Actions

Work Header

I wanna be touched (by your touch)

Work Text:


“Did you know?” a voice had awoken Yor’s senses and snapped her back to reality amidst her reverie. She quietly turns to the group of three, busily talking amongst themselves regarding the latest rumor and gossip about the so-called creepy ‘Chief.’ Despite the many times she’s heard their stories, she still was unable to pry her ears away from their idle chatter since curiosity always got to the best of her. 

She knew very well that they would ask her questions every now and then and seemingly let her join their discussionwhatever it may be. 

Only for the sake of not being suspicious. 

“My boyfriend and I had lots of fun last night!” 

She could already hear Sharon’s sigh of disappointment and visualize Camilla’s saddened pout upon hearing Millie speak of her boyfriend and the loads of shopping they did for the past few weeks over and over again—now that they know of her getting back with him after their recent breakup. She could even feel their cold, piercing stares as they divert their attention towards her. Losing interest entirely in Millie’s tale and more curious to hear hers. 

“Yor!”

And now that they know of her being a ‘married’ young woman, of course, they wouldn’t let the slightest news about her and her ‘family’ slip so easily. Especially without knowing its full detail.

“I’ve nearly forgotten you were standing there!” chirped Camilla over Millie’s back-turned shoulder. “Come, come! Join us!” She strides her way toward where Yor stood and pushed her over to the two women who scanned them with their very own attentive pupils.  

“Bummer you didn’t tell us much about your handsome husband!” Millie beams, ever optimistic. “Tell us more, please! We know so little of him except when he did happen to show up and attend the party last Saturday! He even defended you! I was stunned to see such a well-mannered stance, hehe!”

Sharon puffed smoke from her cigarette, standing turned away and glancing at the window. Camilla crossed her arms in utter amusement and raised a brow. On the other hand, Millie clapped her hands in excitement. They all stared. Watching. Waiting. 

“Um,” Yor pressed her lips into a thin line, eyes slim and catlike. “You… You want to know about Loid?”

Camilla waved a hand, chuckling at her timidity, “Of course we do, Yor. He must be someone extra special if you had to keep your marriage a secret from us~”

“That-!” she stops herself even before she manages to finish the sentence. “Well… I…”

They ogled at her for an entire period. But Yor decides to break the silence by saying something quite irrelevant—

"He’s a psychiatrist!” 

They all blinked at once.

Yor bites her lip, realizing that the three seemed unimpressed with such a dry comment. It was easy to notice that they had begun composing their own theories, judging by the stern and confused expressions they were giving her. They were her co-workers even! Anyone would’ve found it questionable if a married woman answers a query regarding her husband with something as trivial and as brief as his occupation! They say it is heavily likely that their marriage were to fall apart if the couple barely knew about each other—thus, their relationship would appear fishy if they still manage to stay together!

The three would've already noted the trembling gasp she drew in between their stiffened silence. 

That unbearable, deafening silence. 

“How come you don’t sound so sure, Yor?”—until Sharon took notice of her.

“Well, we do know that,” whined Camilla as she lazily fluttered her fingers and tossed a side of her blonde curls away. She then clamps a hand to the side of her mouth, leaning closer to Millie and Sharon, most likely making mocking comments about Yor, who couldn’t do anything else but recoil and avoid their eyes. Camilla peers, gaze unpitying yet envious. ”Is she really married to that attractive blonde man!? I’m beginning to have my suspicions. She clearly doesn’t know much about him! Loid was his name, wasn’t it?”

And even before she could stop herself, Yor stepped in front of them and said, “I… I introduced him to Yuri yesterday, too." Altogether, as though practically well-rehearsed, their eyes widened in shock and surprise. 

Yor bit back a smile of triumph. 

She wasn’t lying, however—Yuri and Loid did meet shortly after Camilla’s party last Saturday, followed by a series of chaotic events with her left drunk and clueless, Yuri sent home with his face swollen and bleeding, and Loid having to clean up the leftover dirty work for them. 

That was until—

—she remembered the exact moment she nearly kissed Loid Forger. 

And with that memory vividly clear to her, her very own face reddens.

‘Would that be a topic they’d like to hear?’ she thought, internally. ‘But we never ended up doing it—’ Oh, how she wished to slap herself awake from her daydreaming about doing such an uncivil act. Uncivil? Some part of her opined in disagreement. Kissing? Really?

Yet again, her mind argued, ‘But won’t it be likely to draw attention if a married couple never kissed at all? We might eventually be investigated by officials regarding our forged family and… I won’t be able to continue my job as an assassin! What’s the importance of such a deed anyway?’

“Yoo~rrr~” sang Millie, punctuating Yor’s thoughts to a pause, making her look up shyly at the three. 

“A-Ah, sorry I was-! Yes?” 

“Hehe! Silly Yor!” Millie giggled. “You’ve been saying the word ‘kiss’ for one whole minute!” Then her expression shifted to that of mirth, its lilt dimming as she leans closely to Yor whilst offering her a small sly and cheeky grin. “Did something happen?~”

She could lie. Whip up some far-fetched tale of what a young married couple would do—

And despite how every inch of her resisted to accept the truth, she answers too quickly, “It's nothing, haha! D-Don't worry about it!"  

What a terrible liar she is.

“Aww, c’mon, Yor,” Camilla cheers, a smile—which Yor had difficulty in deciphering whether to be fake or genuine—playing on the tips of her lips, with her eyes dark and dull of amber. “You can tell us!”

Yor’s lower lip quivered as the wheels in her head spun continuously, “Well…”

Truthfully, she wished to tell them more. A lot more. 

But, what was there for her to discuss?

“However,” she said instead, crimson irises hardening with determination. "I might need some help."

The three only stare, perplexed. 

And when they said nothing, Yor asks them, expression rich with innocence and novelty—“How does one kiss?”


Yor was a terrible liar.

And most certainly was it a terrible idea to seek advice from her scathing associates. Instead of arriving home with an empty mind, restful after a long day’s work, Yor still felt so restless about the ridiculous ‘kissing’ concept which plagued her mind since the very morning of her shift. This was inexplicably due to the so-called ‘extra sophisticated’ discussion she had with the three. 

They really didn’t have to go that far into detail for her to imagine it—but with their graphic representations and well-composed scenarios? Now able to picture it all, she was especially conclusive that she would be unable to have a relaxing and soothing sleep for the night after what she had discovered—

And how she wished to bury herself in a hole whilst remaining seated on the couch, with Loid sitting mere inches away from her, clueless of the waging war going on in her head. 

Aiming to break the silence, Yor blurts out a question along with an added comment, “How was work? I hope there weren’t many problematic patients for you to deal with?” She shifted awkwardly on the opposite side of the loveseat, hoping to shoo her concerning number of thoughts about Loid.

Yor can’t even name a single reason as to why she suddenly decided to strike up a conversation with him, considering the fact that they wouldn’t converse together other than times when it required tending to his daughter’s needs.  

Luckily he replies to her with impressive casualty, saving her the trouble of wondering in doubt if she had spoken at the wrong time, “Quite the contrary, actually. Fairly few patients attended the appointments I scheduled for today. Nothing worth mentioning except for one patient who complained about the inefficiency of the antibiotics I recommended. (My mission was slightly compromised due to the excessive damage it caused running into a few enemies. I took care of them eventually.)

Yor nods in response, “I see. And Anya?"

"Ah," he seemed to have considered her question for a moment before answering. "She requested to sleepover with a friend of hers. Not to worry, I did have someone reliable assigned to look after her while we work. (And by 'someone reliable' he meant Franky and approximately fifty WISE agents stationed outside the Blackwell residence—plus a hundred, that is.) If any misfortune comes, I have their registered address memorized for faster contact. Just in case."

Yor lets out a furtive chuckle hearing him informally address the matter. She then turns away from him, grateful to have a quick yet short conversation with him for the first time. 

At the very least, she was blessed with having to deal with less responsibility for the time being—knowing that Anya won’t be home for now. But without the young girl by her side, she had never felt so alone at such a time she most definitely needed company. Even she found it difficult to approach Loid now, with her mind occupied with the etched features of his face. From his calculating eyes and arched eyebrows, to his modestly shaped nose and gentle lips curled with that ravishing, diplomatic smile—

“Yor?”

Crap. Did he catch her staring?

"Loid?" she mutters in return. With a tone so soft—so careful, savoring the way his name rolled off her tongue, thwarting the rising urge to look past him, and simply—assess him. That’s if she wishes to humiliate herself further.

Until she later realizes that it was him asking about her uneasy behavior, noticing that his gaze held one of concern and questioning.

‘Should I tell him?’

Yor bites her lip in frustration, failing to compose herself completely.

The blonde man had averted his gaze over to hers, eyes watchful and also filled with that charming hint of curiosity about what she would be asking of him. A little while earlier he managed to take notice of her stealing sharp glances at him and hesitantly clasping her hands together whenever she’d look the other direction. Although, he didn't mind. Purely because he assumed that she was simply just aggravated over her work and needed rest. 

He had subconsciously selected a handful of several ways she'd habitually face this, observing her and taking note of her usual movements when she’d occasionally react similarly on specific days. But not once did he think she would turn to him and confront him about her personal predicaments. Now Loid—not wanting to frighten her and easily show his interest towards the subject—gently sets down the newspaper he was supposedly reading, inserting it between the arm and velvety cushion of their couch. He then gives Yor a light tap on her shoulder, prompting her to continue. 

But she didn't.

“Is something bothering you?” he was forced to ask her, gaze narrowing and spurious. And as though his ocean blue irises held that questionable amount of pressure on her, the tighter her lips remained shut. Yet they had betrayed her too easily before she even managed to compose a small excuse—

“Um,” she mumbles beneath her breath, mind blanking entirely. But her desire to say his name again, feeling the warm sensation that crept into her, had overrun her ability to think as much as speak, “Loid...”

Would he end up avoiding her, if she tells him this? 

“Can I kiss you?”

It was beyond her belief with how she was able to supply the courage she needed to ask such an absurd question, without the slightest stutter nor slur to her words. After finally letting it out with one swift heave of a sigh, her ears puffed a bright shade of red. 

In the twenty-seven years she’s lived, kissing was sensibly a trivial form of expression to her. Nothing but a strange means to deliver affection to someone… special. However, her duty as an assassin gave her no moment to seek and learn about mere things. But after hearing about all the sort of things it can make one feel and do by none other than those tattling colleagues of hers? Yor realized she wanted to know more of how it felt like. Experience it. As though she craved it more than anyone.

And because it was Loid

He didn’t reply directly and instantly, which made her worry a bit. But by the time he does so, Yor felt her heart stutter, his tone not insistent nor wavering, “What?”

And her heart stops. For a moment—one mere moment. And Yor has never felt such a difficult time than to gasp for air, out of breath. She realizes later that she can't seem to find it in herself to look up and gaze at his eyes.

“Can…” she breathes her next words. “Can I kiss you?” 

He blinks. As though requesting to hear her confirmation more than once. Multiple times. Infinite times if she must. Internally questioning a dozen questions he wanted to ask but he then settled for a brief and hesitant, “Why?”—barely leaving his lips in a faint whisper.

But Loid was certain that he would still fail to comprehend it all. 

“F-For practice, of course!”

Yor saw how his ocean blue pupils surveyed her, making some part of her shrink into herself, overwhelmed with this. Everything. And him. Yet she answers him again, hoping to reassure him. “A-As you know, it would seem strange for a married couple to have less public display of affection and... Just in case—”

She chewed down her lower lip, "...I-I think it'd be best if we, you know, manage to k-kiss each other in front of others—L-Like Yuri!" She frowned upon realizing that she tumbled on the word 'kiss,' despite uttering it earlier more than once. 

It took everything in her to resist smiling at that startled widening of his eyes at the remark, flustered. But he doesn’t say anything, looking anywhere but her. The thread of stiff silence lay frozen in between them—suffocating her.

“I-It's okay if you don't want!” But her voice begged, and yearned. Her gaze longed and starved. “I-I apologize for m-making you feel awkward—and all.”

He made no movement to refute, nor did he give her a response of assertion. But deep inside, he prayed she wouldn't hear the almost loud and audible drop of—somethingin his chest as it sank deeper to the pit of his stomach. His gaze darted elsewhere, expression unreadable; conflicted.

For the mission, his mind urged. Until he replies very urgently:

“Yes.”

That was the one word she needed to hear. 

Yes. 

Then something soft and wet touched the very crown of his head, stunning him to the point of silence. 

And without even permitting him to think for a mere millisecond, she then moves, kissing the surface of his pale forehead—his voice long gulped down his throat. Its delicate warmth descended affectionately to the tip of his nose, side of his cheek and the very edge of his lips. Her mouth—sweet and tender—fondled with his smooth, pearly skin.

But she simply pulled away.

Warmth enveloped him with welcoming arms. The lingering touch of her pecks on the bridge of his nose lit him aflame. And he ignores how his eyes traced at the silken flesh of her shoulder blades, the sleeve of her off-shoulder velvet dress slipping off with such grace, making him choke back a groan of defeat. 

Yor watched him with that careful gaze of hers. As though to taunt. To tease.

Her lips, fresh and damp from their kiss, parted. 

"Sorry..." she asked, her thumb ghosting the side of his jaw as it hovered above his skin. "W-Was I too fast f-for you?" 

No. He wanted to tell her, but then some part of him refused to resume any of this and entertain the mere idea of kissing her. And he understood why he seemed suddenly diffident about it. That was because he wasn't doing this as Loid Forger. He was a spy. The adept Agent Twilight, for god's sake! One mustn't get too attached and affected by his emotions unless it were a means to gain and benefit information one way or another!—

He makes a double take, thoughts coming to an abrupt halt as a realization hit him regarding why he was justifying himself. 

Why the hell did he even care? 

Yor should simply be another woman to him. Someone useful to maintain his cover while fulfilling his initial mission. But why had his heartbeats sped when she asked if she could kiss him? Why had he blushed when he caught sight of the side of her dress falling as though baiting a reaction from him? And most importantly, why did his heart drop when she said it was for practice and nothing more?

He, certainly, didn't care anymore. 

"T-That—" he glanced back at her, realizing that he had fallen on his back on the couch and Yor’s maintained stance on top of him, who was surprised to hear him talk. He gulps, evidently regretting his decision, but going with the flow, anyway. "That's not the proper way to do it."

Immediately understanding what he meant, she crawls away from him whilst clumsily offering her pardons, "I-I didn't intend t-to have you on your back. I-I'm s-so sorry!"

Instead of accepting her apology with a verbal form of response, he drew closer to cup her cheek deciding not to go rough on her. Yor, who didn't expect him to do this, flinches.

"U-Um, how do I—?"

"Here," he guided her hands to rest on the crook of his neck. She nodded along with his words of instruction, eager to learn from him.

Yor lifts her gaze up to his face, now seeing it slightly painted with a shy blush. If she were being honest, she found him correcting her and teaching her the so-called 'proper' method quite… endearing, noting how his little movements held that unsure reluctance whilst he bashfully dipped his head to meet hers. Compared to her, he was more lenient rather than vicious. 

She stills as she felt his hands close in on her face. The quicker her heartbeats raced as their clothed chests touched. The heat radiating from him burned her cheeks that she practically melted into him. His hands. His breath. His every touch. 

Then he moves, leaning ever so closer with such stealth and leisure that her breath hitched. But Yor wasn't one to hold her patience too effortlessly and she wished nothing less than to have his lips—on hers.

He was so close. So so close. Yet so far from her reach. 

Which was why Yor had taken a step further in, closing the distance between them and finally pressing her mouth against his with one, brisk scoot. 

Yor had never expected his lips to be this soft. So light. And frail. Even the warmest of summers are incomparable to this. The taste of his lips reminded her of the richness and sweetness of a honey’s glaze. A sweetener she'd every so often add to his coffee, prepared whether by night or by day. Its sugary scent mixed with the faint fragrance of his perfume, intoxicating her and clouding her senses. 

She almost loses all it takes for reasoning when she feels him reciprocating her kiss. With his trembling hands coming to brush the black tresses away from her neck. The little way he blushed at the display of her skin made her shudder at his cross gaze, suddenly shy.

They took a brief pause to catch their breaths, breaking the kiss apart, despite either not wanting to. Yet it hadn't even reached two seconds that passed until Yor captured his lips on hers again. Pressing, nipping, biting, licking. She smiles between their kisses, successful in eliciting very low and breathless groans from him as she continues relishing and basking in the flavor of his lips with pure liberty and bliss. Lost. Astray. 

And forgetting. 

With the two barely caught up with their surroundings and lost in each other's heated presence, they failed to notice how their bodies were placed against the other. Yor on top of him and his arms wrapped around her waist to support her underneath. But with each passing second and the strengthening tension between them, the position they were in didn’t last for too long since they had unexpectedly tipped over on the couch. Unable to maintain their balance. With Yor now pinning Loid down on his back by digging her nails into his wrist whilst pressing her lips into him. Harder and closer. Rougher and tenser. 

His own lips trailed off her own now, gliding down to her neck. Kissing her there repetitively. Gently. And softly.

But Yor didn't want to be the only one pleasuring herself. And so she pulls away from him, craning her head upwards as his fingertips brushed the small of her back.

She drew closer, tilting his head up and slowly kissing that cold crook of his neck, biting down at his skin and licking it afterwards to soothe his inaudible grunt of both pain and thrill, making him breathe into her. Sweating. Panting. 

Alas, Yor collapses on top of him. But she couldn't ignore the pain of disappointment that lapsed in her upon realizing that this was just a mere practice. A pang of guilt swelled in her, with the present memory of his breath whispering against her skin, the feel of his lips on hers—fantasizing her, enchanting her. And she knew she would be asking for too much if she crosses the border they've both set. 

“Than—” she mumbled to him with bated breath, clearly exhausted and drunk off of kissing him. “Thank you." For this. 

He chuckles, stroking her head as she nuzzled into him, drinking in her warmth. “I… I don't mind.”

And she giggles, mumbling something Loid failed to catch, closing her eyes. 

Seeing that sincere smile of contentment on Yor’s lips, only now Loid was able to perceive the spotless beauty she possessed. From her bold, dark bangs swaying against the top of her head, despite being disheveled and messy because of their encounter. Her face a blazing pink. But to him, she still looked pretty this way. With the sound of her melodic voice, the feel of her soft skin and the rose-like fragrance of her scent—

“…?”

Upon taking in Yor’s light snores, now fast asleep beside him, Loid stops all train of thought, settling close to her and wrapping an arm around her, unbothered by their close proximity. And he tries to recall the words she uttered before she slept with him for the first time, the phrase forever engraved deep within his collection of memories into, "This was my first." 

And from there, the famed Agent Twilight closes his eyes and sleeps. 


(Capital City Berlint - City Hall)

“Yor! Are you even listening?”  

“Hm?”

“You’ve been dozing off lately while at work!” Camilla exclaimed, brows furrowing. “Also, you didn’t tell us how it went with Loid! Any news?” 

Yor, left speechless and muttering to herself, buries her face into her hands. Although, her traitorous red ears had told them, otherwise. A telepathic message was shared between them as the three looked at one another. But Millie, who was always too jumpy of learning about recent events, decided to speak up first.  

“It went well?”

'Haha.' Yor could only think and laugh at the thought in silence. 'More than well.'


— Fin. —