2spooky: The All-Saints Pyschiatric Hospital

[bluezone]

Four cases of beer, a bet, and a dare. That was how it all started.

The beer had been Tecate and it'd been bought by someone's older brother, since not a one of them was older than seventeen. The bet had been that the Heat wouldn't win against OKC, and in fact would lose by at least fifteen points. The dare had been at the discretion of the winner. Aomine had had way too many of the beers, had claimed that Miami would win, and had scoffed at the idea that any dare would be too tough for him to see through.

A day later, while still nursing the worst kind of hangover, he was cursing himself, his asshole friends, and the fucking failure of the Heat defense for his current situation.

All-Saints Psychiatric Hospital hadn't been a hospital since the 50s; supposedly it'd just been records storage before finally being shuttered for good sometime in the 1980s. Now, it was a derelict ghost sitting on the edge of new suburban sprawl, it's crumbling facade obscured by trees, an overpass, a hill, and distance. Once you got past the high fence and heavy, bolted gate, you might as well have been in another world, one overrun with grass, weeds, twisted shrubs, and patchy trees. There'd been a cobblestone drive, once, now a river of potholes and ugly, standing water, and there'd been a grand entryway with stone steps and metal handrails, all of it twisted and crumbling now, reduced to crumbling concrete and rebar.

Inside, it's a fucking tomb. It's cracked tile and peeling wallpaper with long streaks of black mold; it's graffiti and broken glass, and rotted doors hanging off rusted hinges; it's a single, abandoned hospital bed, it's padding slashed open, laying on its side near a set of doors that says OFFICES. It's utter silence, except for a faraway dripping and Aomine's own pounding heart.

He just has to go to the second landing. The stairs off the main atrium were secure and sound, he'd been told, and there was an observation deck up top that looked down on the dusty, cracked reception desks. All he had to do was walk up, take a few selfies, make a video shot down the long, dark hallway toward the first ward, and then get the fuck out.

His hand tight around the smartphone in his pocket, Aomine hustled toward the grand, wide stairs littered with leaves and garbage, and pretended that he wasn't fucking terrified.

At the very least, it was still daylight outside; it was 10 AM on a balmy Saturday in Spring.

Comments

[psalmed]

"Your mouth," Lia warned again, reaching up to place her fingers against his lips. She tapped them in another warning before resuming her job. "You do not remember? You came wandering up. Frightened and screaming." She shook her head, pulling his shirt up and slowly working it off one arm, letting him replace the hand on the bed frame before she took his other hand.

"This place is a hospital. You are here so you can get better. Do you remember your name? Family we might try to get into contact with?" Lia had to try. Over and over, repeating the questions as though she might receive more than his bad attitude. Men really were so difficult when it came to this but they grew even worse when it was an orderly trying to change them.

Lia finally got the shirt off, only pausing a few times to wrap her arms around his naked waist to pull him more upright and remind him how to stand. "What school do you go to?" Could he really be that young? Surely he had parents somewhere. Parents who would be looking for him.

Her fingers skimmed down his back. He was in shape enough to be returning from the military. His hips were thin, easy to work his pants over but actually getting him to step out of the fabric would be tricky. "Do not fight me. You will like who comes in here even less." There was an orderly hovering still, obviously not happy with gauze stuffed up his nose and a scowl on his face.

"Could let him trade places with Roberts," The orderly offered and the scream abruptly cut off. The silence was somehow worse. Aomine and Lia both could probably only assume that had been Roberts screaming.

[bluezone]

"No I didn't." He'd jumped the fence. He'd kicked in the door, ignoring the new lock on useless, rusted handles. "I was just...this whole place, it's abandoned, there's nobody here--hey!"

Aomine's difficult but absolutely certain protests were interrupted. His arms, independent of his protests, were easy to move; he could barely control them himself. He was up, but wobbly, and the cool air against his hot skin - he was sweating now, from all the exertion as well as visible and ongoing distress - made him shiver. Stunned, he grabbed for his pants, and almost fell, the terror and denial suddenly, if temporarily, displaced by a far more mundane emotions: embarrassment and shame.

He was almost naked. There were just his briefs, which no man anywhere wanted to be caught in.

"Knock it off! Give me back my no." He reached for, and failed, to grab his pants before they slid to the floor. The motion was unwise: he fell for real this time, right onto the bed, his ankles tangled up in his clothing and caught by his shoes. The clean sheets, at least, are things he can grab on to, this time in a slightly more successful attempt to crawl away.

That was all he cared about, getting away - except for a slurred growl aimed at the orderly, and a jump as the screaming suddenly came to an end.

Cold slammed into the pit of Aomine's stomach. "You all...you're not real. That wasn't real."

[psalmed]

"Monsieur..." But Lia simply looked sad. She watched him as he fell and crawled and raved like he had lost all leave of his senses. She had come to work at a hospital, accepting the pitiable of God's creatures and he was exemplifying that.

She waved off the orderly as he took a step into the room. She could manage this. Surely God made her the nurse without a thing to do when this boy arrived for a reason. And he is a boy, when she thinks about it. He can't be much older than her little brother and he's so very frightened.

"But you are here, with us. You came to this hospital and there was a reason for it. We have checked you in and we will help you. You have to let us help you." Of course Lia knew there was little sense in bargaining with the patients here. They didn't often understand or didn't care, trapped in their own delusions.

Lia grabbed him by the hips, unable to stop herself from marveling at his underwear for just a moment. Elastic...and the fabric looked relatively new. Was he perhaps a wealthy son dropped off? She didn't see any physical injury on him, at the least. Still, she pulled him back toward her and started to remove his briefs even with him face down and clawing the bed to get away. "Only until a doctor does his evaluation," She soothed. "Only until then and it is just us here..."

She was attempting comfort. A touch down his back or to his thighs as a nurse outside yelled for assistance and a door slammed. Normal sounds, but certainly they could be frightening. The orderly had already pulled out the padded restraints and Lia was starting to think he had been right to do so.

[bluezone]

Aomine shook his head. As calm as she sounded, as real as the bed felt, as much as it looked like the room was just built yesterday, it wasn't...it wasn't real.

...but what was it then, if not that? He didn't have an answer. "No. No no no. You're crazy. You're fucking crazy, this isn't a hospital."

There were her hands again. Aomine jumped, surprised, and then squirmed, realizing by now what she was after. His heart raced and his face got hot, his expression full of alarm and boyish panic. "Stop! Hands off!! Don't--"

His fucking underwear.

They didn't go easily. They were tight to begin with and as sluggishly as he was moving, he could still press his legs together. He even managed to curl his fingers in the elastic, which necessitated some pulling, and caused a momentary tug-of-war. There was no strength in his grip, though, and eventually there was a snap of elastic against his skin, and then they were out of his reach and off his body entirely. He was naked.

Aomine yelped, this time. He wriggled a hand under his body to cover himself and resumed a much stronger effort to get away from her, enough so that he was able to get his shoulders over to other side of the bed, if not yet the rest of his body. He was able to grab the windowsill and start to pull himself up. There weren't bars on this one; if he banged it hard enough, maybe -

"You're crazy! You're crazy!"

The elastic wasn't the only thing that snapped. It all came rushing back, the panic and the terror, hastened by the slammed door and a look over his shoulder at what both Lia and the orderly were doing.

"None of this is real-!"

[psalmed]

Lia was at a loss for a moment. Aomine went wild, naked, screaming. Protesting the basic facts. That they weren't crazy, that this was a hospital. She let him go, let him claw his way to the windows. She had hoped he would like this room. It was a nicer room, private, with a good view...

Ultimately she has to have the orderly step in. Aomine is weakened by the sedative but he's still large and it takes two of them to pull him back to the bed. Lia had mercy on him enough to throw a pillow over his groin as they wrestled him onto his back on a mattress that, while not soft, was at least not straw on a hard frame.

"We will make you well," Lia whispered to him, laying on top of his chest, crawling over him as the orderly started fitting restraints. Two around his wrists, two around his ankles. Shackled to the bedframe and all the slack removed from the ties.

Lia said a prayer, silently. For the writhing, obviously mad boy dropped off on their doorstep. Who could have abandoned him here? At first she had thought it was not so bad, not so hopeless, but it seemed mania had set in in truth.

"I promise," She repeated. "Only stop this." Stop fighting. Even with the drugs he bucked and struggled an impressive amount. Was he going for the window to jump out of it? Lia can not imagine what madness has gripped him. "I will do whatever I can to help you."

[bluezone]

He couldn't keep it up forever. With his heart going as fast as it was and his breathing that shallow, he was going to collapse eventually. It took time and the weight of two people for Aomine to finally fall back, black swirling at the edge of his vision. If he knew a little more about medicine, he would realize that was he was hyperventilating; as it was, he just thought he was out of his mind. Trapped, and going crazy for real.

Panting, eyes wild, he twisted his arms in their restraints, his fear so thick that it was a real thing, choking him. Nooooo, no no no -

He groaned, jaw tight, and twisted his head back, feeling sick. He thought of that morning, when he'd popped two Aspirin and groaned through his hangover; he thought of breakfast, and the text he'd gotten on his phone about the bet; he thought of how he'd been able to hear the cars from the overpass all the way up until the moment he went through those dilapidated doors downstairs.

"This isn't real," he said again, his teeth clenched bitterly tight. He'd closed his eyes, but yanked them open again now.

He looked at the woman. Lia. She kept speaking to him, soft and sure. Sad? He didn't know.

"This isn't real. You're not here."

Though she had been, hadn't she? That'd been her voice. Her touches. He'd seen her flitting through those empty, broken rooms.

"You're a ghost. You're dead."

It seemed obvious, now. The uniform. The music. The radiator next to his bed and the things that she said.

[psalmed]

It startled her. The words slipping out of his mouth that had suddenly become more personal. You're dead. A threat? A promise? Another delusion? Lia was not certain but she was certain that he was to a breaking point.

Once his arms and legs were held down she lifted up, perched with one knee against his hip and the other on the edge of the bed. Hands reached out and she stroked his chest, massaging muscles that were seizing up. "Shhh. You have to breathe. Please."

It wasn't working. Aomine's commotion had roused another nurse to bring in equipment for the room. An IV, bags of drugs, but Lia only had eyes for the teenager who seemed so utterly panicked. Nothing she could say would help but perhaps with time when he was left here...

"No one here is dead. We will help you. You will understand. I promise." He would understand, less, the way the other nurse was starting an IV in his restrained arm but Lia tipped his face, cupping it in her hands to make him focus on her. "Breathe with me. In for five seconds and then blow out..."

[bluezone]

His chest jumped under her touch. It was a strikingly intimate gesture, at least to him; he wasn't the type to get touchy-feely with a lot of people, and despite the interest girls at school had shown him, he only had eyes for basketball and only an interest in getting in trouble. Her hands felt comfortingly cool compared to the hot buzzing in his skin, enough to distract him and enough to get him looking at her more clearly instead of entirely through a haze of panic and terror.

She really was very beautiful. When he thought about it, she might have been one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.

"No. I saw you."

He said again, insistent. His voice had dropped from a yell to just harsh, hoarse words; his throat was hurting.

"You weren't there. You were just wind. Just - "

Her hands were cool, too, and felt wonderful on his skin. It was almost like he had a fever, now, and maybe he did, with the way he was sweating and shaking. He felt exposed and hideously vulnerable, and flinched when he felt the light pinch in the crook of his arm. He shuddered and struggled, though it was feeble, this time, and he though he tried to look past her to see what the other nurse was doing, his eyes inevitably went back to Lia's face.

He might not have followed her directions exactly, but his breathing got longer and deeper, and marginally easier.

"- don't. Make her stop."

Whatever was in those bags, he didn't want it -

[psalmed]

Lia's heart swelled and ached at his words. So young and lost and hurt. She couldn't help but think of D'Eon, of her baby brother, of what care she might want someone to give him if he was in such a state.

"I found you outside," Lia repeated again, patient. She kept stroking his face, trying to at least comfort him. "I was there outside with the wind." Was that what he had meant? She wasn't sure that either, but every time Aomine flinched she guided his attention back to her.

He had been too wild to trust. As badly as she wanted to release him. He was raving in a true badness. He had a fever. He had told her she was dead. He simply couldn't be released. "You will feel better, sweet boy," Lia repeated lightly. "You are such a trouble to me but I do not think you mean it." And from that point on, the blue-haired boy was going to be Trouble.

The drugs were no doubt the usual things. Calming drugs and nutrients and sometimes Lia thought something a little extra was put in for punishment but she didn't look too closely. "I will be back tonight to check on you, yes?"

Lia leaned closer as they finished up. She took his clothes, folding them, tucking them away and then she whispered in his ear. The same sensation as when he had been all alone. "You do not want to make the orderlies or the doctors angry." But before he could question that bit of advice she was already hurrying out of the room.

[bluezone]

I will be back tonight.

Which meant, he'd be left here. Strapped to his bed, a needle in his arm and fluid dripping down from the bag that was suspended next to his bed.

Aomine shook his head vigorously, or as vigorously as the sedative and her hands would allow. He wanted to make it angry, maybe a thread, but it ended up only looking fearful. "Don't, stop, don't go - "

But she was moving already, out of the door and out of sight, just like his clothes were gone, and any last proof as to what was happening at all. He barked out a noise, some choked sound of anger and terror, and tried to struggle once again, pulling with his arms and his legs, lurching back and forth on the bed.

"Don't! Don't leave me here!"

Panic cracked in his voice, made him cough, and he had to stop and hack, groaning in distress and disbelief.

"I'm not sick!!"

But no one was listening.

[psalmed]

The day had to pass slowly for Aomine. Nurses, none of them Lia, would stop to look at him. One placed a blanket over him. Another offered him water. But they didn't speak, clearly trying to get rounds done as quickly as possible. Of course there was the fact that, if he stared long enough, the paint would start to feel and the glass of the windows break out.

Lia was back in the evening. She had stolen away all of the valuables their newest patient came with. His clothing, including his underwear, was safely folded and put in a box underneath her bed. The odd little device had taken some time before Lia decided she didn't know what it was, but she kept that as well.

It was dark when she came back. She didn't have her apron on and had her hair in a less severe braid. Of course there was an orderly outside. Of course she had to have a sharp conversation with him. Their gazes drifted to Aomine a few times during the course of the argument.

When she reached Aomine her face was sad and tired, but she still smiled at him and pet his face as tenderly as if he were a newly hatched bird. Gentleness. It was what he deserved, what all these pitiful souls needed and surely a bit of compassion might make all the difference. His cries as she left had tormented her all day. "How is my Trouble doing?"

[bluezone]

Sometime in the afternoon, when his voice had been worn to nothing and he'd been so exhausted he could barely lift a finger, Aomine had finally passed out. He'd gotten a little bit quieter before that; whatever was in his drip had done a great deal to dull his nerves and increase the weight of the wool in his head. He'd have flashes of panic and anger and raw, helpless horror, but they were brief, just spikes of emotion that rose out of a flat, dark sea, and then they would disappear again. Sometimes he would scream; sometimes he would moan. Sometimes he would twist and growl and pant, his disbelief and his helplessness driving him until it really did feel like he was as crazy as they thought he was.

That kind of activity couldn't be sustained. He'd worn himself out eventually, not long after lunch time, and had lapsed into bone-tired unconsciousness despite all his best efforts to stay awake.

When he woke up again, he wasn't sure where he was. He was beyond groggy, his eyelids so heavy he could only open them a sliver. He couldn't move, and he couldn't remember why. His muscles were stiff and sore, like he'd been playing for hours, or like he'd gotten into a fight, and he couldn't move them. He tried, and leather would squeak softly, and the bed frame would rattle quietly. His throat was unbelievably parched, dry as a desert and cracking with each breath, and yet he was sweaty at the same time, his skin warm and clammy. His heart was thumping, quickly and quietly, and he shivered reflexively when someone touched his cheek.

He didn't know - or rather, had forgotten - about the sheet, and about how he was wearing nothing at all underneath it. Because of that, it did absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he was half-hard, that buzzing, confused heat pooling worryingly in his groin. He'd been nursing an erection off and on for the last hour of his sleep, the slow feed of drugs from his drip settling in his bloodstream at last.

Aomine's response was a difficult "Nnnn..." of sound, and some restless motion in his face and shoulders.

"Hn...what..."

[psalmed]

"You can not keep biting people. They will put a label on you. Il mord. He bites." Lia laughed a bit however, softly. He felt feverish and she took a cup from nearby, making certain it was water before finding a spoon. She put the water to his lips, a spoonful at a time, to be certain he wasn't choking.

The orderly was glowering from the doorway. Lia frowned again, petting that unusual hair of his. "I will need a name to call you by since you still will not tell me yours."

It was only then she glanced down. Realized that the thin sheet was not concealing much. Of course. Men had urges like that, especially upon waking up. Aomine's pupils were still dilated, but at least she could rouse him to semi-consciousness. "I do not think you are feeling much better. But you gave them quite the struggle, so they say."

Lia should not have been proud. She was a bit horrified as well, however. She wanted him to have better care when she was not with him. "Will you speak to me without yelling?"

[bluezone]

The first touch of water made him shiver and he was, for a few minutes anyway, more obedient than he had been when this had all started. He was so parched and it felt so good, that he didn't protest and didn't move his head away. Instead, still groggy and clumsy, he hastily swallowed each shallow mouthful. Sometimes, he was a bit too eager, and wetness darkened the pillow and dotted the skin of his cheeks and neck.

The relief made him relax and got him to actually close his eyes for a little while, just listening to her voice and letting the coolness soak into his worn throat. He almost thought that he was dreaming; when he opened his eyes again, she was still there, but everything was slightly blurry (a side-effect, he didn't know, of his "medication").

"I...okay."

She wasn't holding him down, not like the orderly had been. There wasn't an urge to bite her like he had bitten him.

"Where am I...?"

Aomine wasn't sure why he asked. He knew where he was. But it was dark now and his confused, worn mind hadn't quite yet put together the fact that he was still in the impossible hospital, instead of a real hospital. He could almost mistake her for a real nurse.

[psalmed]

"At the hospital. Remember? You wandered up." Yelling. Raving. Lia was still kind, however. Perhaps he would be more reasonable now that he had time to settle in. Perhaps she could get more information from him. For that moment, she was only interested in giving him water.

But she was not as hopeful as she had once been. She had seen many young men simply never bounce back. Nothing wrong with them physically but trapped within the confines of their own minds. She didn't want it to happen to this one.

She adjusted the sheet over him where it had shifted when she sat on the edge of the bed. Of course it was impossible not to notice, not to drag the fabric of the sheet over his body as she tidied his bed like it would not immediately be mussed again.

The orderly shut the door. Lia bit her lower lip before a more resolved look was on her features. The light was low, but enough to see by. "Remember? My name is Lia. And what do they call you?"

[bluezone]

"No, I..."

That wasn't right. He didn't just wander in. He was here because he'd been drunk and stupid. He'd come in the morning -

He didn't tell her his name. Instead he said, trying to be clear: "I need to go home."

The dimness was because the windows were black, now. The moon had yet to rise, leaving only the lights from the hospital yard to give in illumination from outside. That alone caused alarm, because now he had to ask: how long had he been here? He'd passed out, hadn't he? "Let me up, I need to--ah, shit, aah..."

His breath rushed out, startled. The little adjustment had reminded him of the rest of his body, and alerted him at last to the steady pounding between his legs. He made a sound of shock and squirmed, clarity sneaking up on him.

He was...hard? Almost. Kind of. Oh, god, she was right there, too, she could see. Despite himself, his face got hot for reasons that didn't have anything to do with fever; his wrists and feet pulled at their restraints, not to escape, but to roll over, his embarrassment impossibly strong.

[psalmed]

"Where is home? We can contact someone to come get you." But he seemed confused even on that. She gave him a moment to get his surroundings, putting another pillow under him as he started to sit up.

The language startled her again but the scolding died on her lips as he started to squirm. Was he sick? Trying to injure her? But no. She realized belatedly that he had only now realized what was going on. The blush was a bit cute but Lia only smiled, rather than laughing outright at him.

The orderly was waiting. Predatory. "We have to do something about your mouth. Surely you can put it to better uses than swearing." She was hesitant. A lamb trying to act like a lion in such a situation, her fingers flicking up to the buttons of her uniform, undoing them one by one.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of. Of course some people in this hospital will have you in an ice bath before you can blink but I know how boys are. Especially at your age." And especially helped along by whatever drug has been dripping into his veins.

[bluezone]

He was, for a few moments, more concerned about the orderly than what she was doing. His consciousness was coming back little by little, and with it, his anger and fear from the day. He'd gotten that guy at least twice; those bandages on both arms were proof of that. What was he doing to do now? Hadn't he done enough?

But no, that didn't last. Aomine's eyes flicked back and then widened almost comically.

"Wh...whoa, hey, what are you - "

He was reminded, immediately, of just how attractive she was. He'd known that from the beginning, but it mattered suddenly. It mattered more than anything. Before, he hadn't thought about the soft weight that had pressed against his back when she'd held him from behind; before, he hadn't thought at all about how it had felt when she'd been on top of him, her dress gathering up around her hips.

Now, those things are all he can think about. They choke out his protests and make that heat in him spread and flare, working against the shame and the sense of exposure.

Aomine was staring at her hands. He couldn't look away. Even when he finally got his question out, he still couldn't look away. "What are you doing...?"

[psalmed]

There was a funny correlation. When Lia kept unbuttoning her top, the orderly stayed put. Still watching, but sometimes he would even retreat a step. She pretended he wasn't in the room at all, that she only had eyes for Aomine.

She was a bit nervous. That was obvious in the nervous flicks of her fingers because after a hard day she could have the uniform unbuttoned in less than two seconds if it meant she could fall into bed sooner.

"I am keeping you busy," Lia replied easily. "Your mouth in particular." She had rehearsed it, somehow. Sometime. Underneath the uniform is a bra. White and standard issue, unremarkable except it's a bit too small for her so there's more swell of her breast visible at the top.

"If you would tell me your name this would all be better for you." Being here. Maybe she could find his family based on that alone.

[bluezone]

This wasn't the first time he'd seen a girl's bra. He'd had a girlfriend once, for all of three weeks, and he'd been pretty damn proud of himself for how quickly he was able to get down that far, even if he hadn't gotten any further than that before the breakup. But the sight hit him like a ton of bricks anyway, making him jerk on the bed and, much to his shame, caused a visible change in the state of his erection.

"How the fuck...what does that - "

He stumbled over the words plus another curse, doing the exact opposite of what he was supposed to, apparently.

"What does my name have to do with you taking off your top...?"

Aomine swallowed hard, shaken, and, now, horny. He was horny. He was staring at the slight rise of her breasts over her bra. He was terrified, and he was horny, and he choked out a word without meaning to.

"D...aiki."

His first name. In Japan, during the summer, he always used his last; but during school, in the States, it always had to be his first. It was habit now.

[psalmed]

"Daiki?" Lia echoed it, but the pronunciation wasn't quite right. Had he been trying to say something else? Babbling something? She was distracted as well.

"Nothing with your name. With keeping you quiet...well some people have suggested you should just be gagged all night. A metal thing they keep in your mouth so you can not bite your tongue. A terrible thing. But I thought I could keep you quiet..." She hopes. Perhaps it would have been easier simply explaining but the orderly definitely wants to see Aomine suffer for biting him. And headbutting him. And everything else.

The skirt of her dress was next, pulled up to show that the stockings visible at her ankles were thigh-highs, held up with ribbons and garters rather than anything more modern. Lia trembled, hesitated, felt the movement of the man at the door. "It is for your own good though. We will make you better and part of making you better...giving you better activities. Your vocabulary will improve." And the orderly wouldn't suffocate him. Maybe.

"How old are you? Where are you from?" Maybe those questions would make more sense to her.

[bluezone]

He nodded, just as distracted. That was his name. But it was followed immediately by shaking his head, stunned by her words. He didn't want to be gagged; he didn't want to be here at all, but it was already bad enough. He was already this helpless. He couldn't bear the thought of more.

But it was hard, as well, to be properly alarmed by it. Not when her top was open and her dress was pulled up and he couldn't deny, anymore, that this wasn't what he was thinking it was. She was going to, where they...was it sex? It had to be. That was what these things meant. ...right? He'd never had sex before, though he knew plenty about women and their anatomy, like any boy his age with an internet connection would know. Aomine bit down on a noise in his throat, shuddering under his blanket. There was no denying now that he was hard, the tent in the sheet humiliating in its prominence and in how little there was that he could do about it.

He was hot, now. Not just warm. "I'm...seventeen. I'm seventeen."

Aomine's voice was thick. He had to swallow before giving his next answer.

"Tokyo." He would've named which part, but the name of the town left him, and didn't come back.

[psalmed]

"Do you know anything about girls? Have you been with them?" Seventeen is so young. Desperately so and too young to have been drafted. But she does recognize the name of the city and Lia froze, staring at him, hoping no one else had overheard.

"You can not say that. You can not...you can not be that. It is just the medicine talking. Do not tell anyone else." They were at war, after all. But the more Lia thinks on it the more obvious it is. She shoved the thoughts away, instead working her dress until it is a ring of fabric around her waist.

She shivered, but not from the temperature. Seventeen. Nearly D'Eon's age really and she must not think of that She must think that this is for the better and if he has something else to do with his tongue he will not use it to get in trouble so much.

Her bra came off. Tossed to the side and Lia kept her back to the orderly. The view was for Aomine, breasts high and firm and her nipples pink and perked up with cold or nerves or whatever else. He couldn't touch, of course, but she at least leaned closer to him with her hands sliding through his hair.

"You will be good for me? And then I can be good to you."

[bluezone]

"I - kind of, a little bit--"

Normally, he'd boast. He had sure as hell boasted to his friends on how far he'd gotten with his ex and how quickly. But it was a stutter when he said it, as shaken as the rest of him, and he would have squirmed from his embarrassment if not for that sudden change.

What?

Why does that matter...?

Aomine would have asked her if she hadn't neatly and permanently blasted those thoughts from his mind. There was her underwear, white like her bra, and the proper-yet-naughty garters that kept her stockings up. There were her bare breasts, the first he'd ever seen in real life, and a moment later they rested oh-so-lightly on his chest, a sheet and nothing more between them and his skin.

He could feel her pert nipples. He nearly choked on his breath. He definitely shivered, hard and all the way down to his bones, and clenched his teeth, his expression tight with surprise, and shock, and helpless arousal.

"I-I...fuck, this is - " Crazy, he almost said. Almost. His cock gave a hard throb and cut him off before he could.

It'd be easy to say yes. It'd be easy. He wanted to. He wanted to. The throbbing in his body wanted him to.

Aomine couldn't say it. But he nodded, the motion jerky and halting.

[psalmed]

"Good enough." That he hopefully at least knows about a little about girls. His body isn't protesting but how could it? She pressed against him easily and she noticed the muscles again. Certainly in good shape and amazing for seventeen.

"I am glad to hear you will strive to behave." She hadn't heard it. He had only nodded but Lia took that as well. She straddled him, sitting on his stomach rather than any lower.

She pressed her chest forward, against his face. Soft. He didn't have a beard to scratch at her. Her skin was warm, flushed a little, and she moved against his mouth. That much would be more obvious, wouldn't it? Instinctive?

Her fingers combed through his short hair and she tried to forget. Tried to get him to forget anyone else was there. "Use your mouth for something more useful than swearing." She would worry about everything else later. Everything that wasn't pressing to keep him sane and safe.

"There...good. Just lick and suck. Do not bite hard..." How much coaching would he need?