yuuji is, by technical definition, an old man. you would never know it by looking at him, but he has years of wisdom and experience under his belt, years that have toughened him, calloused him to the rest of the world, and he's forgotten how to be soft.
when he meets you, nearly sixty years his junior and so full of life and spite and audacity, his first instinct is to stay as far away from you as humanly possible. he's afraid, really, of the way you make him feel. his stomach drops and his hands get a little clammy – he hasn't felt like this in as long as he can remember. and he's become so comfortable, with the solitude. hasn't he always been alone like this? it sure feels that way.
but being in your presence is like being an ice cube in the presence of the sun. he can resist all he wants, but at the end of the day, he has no choice but to melt. used to being so tough, so isolated, and yet he gets around you and he starts to feel like himself again.
the first time you really make him laugh, it shocks you both.
"you're kind of a freak, aren't you?" you ask casually, twisting a strand of his hair around your finger.
"that's not very nice," he murmurs, distracted by your lip tucked between your teeth as you admire his face.
you laugh. "it's not an insult! just a fact. what kind of normal guy would be into a woman that much younger than him?"
you never seem to be able to read the room appropriately, should know that this is the worst thing you could say to him. don't you know this eats away at him every time he sees you? can't you see your attachment is already the most distressing thing that's happened to him in years?
what he can't see is that you're testing him, baiting him, wanting to see some slip in that steadfast composure of his.
you shrug. "still, i'm just as much of a freak." he raises his eyebrows.
"oh?"
"yeah, what kind of normal girl wants to fuck someone older than her grandpa?"
and he can't help it – he bursts into laughter, nearly doubled over, shoulders shaking as you cling to his shoulders and whine, "heyyyy, don't make fun of me!"
"never, baby, never," he says, still chuckling as he pulls you even closer to his chest. "do you always just say whatever pops into your head?"
you roll your eyes. "no." then you grin. "well, maybe."
he noses down your neck, bites little crescents into your throat and exhales sharply when it has you grinding down into his lap. "it's gonna be the death of me," he whispers into your skin. "you're gonna take this old man out, y'know."
hands coming up to run through messy locks, you tug his face up so he's looking right at you. "but you love it."
his grip on you is so tight it almost hurts, but you lean into his touch anyway. so rarely do you get to see him guard down like this, and you aren't sure when the opportunity will arise again.
"yeah," he sighs, "yeah, pretty girl, i love it." presses a kiss to your jaw. "can't get enough of it." now a kiss to your cheek. "think i need it." his breath fans your face, lips mere centimeters away from yours, waiting for you to bridge that gap and take what belongs to you, what's been yours since the moment he laid his eyes on you.
"yuuji," you whisper. he's looking at you like you're the sun and the moon and the stars, too, and it makes you nervous, because if you let yourself really open up to him, and he leaves, it will really kill you. you've never felt like this before and you're afraid that the moment you get used to it, that will be the moment it's taken away.
and he sees all this in your eyes, feels it ring true with his own internal debate, feels his heart aching right along side yours. he's terrified of bringing you any harm, and the smart thing, the wise thing, the mature thing would be to end this, let you go before either of you gets too involved.
but it's too late, you're already leaning in and so is he, because if you want a kiss then he'll be damned if he won't give it to you.
