Majin Tantei Nogami Neuro

Yako, Neuro

Rating: M (starts off a bit racy, solo)

Summary: Yako's a growing girl who's let her evil demon stalker boss slip from her mind at a bad time.

Poor, doomed Yako-chan.

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Yako can honestly say she doesn't really think of anyone when she curls up in bed for those extra-private moments--everyday privacy being an extinct thing after Neuro's arrival in her life--and lets her hands slide under the covers.

She doesn't need it; she's satisfied with letting her mind go vague and her hands stroke, over planes and curves she's learning with a tentative joy in of itself, her narrow hips and the soft stretch of her belly, up to cup breasts that fit in her hands and draw tight with sensitivity.

Sweet heat rising up her spine and Yako sighs, letting her back arch a little, letting herself relax and her head fall back, shoulders shifting against the mattress as her skin comes alive.

Her vision prickles with technicolor instead of faces as she squeezes her eyes shut, shuddering restlessly into her own touch under the haphazard blankets, hips arching as she pushes her hands down under her panties, breath already coming quicker and her muscles tremble and tense and she bites into her lip, the heat rising as her fingers slide down and in, brushing inner thigh and then in, a trace of slickness as her breath sucks in, anticipatory--

"What's this?"

Neuro's voice is bright and when her eyes snap open he's an inch from her face and she screams, piercing and involuntary, and throws herself off the bed in a convulsive and undignified tangle of limbs and ends up flat on her back.

"The hell?" She squeaks. She was sure--well, never mind, being sure about anything concerning Neuro was impossible running on absurd but she'd asked if he'd need her--

"Well?" He asks again. "What's this?"

She stares at him open mouthed, brain spontaneously short-circuiting at the prospect of explaining sex to Neuro; or, on the off chance that he already knew about it, admitting that she'd been practicing a form of it. "I--no--"

His expression slides into a smoothly inquiring, wounded look that sends a chill of terror cheerily tripping down her spine. "You won't tell me?"

Yako bolts for the door and smacks into her mother as she opens it. "Mother!" She gasps, flinging her arms around her waist and utterly overwhelmed by sheer, blinding gratitude. "Dinner! I need dinner!"

"Ah--Yako-chan?" She asks, startled. "Shouldn't you dress first?"

Freezing, Yako's gaze shoots down to her bare legs. "Of course--" She blurts, and turns back to a suddenly empty room. Her mother is backing out of the doorway, and she shouts, "wait a moment!" as she leaps across the room, snags a pair of sweats from her chair and, performing a miraculous athletic feat, manages to get her legs into them while charging for the door. "I'm coming!" Almost, anyway, she thinks crazily, and pauses on the way to the stairs after her mother to bang her head on the wall.

Asexuality and spontaneous amnesia, she tells herself firmly, is the only answer.