuya, being with Rindou made my heartbeat pick up a pace and my stomach twist, and sometimes I couldn't even tell if it was the best or worst sensation I had ever experienced. I just never knew which Rindou I would get. The one who killed a man, enjoyed breaking people's joints and liked to tease me about my relationship with my boyfriend. Or the one who asked me on a date, paid for my morning-after pill, and comforted me after Baji's death-

"Why did you never reply to my letters?" He asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

"What?" I was so surprised that the word came out scarcely above a whisper. 

"Every week." He flicked a slow gaze at me, his eyes pinning me to my leather seat with their intensity. "I wrote you a letter every week."

His Adam apple bopped up and down as he swallowed, and my eyes followed the movement, my breathing turning ragged as the atmosphere in the car turned thick with tension.

"At first, I thought that maybe you just didn't have time to answer it." He continued, looking back at the road. "Then I thought that maybe my writing sucked." He gave his head a small shake, his breath exhaling on a humorless laugh. "Honestly, it probably did."

My eyes travelled down his forearms and to his hands as they gripped the wheel a little harder, his veins bulging.

"But I'd never written a fucking letter before." He went on, a mixture of bitterness and fake amusement seeping through his tone. "I'd never had anyone I wanted to write to until you." He paused, taking a breath as he turned his head to the window on his left. "So I asked my cellmate, Aizen. He was a smart kid. Way smarter than me and locked up for something he hadn't done. I swallowed my fucking pride and asked him to check the grammar and spelling mistakes."

I stared at the side of his face as he looked in front of him again. His body was giving mixed signals while he spoke, as if part of him liked to relive those memories: the friendship with his cellmate and the hopeful doubts about my silence. While the other part of him already knew what happened after, that he'd never get a reply from me, and he did not want to go through that pain again. But he clenched his jaw, gripped the wheel a little harder, and forced himself to continue.

"And then I sent you one last letter. I wrote everything I was dying to tell you face to face but couldn't. And... I never got any answer." He finished right as he was pulling up in front of my house. 

My throat tightened as he turned off the ignition, knowing that a confrontation was inevitable. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him turn to me, one of his hands still gripping the wheel, and I mirrored his position, turning my head to him, my eyes finding his in the darkness.

The whole situation was confusing. We both had a reason to be resentful as we were both convinced the other hadn't reached out for five years. I never got his letters, and he never got mine. Rindou and I were the types of people who were always honest even if it hurt, especially him. So why would I or he be lying about this?

The rain pummeled his car, the drops on the windshield blurring the outside world. Just him and me. 

His chest heaved with a labored breath as he reached a hand towards mine in my lap, but I pulled away. I can't.

"Wait!" He called out to me as I flung the door open and jumped out of his car.

I heard his door open and slam shut while I sprinted to my house. With trembling hands, I fished out my keys, opened the front door and tried to slam it shut behind me, but Rindou slid his foot between the door and the wall before I could.

"Leave me alone!" I shouted. 

He easily pushed the door open, and I stumbled back as he entered my house, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Let's have this talk now."

"No!"

I took another step away from him but he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. 

"Rindou!"

I thrashed in his arms, beating my fists against his back while he carried me into my living room.

He laid me down on my sofa and kneeled between my legs, caging me in by bracing his hands on either side of my head. I quickly stopped beating my fists against his shoulders when I realized he wouldn't budge until we'd had that conversation.

"I never got your letters." I panted, exhausted by the fight I'd tried to put up.

"Would you have waited for me if you had?" He breathed out.

"Don't..." I begged, my eyes falling closed. "Don't make me answer this question. I'm with Mitsuya and I love him. You have to leave me alone, leave us alone."

"I would if he made you fucking happy!" He shouted, and I peeled my eyes open, searching his in fast clicks.

Gazing down at me, he exhaled hard. "Fuck. I can't even lie to you."

My body was completely frozen under him as he buried his face in my neck.

"I wouldn't leave you alone even if he did make you happy and even if I was the worst person for you." He confessed against my skin. "I'm that selfish." 

His breath and hair tickled my skin as he trailed slow kisses up my neck. One, two, three, until his lips had reached my earlobe. 

"I'm that fucking crazy about you. I always have been." He grunted.

This was torture: our bodies inching to get closer and my skin humming, eager to respond to his touch while I held on to my last bit of restraint. 

My fingers curled against his abdomen as his hands skimmed the outside of my thighs. He lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, pressing kisses up my jaw.

"Rindou, stop." My plea was as half-hearted as my desire for him to get away from me.

He was ready to break Mitsuya and I's perfect bubble the same way he broke his opponent's arms and legs: without any remorse. But I wasn't willing to let him just yet.

Threading my fingers through his hair, I tugged on his locks, forcing him to look at me.

"Were you lying earlier?" I asked. "About Mitsuya and Yuzuha. I need to know."

He parted his lips to answer but we paused when we heard a key being inserted into the lock of the front door. Then the door opened.

"Babe, I'm home!"