A rapid-fire barrage of notifications that made the phone vibrate like an angry hornet.
Yuna: Platonic? PLATONIC?! YOU THINK THAT'S PLATONIC?
Yuna: SHE'S WEARING A FUCKING YOR FORGER OUTFIT. AND I CAN SEE HER TITS FROM SPACE.
Yuna: AND WHOSE IDEA WAS IT TO BUILD A GUNDAM ON A SUNDAY NIGHT?!
His phone buzzed again.
Mika: Oh, that's a lovely picture. Her costume is very well-made.
Mika: And I see that she went for the high-angle shot. It's a classic for emphasizing her assets. It's a very smart choice.
Mika: You look like you're having a lot of fun. :) You shouldn't stay out too late.
Back to the group chat.
Yuna: DON'T YOU DARE GO AND "SMILEY FACE" HER, YOU MANIPULATIVE HOME-WRECKER! I CAN SEE WHAT YOU'RE DOING.
Yuna: AND YOU, MAKOTO! YOU HAD BETTER BE HOME IN AN HOUR!
Yuna: OR I'M PUTTING YOUR LIMITED COLLECTOR'S EDITION RAIDEN FIGURE IN THE BLENDER.
Makoto quickly showed Ayane the messages with a desperate, pleading look before turning back to the model parts.
Ayane leaned over to read, showing off her full cleavage. A low whistle escaped her lips. "Wow. She's feisty." Her eyes moved to Mika's response. "And the other one's a goddamn sniper."
"Let's finish this before my Raiden figure gets destroyed." He sighed and winked. "Or I'd demand a life-sized Raiden as my compensation, Miss Ayane."
She pulled back with a predatory grin. "A life-sized Raiden, huh?" Her voice dropped lower as she trailed a black-gloved finger down his arm. "I think I could manage that."
"Alright, you harem king." She clapped her hands together. "We've got an hour on the clock. Let's see how much we can get done."
Ayane dove back into the pile of plastic parts with manic energy. The next hour blurred by. She called out part numbers like a drill sergeant while he snipped and trimmed with surgical precision.
They worked in surprisingly efficient sync, as two nerds united in a last-ditch effort to save a fictional character's figure from a blender. Through it all, Ayane kept up a running commentary.
"So, the blender? That's creative. I would have gone for the microwave."
"You really need to work on your harem management skills. This is just sloppy."
"Do you think they'll fight over who gets to press the button?"
Makoto shrugged as he helped her finish the Gundam. "You beat me. Those ecchi harem mangas don't exactly teach harem management skills."
"They don't?" Ayane's voice dripped with mock surprise. She stood, brushing a stray piece of plastic from her short skirt. "I could have sworn there was a chapter in To Love Ru about preventing catfights."
Makoto gathered his things and prepared to leave. Ayane followed him to the door. The Gundam stood proudly on her coffee table, a testament to their combined efforts.
"Well," she said, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms. "I suppose you should run home to your blender-wielding stepsister." Her eyes sparkled. "But before you go, I believe you owe me a little something."
She tapped her cheek. "For my confession. And for the emotional distress of dealing with your chaotic love life." She smiled. "A good-night kiss, perhaps?"
Makoto leaned in with a fond smile. "Sure. Just a friendly kiss." He kissed and licked her cheek slowly, deliberately. Ayane's breath hitched as his tongue traced a wet path up her cheek. A shiver ran through her.
Her smile turned slow and wicked. "A friendly kiss, huh? If that was friendly, I can't wait to see what unfriendly looks like."
"And I want some compensation, too." Makoto pulled back, his eyes glinting. "You have to show me what's inside that cleavage and behind that dress. They've been quite distracting earlier."
She took a step back, her hands finding the delicate zipper at the back of her Yor Forger dress. "Fine. You cooked me dinner. So you've earned a prize."
The zipper slid down with a soft hiss, the black fabric parting to reveal her pale back. She shrugged, and the dress pooled at her feet in a dark heap.
Underneath, she wore simple white cotton panties and nothing else. Her breasts were full and round, completely bare. Her nipples were deep dusky pink, already hard in the cool air. She stood there, a beautiful contradiction. The deadly assassin on the outside, the girl-next-door underneath.
"Well?" Her voice shook slightly, but her eyes blazed with defiant confidence. "Is this distracting enough for you?"
Makoto gulped. He swallowed hard, a fond smile on his face. "It's quite alluring."
He looked at her with sparkling eyes. "The cotton panties are childish, but they suit you." He paused with a grin.
A deep blush spread from Ayane's neck to her cheeks. "Childish?!" She sputtered, her hands flying down to cover herself. "They're comfortable! And practical!"
"And your boobs..." He leaned in for a quick sniff. "Hmm, they're exactly my type."
Hearing that, Ayane couldn't quite hide the pleased smile playing at her lips. Or the way her nipples tightened into hard points as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin.
"Your type, huh?" she repeated. She dropped her hands slowly, deliberately. "I'll have to remember that." She took a step closer, her bare breasts brushing against his chest. The sensation jolted through her like electricity.
"So," she whispered, her voice raw, her hands finding their way to the waistband of his pants. "Are you just going to stand there and sniff, or are you going to do something about it?"
Her fingers curled around him, her grip tight. "And for the record, your Raiden figure is probably already a smoothie now."