windfall | unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

( continued from here! )

[ Denji stares up Aki's way, visibly annoyed, as she brooks another crest of colorless smoke invading her senses, slender tendrils ghosting over their heads, nearly transparent in the lamplight. This nicotine-addicted slag. Always with the insults… It means kissing! She kissed them! What other meaning could make out have? Still, she roughly erases what characters she was writing (she'd forgotten midway what the stroke pattern to one kanji was), decorating her report in rubber shavings. ]

I mean, you saw Emi-chan's stuff. A bunch of her dresses and skirts looked kinda itchy, but she had some grown-up outfits in the very, very back!

[ Instead of writing what she took, her pencil draws a series of doodles across the page: some peanut snacks, a bottle of tea looted from the mini fridge, a vial that she kindly labels as pirfume, and then the garment bag. ]

So I took one, since I don't got a whole lotta those. [ Most of her closet is filled with clothes from the secondhand store… and some secondhand straight from Aki's own wardrobe. For example, the tanktop she's wearing under her blouse right now. ] It's gonna make my rack look suuuper sexy on me, and then guys will be linin' up outside our apartment to take me on dates to the zoo and all that!

[ No, Denji doesn't know what the proper attire is for a zoo date. ]

…'course I'm not gonna go, seeing as I'm already taken. But you get the idea. What'd you get?

[ If she's remembering correctly, Aki's hands didn't look as full as her own walking out of the dressing room. Did she not take anything and now she's regretting it? ]

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[It's a good reminder why she doesn't reach for this thing very often. Denji punches the speed up and it's like her whole body has static racing through it, like she's touched a live wire and can't let go. Even as she keeps the vibrator from pressing right up against her, it's still rough enough that her thighs quake under the double assault of fingers and buzzing. Because the fingers, really, those are what push it over the edge if she thinks too long about it. The way she pumps them in an out at such a steady, incessant rate is enough to make her head spin and even if she were able to cope with that sensation, the vibrator knocks her knees out from under her every time. This was a bad idea, she thinks to herself, and then Denji is shoving right up against that sweet spot inside of her and outside of her at the same time and she can't keep a groan from leaving her throat, heavy and deep and unconcerned with who hears it since that isn't something she can think about right now. Her thighs keep quaking and she thinks for a moment that she's going to chew right through to blood at this rate, bite right into her muscle and bone and take out a whole chunk.]

[Her thighs squeeze together. Before, when she had Denji face-down in her cunt, she felt like she was the one leading this, that this was her idea and Denji wouldn't surprise her with much. And aside from the way she bit at her fingers and used her own slick, that was the case. This - This is way different. Denji could just turn her over at this rate with how stiff her body has gotten and how few coherent thoughts are going through her brain right now. And she wants to, seriously and truly, hate that. She wants to slap her and tell her to lower the speed and do things at Aki's pace. But then her fingers twist around inside her and thump into her so harshly and so rapidly that she thinks she might actually start drooling.]

[Leave it to Denji to fuck things up for her.]

Come - Fuck - [If that's a warning or a plead for her not to stop, to keep going just as she is, who knows. Aki would never admit either way. She exhales harsh and heavy as her thighs flinch and her hips jerk back and forward, fucking herself against Denji's fingers and into the vibrator, trying to keep just the right amount of pressure and failing miserably. Her whole body feels like a tightly wound mess.]

[ God, it feels like being mauled by a starved bear that's fresh out of hibernation.

Aki's teeth cuts close to the sunken corners of her neck, bludgeoning through blood vessels and transforming the skin beneath into tongue-wet splotches — but for Denji, there's no discerning where the pain ends and the pleasure wisps in. She relishes all of it like a special whipped dessert, gamely, giddily, a pleased purr sounding in her throat, scratchy-toned, triggered by the lock of her hand in-between Aki's clenched thighs. Funny, she used to think of her as some uppity old maid, and now that same woman is senselessly hammering herself down on just two of her fingers. What a feeling, to bring someone to honesty. She almost wonders what would happen if she slipped a third in. It'd be so easy.

But she bites back the compulsion. She has to focus. There are stakes here — Aki's close, so she'd rather persist in her hunt for something else, something ridged and fleshy, that won't get her kicked flat out on her ass into the frigid hallway. Continuing to feed her fingers into her cunt, she searches, jerking, edging along to find that one precious spot. Rubs so hard at the slippery muscle and heat inside, the vibrations of her wrist nearly overtake the buzz of the toy. It's not good enough. This position is too — ]

C'mon, c'mon, [ — and that's when Denji's fingers disappear from her cunt, her arm clenched around Aki's side to brace her back as she twists their torsos, flipping her over into the mattress, the bed frame writhing from the abrupt turnaround. In the reversal, the toy only slightly flicked closer to her entrance — but it's only for a moment, before the head shoots back up her folds, back to her clit, juicy and bursting, so that Denji can slam forward on top of her. Her fingertips shoved back where it belongs: pressed into that thick patch of nerves inside Aki with each hard thrust. ]

C'mon, c'mon, you can do it —

[She's right there. She's right there, right up against it. Like pushing on a door for so long, putting your whole weight against it, craving the final release of the latch on the other side, for the gasp of sensation as you fall into it -]

[And then Denji's fingers yank out and Aki nearly chokes. She opens her mouth to snap at her, a hacking sort of pre-cough sound coming out instead as her back hits the bed and the vibrator cinches against her hole. She can tell what Denji's doing, here, but it doesn't stop her from being pissed, furious, beet-red from the cruelty of the motion, and that red face is soon thrown back with a groan as she resumes her assault.]

You stupid - bitch - [Her hips flinch and jerk wildly, unsteady and uncoordinated as Denji coaxes her. She wants to slap her across the face, pin her against the wall and choke her until she can't make a sound, shove her knee into her cunt and make her grind against it until she's whimpering. Her bottom lip burns bright like a bruised cherry from how harsh her teeth digs into it and then the door finally snaps open and she falls forward with a startled, loud gasp. The orgasm that rolls through her is like being slammed by a tidal wave.]

[Aki blinks in shock, her legs flinching and shifting in an attempt to avoid the continued sensation when she comes down. Her orgasm was silent yet heavy, almost like a blackout except she can remember every single moment of it. Every second, every shift of Denji's fingers, every breath through her nose and lips. Like being underwater and hearing the echo of motion on the other side of the pool. She blinks again, harder this time, a lone tear rolling down the side of her face which doesn't quite match the look of disorientation in her features.]

[There's silent, for a long minute. Only the sight of her chest rising and falling with shuddered breaths. She needs...]

...Second drawer.

[Her voice even sounds shaky. In the second drawer of her bedside table is an unopened box of cigarettes, neatly packed to one side along with a lighter. Even though she quit, she knew she might need them at some point.]

[ Denji barely recognizes what she's done as an infraction, as worthy of a pair of jaws nipping at her, spraying spit and vitriol in her face. Maybe that's the bulldog in her; all she really wants to take in is the tremor moving through Aki's entire musculature, her skin and thighs, as if something intrinsic inside of her were fraying, reshaping. Her puffy, slick-warm folds rolling down her knuckles, a mouth swallowing candy down from the stick, hurrying to get to the surprise center. ]

Fuck. [ — the curse punches out of her as she watches. Sweat stings the rim of her eyes, but she forces herself not to blink while her fingers jam in, just right, palm grinding hard into her pussy, shoving and shoving. The smell of sex coming off of her, off them both, dilutes every thought in her head into an unintelligible string of fucks and she's burning, she's so wet, so tight. And it even if Denji's not the one getting off, even if Aki looks like she wants to slam her face into a door hard enough that the bloodstain won't come out — it feels so damnably good. She can't possibly expect her to feel bad about about throwing her off, can she?

The vibrator drums at Aki's clit, close to forgotten at this point with Denji leaning into each thrust of her fingers, her pelvis backing each slam, trying to gouge out more sounds from her — and when she doesn't hear anything else, when finally nothing comes out besides the creak of her throat airlessly vacuuming in oxygen, that's how Denji knows what's incoming. Without thinking, without care for Aki might jab or twist away from her, she presses forward, desperate to feel her spasming and warm against her. Part of her face turned into the pillow, she noses into her cheek, licking up the tear routing its way down.

And then stillness. And then not. ]

Mm? [ Slow to connect the dots, that's the only thing Aki gets for a bit, until her chin lifts, revealing Denji's openly squinting gaze.

A soft click turns off the vibrator. Denji lets it roll off to the side of the bed, throwing a hand out to blindly reach for the nightstand. She's too far. Grunting, she flops off from Aki, wincing as her tailbone sits on the curved plastic of the toy, and then she flops over again, pulling out the first drawer. The drawer bangs back in after she does feel anything noteworthy, and her hand drops a step to the second drawer. ]

What'm I even… Ah.

[ Finding them side by side, she quickly retrieves the cigarette carton, the cold lighter, both tucked into her fingers. She briefly looks down at the items, the scrunch of her brows. ]

Never mind, [ she says, though nothing she said before warrants the phrase. ] Here.

[Staring up at the ceiling as her body cools too suddenly, like a boiling pot set on a mat soaked with cool water, Aki only listens as Denji rolls away from her, fumbles around in her drawers. She's usually so specific about letting her do anything like this - hell, letting anyone go through her things isn't something she would gladly ever do without comment. But right now she needs one thing, and it's the familiar feeling of the box of unopened cigarettes and a lighter paired in her palm.]

[She doesn't even sit up as she opens the box, taps one out. Sets it between her lips before bringing the flame down to burn the tip. The angle is awkward but she's clearly done this before, an effortless snap sounding when it's lit before she places the pair of items down and takes a deep, deep drag of the nicotine.]

[Her head is spinning.]

Go get a towel. [She feels soaked with sweat and damp with her own wetness. The sheets are going to need to be changed tomorrow. If she could kick Denji, maybe she would - but thankfully her legs are as stiff and gelatinous as a custard wrongly placed in the freezer. She couldn't even nudge her with a toe.]

...Hell you even do that for, [she mutters, the smoke hovering over her as she takes another deep suck of the cigarette. Like this was something Denji did to spite her.]

[ Aki's not the only one sticky with lethargy. She'd usually whine at her for breathing her smelly ash breath indoors (and in her direction), but she can barely dredge the words out of herself, forget about unroll from the layers of sheets half-draped over both of their legs. The dull look she sends her way transmits as much. Likely more.

But still, she turns, shows the lean, red-splotched length of her back to Aki, scooting her feet over the edge of the bed, balancing her curled toes against the base board. Denji tucks a few loose strands of her hair behind an ear. Quietly says to her: ] Just wanted to pay you back.

[ This could be for anything: the makeup tutorial, for helping with the report, or for partnering with her on Emi-chan's case, or even just for waking her up this morning. Odds are, it's for everything and then some. ]

I didn't want ya t'say I couldn't stay after all, either. Guess I wanted you to need me?

[ With that stupid answer aired out, and the keen sense she's admitted too much, Denji shuffles out, quickly. However, just as she does, she realizes something: She really needs to pee — again. This time in a proper toilet. Aki's towel is going to have to wait a bit.

After the little strips of blood dancing in her urine are flushed, her hands washed, a towel flung across her neck, and she's made a pit stop by the fridge, she peeks her raggedy head back into the room. Like, she's trying to see if the coast is clear — but, no, there's still the scent of cigarettes toasting the air. Her nose wrinkles, but she still makes it back to Aki, handing over the towel, then a bottle of ice-cold water. Another of its kind wrung between Denji's hands, her teeth worrying at her lips. ]

Aki… Can I still stick around 'til morning?

[Denji lays out her logic and Aki only watches her from where she lays, cigarette set between her lips as she tries to weed out the strangeness within the logic she states. Pay her back... Pay her back for what? Denji gets up and builds on her logic and still Aki says nothing, only watches her and only takes another drag when she finally exits the room, listens to the toilet flush and the sink run.]

[Such a weird kid. Didn't she tell her she could stay in here tonight...? If anything, she's the one who made it complicated, not Aki. As her legs re-grow their sensation and she can finally sit upright, turn herself around in her bed to lean against the headboard. She hasn't smoked for long enough that the smell is a little unusual now, the taste gross, similar to what it was like when she first started. The calming hum of nicotine in her body still works just like it used to, but the cigarette is only half-smoked by the time she's crushing the rest of it on a ceramic coaster set on her nightstand that hasn't been used as an ashtray in a long time. At some point she refused to smoke inside anymore. When Denji comes back and hands her the towel, looks at her like a little sister about to ask to borrow her clothes tonight... The eventual request has her leveling a tired, unenthused stare at her.]

I already told you that you could. [She slides the towel between her legs, mopping the warm and sticky sensation away before reaching for the water. After the cigarette on top of the sex, the chill tastes good sliding down her throat.] But I'm not going to keep doing this until morning.

[She slides over with that said, opening the space to her and allowing Denji to climb in. She's still naked and her hips feel sore and she should get up and actually clean up, take a piss or something... but with Denji, there's no actual need to be so official about any of this. In fact, it'll just send her the wrong message. She lifts the edge of the covers.]

Come here.

[ So what if it's needy of her to seek out a second confirmation. It's what she wants: Aki's tobacco-warmed voice telling her that, yes, this is okay. Yes, Denji is allowed to push through her misgivings. Linger longer than the stale scent in the room, the graying vapors hovering overhead, the dying embers shriveling in the ashtray. Yes, she can stay. She wants to hear it again and again until it's burned into her eardrums, or etched into the sky — a contract that can't be undone.

…Maybe that's too dramatic of an ask, after just having sex for the first time, though. For now, she'll settle for settling in. Planting her flag. Her eyes are getting heavy, anyway. ]

Fine. If you're that wiped out, [ she mumbles in the midst of vanishing inside the open blankets, possibly to smuggle her pouting face in without Aki's notice. Disregarding the cool spots from where they carried out their mess, the sheets are still toasty underneath, warmer than even when she shares a bed with Power. Usually, it'd have her wanting to kick her toes outside, but… Denji scooches in until their hips are touching, their arms squished side-by-side, the back of her hand resting against Aki's. She stops herself there.

On her back, she stares at the ceiling, her eyelids drooping lower and lower with each passing second. By the morning, she'll probably have let go of the mystery behind Emi-chan and her fiend, and she'll have to consider her date with Makima more seriously. She'll have to pick out an outfit, do her own makeup. She'll have to wake up and drag herself out of Aki's bed. And, for some reason, she doesn't want any of that to arrive just yet. For some reason, she doesn't want to sleep. Doesn't want to wake up, either.

However, that's a battle she's been fighting all night, and it's one she won't win, unfortunately. But before she surrenders to that bittersweet lull…

Denji can't tell if Aki's still awake or not when she turns over, chin spilling out onto her shoulder, but it doesn't really matter. Her hand curls loosely at Aki's fingers. A few seconds pass by of Denji matching her breaths to the gentle up-and-down of her chest. Just watching.

Then, slowly, quietly, she plants a kiss on her cheek — the second one it's received that evening. ]

Night, Aki.

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unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

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