Miki, the hard, not-depressed veteran.

He reached up, and undid his ponytail, letting lengthening white hair flow free.

“Sasha, what are you- mmmph!”

Caught off guard by a superior ****, the Captain had **** but to melt against his sudden embrace. She swooned as he leaned forwards, supporting her with his natural right arm to reduce discomfort while he leaned in for quite a kiss.

Their tongues danced, and he once again sampled her wonderful flavor… perhaps strawberries? In fact, he recalled they had some for lunch, that probably accounted for some of it. There was something beneath, though… lipstick?

When did the tomboyish Captain start wearing that stuff?

“I’m not… mmmmh…!”
[I’m not part of the program, doofus!]

Her protests would be more convincing if she wasn’t leaning right into this, and her eyes hadn’t fluttered closed in comfort. Her cheeks flared up as red as her ribbon today. He brushed that aside to run his left, still-gloved hand through bubblegum pink hair on his way to tweaking her matching-color cat ears. Sadly, his automail hand was great for many things, but it didn’t give any tactile sensation.

She clearly felt it, though, like a jolt of lightning right down her spine. It added to the sensation of his natural arm pulling her tight against his waist. They were on top of each other, and the kiss just kept going. Setting a blaze to burn hotter than the crackling, roaring fireplace, though that also helped set the mood.

She was still so sensitive all over; the merest touch and she shivered with arousal. Yet to make sure, Sasha relented enough to release her mouth. Though a tiny trail of saliva remained between them, hanging down in the suddenly too-warm air.

“Captain, if I’m wrong about this, please say something right now.”

She pouted, and reached up to put a sharpened, painted fingernail to his lips. “One condition.”

“Anything.”

“No more of that ‘Captain’ business. The war’s over. We’re not in the army anymore. That’s all behind us. I’m Miki. Deal?”

Sasha would have rather she ordered him into a minefield, or crawling through razor wire, or any of the brave and absurd things he’d done in the past. That had all been easy for him, for he knew no other way of life before now. Before she’d taken him away to this wonderful, peaceful place.

Now he was the one sporting a healthy blush right alongside her.

“Deal.”

“Deal what?~”

“Deal, Miki.”

“Yeah. I think I’m in love. I’m not much of a girl, compared to the others, but-”

Sasha silenced that kind of talk instantly, offering his counterpoint with the most effective way he could use his mouth; going right for her neck, and digging in very gently with fangs. Not enough to break the skin, but sufficient to turn that half-hearted spiel into lustful mewling. Her tail wagged behind her, while his stood up ramrod-straight in tension.

They needed to resolve this tension. Living together, working together. While he thought it was normal, the villagers pointed out that the two of them were already acting the part of an old married couple.

The living room of Miki’s house featured an old sofa, suitable for lounging about, but it would prove extremely uncomfortable to just fold her up and fuck her over and over. Much as the thought got him achingly hard, and rushed blood and energy downwards that his brain could have desperately used.

No, they needed a proper bed. It used to belong to her grandfather, and before him, his, up through eight generations. This house had so much history, he was worried it might have felt awkward. In the moment, neither of them could even slow down to take notice.

It took them mere moments to pull off their button-up shirts and slacks, tossing them carelessly against the far walls. Nearly hitting several framed photographs of the old Kurosawa family in the process, but they’d likely endured far worse hanging up on those walls all those years.

Soldiers knew how to get to it fast. Fighting, feasting, fucking.

Miki Kurosawa really was a brick, but Sasha couldn’t see a single thing wrong with that, or anything to be embarrassed of. Her sheer physical fitness indicated both winning the genetic lottery, and an abundance of hard work and discipline.

Those eight-pack abs, sent rippling with every anxious hitched breath, her thick-set shoulders and arms flexing unconsciously beneath his appraising gaze… obviously, the hardness didn’t take one thing away from her modest, but exceptionally cute breasts, which he went to work on the moment her sky-blue cotton bra was tossed aside.

Sure, he could appreciate the much larger heft common to the village, but a meal with only one ingredient could bore even a boy raised on rations. Miki’s body was a mess of contractions he wanted to mess up and worship equally.

Evidently, she liked what she saw, too, from how often he caught her staring during yardwork and clearing farm plots. If nothing else, her eyes, now wet with tears, could still trail down his own v-shaped, masculine body. He didn’t sport a bodybuilder’s frame as far as men went, but it was still harder and more angular than even hers. She put a hand against him to admire his masculine energy.

There was barely ten pounds of fat between them, and that was only because she’d been getting very slowly better at cooking.

Their fitness meant neither of them were likely to tire out all night. On a passing impulse, he reached back to lock the bedroom door, and he drew the curtains. Though he intended to make her scream loud enough to carry right through the windows and out into the night. Before she could ask what came next, he threw her backwards, sprawling onto the bed, and pounced.

Not thrusting yet. Just licking all over, every inch.

The obvious spots required his attention, but his intentions were clear when he started against her neck, which she bared to him. Yet he didn’t stay there. Sasha roamed down her bare, pale skin. He went wherever he pleased, and admired the way he could paint pleasure across her in every way imaginable. Biting, licking, suckling, reaching up to touch with either his hot, strong right hand or cold left metal replacement, mixing the sensations and making her feel metal against skin.

She protested something about needing a bath, but that was another thing they were both more than used to. It just added to the flavoring and earthy scents of this exceptionally cute girl, one he was set to devour, before breeding the fuck out of her until that queen-sized old oak bed shattered beneath them.

Her legs found their way around him, and pulled him closer, so she could return the favor with a breathless kiss. Sasha murmured into her mouth, voice lowered and laced with pure lust, “Miki, bear my children.”

She wailed and thrashed against what had been, until that point, immaculately-made bedsheets.

“Y-Yes sir~”