A bunch of hot air and cold breath

[justlikesmaids]

[No one is a fan of sweltering humid heat. Even those who adore the warm air find it sticky and breath taking in the worst ways possible. Usui is not different, no superhuman or alien ability to beat the heat naturally. It's by misfortune the school's air conditioning stops working two days prior and no advancement has been made to fix it. The classroom's windows are cracked open, blinds pulled to filter the light and allow the stagnate air in. 

Nature doesn't have the decency to grant wind today making it more miserable. He's forward thinking though, preparing things to beat back the heat since he knows full and well Misaki isn't going to cut the day short due to heat. There's paperwork to do and an assortment of Presidential duties she's too duty bound herself to let go for the better of her health. That's actually the reason he's there today, a lack of pestering and teasing uncharacteristic of him despite the numerous chances to do something so.

It's later, but not so late the school is empty. People are roaming the halls and after class activities are booming in face of the swelter. Usui has undone the top three buttons of his shirt, sleeves rolled higher, and look of misery over his face. Chewing on ice has been his only shelter from the heat and his teeth are growing tired from the chewing.

He watches her work and thinks to ask if he should help, but pride is a funny thing. Instead he drags himself closer setting a larger metal bowl of sorts filled tot he brim with ice and water bottles. It's stayed cool this entire time thankfully and access to ice is easy when it's almost across the hall. He tilts his head from his close proximity, tilts it the other way, and finally pops another piece of ice in his mouth before walking behind her.

She's too engrossed in her Presidential duties and he's needy, bored, and worried. Worried quite a bit the heat is getting to her. So ice crushed and breath cold, he parts her hair to one side to blow on her ear a cold air to snap her out of it and to prevent further boredom. At least she'll pay attention to him and maybe even play with him,  that is if his persistence is stronger than her will to work.]

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[justlikesmaids]

[The lack of thrown ice is a true testament to how far their relationship had grown. In frankness, Usui hasn't pondered if the bowl of ice could become a projectile when it very well could with tensions and heat running high. On a day like this the notion of retaliation by trowing away precious ice is wasteful.

Chances are he'd of stood still for the brief respite from the heat a face full of ice cubes would bring. Barring the pain of taking a metal bowl to the face as well, but his forte in foresight dictates Misaki isn't irrational enough to throw anything at him including the influence of the weather on her.

He gets it more than must the knotted discontent with yourself by showing weakness being he's not fond of showing any himself. However he's not vain to the point of hubris to deny assistance when it's obvious it's required. Illness for one strikes up a fine reason to seek help and put the mask of pride away, but there's no illness here.

A sickness of high numbers on the thermostat; yes. No actual illness, unless boredom can qualify. Boredom is curable, though not like in ways concern is.]

Feeling sleepy then. [He cuts in rude as all get out and out of worry. Usui is good for distractions and he knows it. Reassessment of the situation is called for. Less push and more lead to draw her out of this state of working too hard for little good reason.

He sighs, missing her hand and ear, and tugs a tad tighter to let his chin fall on her shoulder. Laughter and footsteps are outwardly ignored since worry over other people's perception of him has never particularly bothered him. It's one of the few worries that doesn't eat at him.]

For now because you stopped working. [The latter half of her words tickles him into a faint chuckle cool like his icy breath. Fingers left, though undisturbed from their mission to stop her from working. They travel behind her to the chair inching back further away, his chin lingering long as it can before lifting away to ease the chair back more from the desk.]

From standing? My, you do need a break to cool off. [He's sing talking again from behind her. The urge to spin her around and seat her on the desk passes his thoughts. The mess of paperwork stops him, for now, the spinning her around still follows through; any hitches resting upon her.

Hands pull at her waist to spin her around, the motion suggestive far more demanded. When the spinning stops or she looks upon him, it's a warm smile of an endearing sort that's at odds with the baking warmth of the air.]

That's better. [Always better to see her face.] I'm genuinely worried about you and the paperwork isn't of vital importance, is it? Unless you're feeling warmer for me, then it's something I really ought to take care of.

sorry about the delay

[presidentialism]

I stopped working because you're being a pest.

[ But she gives up anyway as mentioned.

It's so rare that she indulges him when he's playing but at the moment, she's just too tired. The heat, her work, his mischiefs. It's just too much to handle. And thus she's too weary to retort, to reprimand him, even to continue her vain attempt at getting him off her. She allows herself to be pulled back close to him, sighing as he leans against her. His breath is cool against her skin as he exhales close to her neck and her eyes briefly close at how nice it feels. What an incorrigible child. A too sharp, too intuitive child who notices all the small things.

On the other hand, taking a break from work feels ... refreshing (and irresponsible but that's beside the point). For once, there's no pressure to finish anything, no lines to read, nothing to decide whether it's approved or denied. It's no wonder a lot of the committees take long breaks from their own duties, a matter she'll need to take into consideration later on. But it doesn't really take her long to start getting thinking about the reports she still needed to read, the maintenance checks she still needed to do and so forth.

One of her hand grabs the back of the chair he's trying to move away, pulling it back to its original spot. ]

Break time over. [ It's barely, what? Five minutes? It's five minutes lost time over poring over documents however, her work now five minutes longer. ] I need to go back to work.

[ The turn catches her off guard and Misaki nearly stumbles, grabbing Usui's arm to keep herself from falling and to regain her balance. She hates it when he does that but even more so now, when she's currently hiding her embarrassingly red face as she blushes from both the heat and their proximity. Quickly, she averts her gaze from his look. ]

D, don't be ridiculous. It's because you're standing too close. [ Well, it's true. In a way. Body heat and all that. She takes a deep breath, presses her lips together before she looks up at him. ] But thanks ... I didn't know you were worried.

it's fine!

[justlikesmaids]

[Records are broken being the five minutes or so are more than she's granted him from her work than she ever has willingly. A mere minute is record breaking since rarely it's her backing down from a mountain of paperwork to play with him. He's surprised; nay, a bit shocked at the willingness to step away.

Denial to get back to work takes form as his turnaround. Between patrolling the hallways and reading through mind numbing dribble, Misaki does her duty above and beyond for the school. Students and faculty aren't to point fingers or become disappointed for taking a break. He feels he ought to mention this to strengthen his point to cease working and suffering.

Gold hair sways in a slow shake of his head. The hold on her body isn't tight granting wiggle room should she want to remove herself from him, but if his hunch is right; she won't. The streaks of red about her cheeks is the loveliest shade of red he knows bar any brighter ones he's yet to see overtake her face.]

Nope. It's not break time anymore. I decided you have to stop working for the rest of the day. [Him and his ridiculous demands are with warrant. Shoulders lax as he leans in to speak lower, the commotion outside coming and going as ever.]

Am I? I don't want to step away, but you have to keep cool...[He trails off and steps forward. One step becomes two, then three, and eventually backs them into the desk. A wayward hand pushes papers off fluttering to the ground. Difficult to work when things are a mess and need resorting. He'll take the blame later and may actually help once they're cooled off and he's satisfied with playtime.]

I'm always worrying over you Misaki. At school, the cafe, at home. [The ice is out of reach much to his discontent. It takes a push to put her onto the desk to get him closer to the bowl, his looming frame bearing a playful grin and stain of pink (from heat or situation is anyone's guess).] Think you can keep quiet while I cool you off? [Because he's taken up an ice cube with plans in mind.]

[presidentialism]

[ Displays of affection aren't that unusual anymore in their relationship. It still embarrasses her, mostly due to the fact that this is something brand new to her, but she's no longer as hesitant as when they first started. Still, they've usually always kept it in a private, secluded place. Like his house or hers when it's empty. And the student council office is neither private nor secluded. Which is mostly Misaki's concern as he backs her into the desk.

Her gaze flickers back to the door, ignoring his irresponsible and impossible request (or that his low voice sends a shiver down her spine). If someone walks in or even peers through the door window, it's over. They're in a compromising position, her back to the desk and his arms around her waist. But her attention soon returns to him when the sound of her paperwork fluttering to the floor startles her. ]

What are you doing? What if someone hears that? [ She hisses to make her point but he's also made his already. Clearing the table for her to a certain extent. Since before she knew it, she's sitting on the desk, trapped. Misaki glares up at him. Or well, whatever she can muster that moment.

She's getting warmer, and this time she's sure it's not just the temperature outside or the fact that he's stepped closer. On the one hand, she's apprehensive, most especially at his last question and the accompanying ice in his hand. On the other hand, she's somehow anticipating what will happen next. ]

W, what are you planning to do?

[justlikesmaids]

[While Usui has no problem with displaying his affections publicly and frequently, there's an upwards point in which his shamelessness folds. Not for himself being his reputation never struck him important. It's her reputation he's careful with; someone of Misaki's stature getting caught in a compromising position is unbecoming and something he won't allow.

He's confident enough he'll know when to stop if eyes begin prying and having to keep a watchful eye is thrilling. Papers falling to floor sounds louder than he gauged them to, but he's sighing and shaking his head. Her glare is met with a sly smirk to speak for him and melts when focus takes back on what he plans to do with the piece of ice.

Locked between his thumb and two nearest fingers, the cube travels to her neck below her ear. Application is faint like the brushing of a feather. It's no direct application, yet, and travels with his hand lower about her neck to below her chin and coming to a stop where her shoulders begin. Then it's over, hand lifted and ice put on her lips with a singer finger.]

That. [Short and curt, and by indications of his expression, not the last of it.]

You still look heated Misaki, I may have my work cut out for me. [He chimes bordering the sing song voice he takes in compromising situations like these. With her seated upon the desk, his free hand roams taking rest on her leg above her knee and drums against her skin by his fingers. A different and more human brought sort of heat stirs in his stomach; the sort that's meant for privacy and seclusion.]

[presidentialism]

[ Misaki doesn't flinch at his touch but she bites her lower lip at the cool, feather-light sensation, swallowing back any sound her throat is threatening to make. Her hand, resting on his arm, grips the sleeve of his uniform as if it's the one thing that keeps her grounded. The ice didn't even touch her skin, only his fingers as he continues his ministrations, and yet she's starting to breathe hard. And the cooling down he's talking about is brief, fleeting, quickly replaced by the heating up of her skin and body.

And she hates it, the fact that she's the only one having these kinds of reactions. Or at least, that's what it seems like. Usui's calm and collected in the face of her flushed skin and short of breath, methodical in his teasing. And he only continues, eliciting more and more embarrassing reactions from her. It's frustrating on one hand, but she anticipates it anyway on the other.

She slightly parts her mouth, letting his finger push the ice inside. The hand on his sleeve tugs him a little closer until he's so close enough that their body heat are mingling and her head can lean against his chest. He too feels hot under his uniform. ]

I could say the same to you. [ Misaki's careful not to swallow or drop the ice, shifting it around with her tongue. It feels really nice, really cold inside her mouth but even then, her breath catches with every shift of his hand against her skin. ] Are you finally starting to lose your cool?

[justlikesmaids]

[Balance falls under the long and extensive list of things Usui is natural at. Literal balance for the grip upon his uniform, though not yanking as to pull him in anyway. The less literal interpretation is his balance of expression, the art of maintaining a poker face in the face of all things.

There are however things that do make him lose his cool and stumble briefly before he can pick himself back up. Misaki happens to the fault for all those things, the sort that makes his heart jump or face flush because despite all that's said about him; Usui is a young man and not always in complete control.

Cause and point is the assertiveness he's grown to like and find surprise in. The heat about his torso climbs and his throat clears, expression dampening in the slightest. She's playing his game. Nay, playing him as his game.

The smirk comes back, hand upon her leg toying with the end of her skirt. Muted talking passes and he doesn't think to look. Provocative or not, he's not letting go of her or the situation.]

A little. I may need to discard some of this uniform to air off. [Implications are set up to whom he is referring to undressing. Another piece of ice is brought to her neck, it's application stronger with its damp surface contacting her skin. It swirls about inching closer to her collarbone and when it finally does, he kisses her to absorb any voice.

The piece rest above her collar, melting between fingers and skin both warm. By the time the piece turns to a sliver, he's removing it and popping in his mouth to crunch down; the taste of her lips remaining and cool.]

Better, but I'm still warm.

[Hot and confined, annoyingly so. At the pit of his stomach stands another heat unrelated to the swelter, but far more pressing and heated. He chides himself internally aware they're being very dangerous. It doesn't cut down how much he likes it or is willing to continue, so long she's willing to cool off with him.]