The eighth
Raph had told Yuko when they would arrive at the hotel where they’d be staying for the next two nights, and had taken care to be sure she could go up to the room whenever she arrived, whether they'd checked in yet or not. After much deliberation, however, Yuko decided to go to the airport to surprise them instead. If there was traffic, they’d lose precious minutes while Raph sat in it, but it didn’t matter if they were on the same bus where she could see them and chat with them and, most importantly, touch them.
As she stood at the gateway outside of arrivals watching for them, however, she suddenly got nervous. What if this was being way too clingy? What if they weren’t as excited as she was? They’d never seen her in a dress. Was a dress trying too hard? Was it too girly? She was looking at her polished toes in her little peep-toe wedges and debating whether to bail and head for the hotel before they realized that she’d shown up at LaGuardia like a crazy girlfriend when she was suddenly clean-and-jerked right off the ground. She yelped, but her lizard brain recognized Raph before she got too far along in the process of deciding to head butt her captor.
“Why are you so nervous?” Raph demanded, setting her down and then giving her a kiss like oxygen and sunlight and clean water and sustenance. “What’s wrong?”
Yuko bit her lip. Oh, so they weren’t even going to get out of the airport before they got emotionally nude? On the phone, Raph's mindreading superpowers were semi-hampered, and she’d convinced herself that she’d imagined their uncanny ability to read her. Busted. She wasn’t even going to bother to try and salvage her pride. They’d know if she bullshitted them. Bullshat them? “Well, I came here because I wanted to ride back into Manhattan with you in case there was traffic or something, and then you’d be delayed and we’d miss out on some time together.”
“I’m thrilled! You look incredible, by the way. You smell incredible and you feel incredible, too. C’mon let’s go, I can’t wait to get you alone. You can tell me why you were nervous while we walk." They stopped and bent to kiss her one more time. "It’s so good to see you—I missed you so much.” Raph linked their fingers and tugged her along, and she went along with them as meekly as if it were her first time in an airport and she needed a guide. When she saw they were heading in the wrong direction, however, she spoke up.
“We should go that way for the M60 bus,” she said pointing. "Unless you want to get a cab or Uber?"
“My client sends a car. Well, his assistant does, I’m sure.”
“Oh,” said Yuko, pleasantly surprised. “Well, ok, then.”
“So? Nervous? Why?” Raph prompted.
She'd kind of hoped they would forget about that. No such luck. “Well, now I’m nervous because I have to tell you why I was nervous, but before, I was nervous because I was suddenly afraid you’d think I was being too intense. Showing up at the airport instead of at the hotel like we’d agreed, I mean. Like I was being smother-y and presumptuous.”
“Ah. That’s nuts. Of course I want every possible second I can get with you. This was a great surprise. If I’d known you had the time and didn’t mind, I’d have asked the driver to pick you up on the way in. Manny’s great, if it’s Manny. Usually is. Anyway, it seemed like a big ask, because you’re busy. I can get to the hotel without inconveniencing you, and it would have seemed smother-y and presumptuous of me to ask you to come meet me.”
Raph waved at a man in a black suit and black tie and steered her over to a car with backwards doors and a very forward price point. She’d ridden in a variety of nice cars, but this was the ne plus ultra of luxury vehicles. “Sorry,” they murmured, “this plutocrat-mobile is kind of embarrassing, especially for a person with my politics, but my client insists. It is very comfortable, I’ll give it that.”
Yuko, who was less high-minded, felt like she could sustain the embarrassment of riding in this car, moreover she was very curious to see what it was like inside. Raph reached out and shook the driver's hand in greeting. “Hey, Manny. This is my girlfriend Yuko Saito, Yuko this is Manny Giordano who has to drive all the way to Brooklyn to fetch me every month, sometimes twice.”
Yuko almost swallowed her tongue at ‘girlfriend,’ but she smiled at Manny and held out a hand as if people other than Nachelle called her that everyday. As if Raph did. “Nice to meet you, Manny.”
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Saito. Any friend of Raph's..." Manny took her hand and gave her a warm smile, and then opened the back door so she could slide directly into the lap of glossy, ostentatious luxury. He closed it behind her and then took Raph’s carry-on and stowed it as they strolled around and let themself in on the far side of the car before Manny could make it there to open it for them.
“I got it, Manny. No worries.”
Manny looked heavenward, used to this fiercely-independent routine, apparently, and slid in behind the driver’s seat. Meanwhile, Yuko eyeballed the interior as subtly as she could manage, but there were so many insane details to take in that she was pretty sure her swiveling head was noticeable. She’d ridden in plenty of very expensive cars before, as they were often the first way station on the road to conspicuous success for finance dude bros, and she had been surrounded by finance dude bros for most of her career. Yuko had never given a shit about cars, so her big splash-out had not been a luxury vehicle but the luxury of a body she felt totally at home in. The costs were comparable, but she thought a body she loved was the wiser long-term investment. Of course, now she worked with fewer dude bros and more clients who liked to give out “old money” vibes, so she rode in more vintage Jags and slightly lived-in looking Range Rovers and G-Class SUVs. Cars that said 'this old thing? We've had it for ages!' This conveyance, however, had a “so much money that you didn’t have to give a fuck what people thought about you or the provenance of your money” energy. Possibly even “Foreign Royalty” energy. This was a new tier for her.
Looking into the rearview mirror, Manny addressed Raph. “Mr. Cooper, since you have company to talk with, you wouldn’t mind if I raised the divider would you? I’m right in the middle of a new episode of my favorite podcast and I wouldn’t want to disturb you. This new model has an opaque, soundproof divider wall. You can press the button if you need to talk to me about anything at all, of course. There are some snacks and drinks in the console for you two. The ride may take a while because of the traffic. I’ll let you know when we’re five minutes out.”
“Raph, Manny. Raph. And of course I don’t mind. Happy listening. Thanks for the snacks, too,” said Raph, meeting a pair of twinkling eyes in the rearview as Manny slid the frosted glass divider up. So he could ‘listen to his podcast’. Manny didn’t accept tips, but he was going to get a very nice bottle of something or some Knicks tickets before Raph left town.
“No problem!” said Manny, and disappeared completely.
“Well, he’s an unbelievably good wingman,” said Yuko. Having already noticed with satisfaction that the windows were completely opaque from the outside, Yuko climbed onto Raph’s lap, not interested in wasting any of their time together. It was just after five on a weekday in the city. Safe to say they would not be involved in any high-speed accidents. Fender benders she was willing to chance just this once, especially since this car probably had structural integrity that was comparable to a tank.
“You read my mind. Now come here,” said Raph, and wrapped a hand around her neck, pulling her down for a kiss. Their lips met and she sighed happily as she surfed a cresting wave of oxytocin. Their taste was exactly as delicious as she’d remembered it, exactly what she’d craved for eleven very long days. Their lips were even better than she’d remembered them, soft and firm at once. As Raph’s tongue slid into her mouth, their hand slid up her thigh and under her fancy designer shirtdress, she held her breath because she knew something Raph didn’t know.
“Yuko!” groaned Raph as they wrapped a hand around her bare ass and pulled her forward against the sizeable ridge in the front of their pants and lifted their hips to press themself against her with a pronounced ‘nnh.’ What could she say? She was a fan of efficiency. Her fingers flew to the buttons on the front of her dress. Four. Four was the number of undone buttons needed to let the dress slip off her shoulders and down to her waist. She’d checked before she’d left the house. She had all four buttons undone in under six seconds and Raph had their face buried in the side of her neck as she opened the neckline of the dress and let it fall. Efficiency. She hoped they liked—
“What the fuck are you wearing, Yuko?!” they panted, glaring at the Thistle & Spire technically-a-bra that used strap elastic and a little lace and hopes and prayers to keep itself from surrendering to entropy as it served up eighty-five percent of her breasts without any fabric interference. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Maybe,” she confirmed, pleased that they were taking the bra so hard. Because she had missed them. A lot. A whole lot. Way more than she should have. Way more than she was comfortable with. And she wanted them. A whole lot. And she wanted to know that she was not alone in that. “I missed you, too. A lot. I also missed this. I missed you inside me.”
“You are trying to kill me, then.”
“Am I? I have the means to save your life in my purse, I believe. Hand it to me?” she requested, leaning sideways to do things to Raph’s ear as they blindly patted around for her little straw clutch, opened it with one hand, and then withdrew a strip of condoms and small bottle of lube.
“Here?” they panted against her neck. “You sure?”
There were sounds that indicated that there were cars immediately beside them as well as in front of them and in back of them. Their car, although outfitted with a very forgiving suspension, jostled enough each time it passed over a pothole, a seam in a bridge, or an overpass that Yuko could foresee balance issues, and about five opaque, soundproof feet away, Manny was currently ‘listening to his podcast,’ but that could obviously change. It was probably not the time or the place for sex.
“Absolutely, yes. Totally sure," she said, because sometimes, waiting for a better time and place just wasn't an option.
In an economical series of movements, Raph was buried inside her and she sighed so fully from the combination of pleasure and relief that she ruffled their hair with the breeze of it.
“Yuko,” they moaned quietly. “Yuko, come closer. I can’t stand being apart from you.” Raph wrapped their arms around her and crushed her to them as they lifted their hips to push even deeper, hitting every good place inside her and grinding against the good places outside of her, and she felt her labia and clit getting slick and slippery for them and her head dropped back, pushing her chest forward. They yanked two centimeters of lace a little further out of the way and latched onto her nipple with a happy mmph, sucking so hard she had to bite the heel of her hand so she wouldn’t scream, not quite trusting the divider to block out all sound. In an out-of-body experience, she pictured them both there, their shared hunger, the rolling grind of their hips as they pushed themselves together. She imagined the sight of their hands wrapped around her ass and her lower back, pressing her against them. She pulled Raph’s hair away from their face so she could see it as they suckled her, and it was so lovely to watch that she bit down even harder on her hand as an orgasm crashed into her and swept her away. Was this what they meant by 'energy like whitewater'? No wonder they liked it.
Raph had paused so they could enjoy her climax together, but if Raph was feeling like she'd been feeling, she didn’t want to keep them waiting. She released her poor hand from her teeth and caught Raph’s face in her hands and kissed them, converting eleven days’ worth of suffering into clean-burning fuel for their fire as she pressed down onto them and rolled her hips again, still twitching and purring. The kiss was the final straw for Raph. Lifting their hips to press deep and join their bodies as fully possible, panting against her mouth as their cock jerked inside her in time to the rough sounds they made, Raph came. Hard. Yes, on second thought, she thought maybe she could feel their piercings just a little and she liked.
For a couple of minutes, they stayed pressed together, each trying to catch their breath enough to talk. Finally, they got there. "Missed you so much,” they both said, in perfect unison.
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