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? ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's always exciting to experience an orgasm through a kiss. Denji's body flexes and bends and flinches as it runs through her and Aki doesn't shy away from her lips, eagerly (eagerly? crap, this really did become "eager" at some point) swallowing up the noises she makes and the breaths that leak out. She only backs off when Denji does, briefly nipping her lip as they separate before setting her head down on the bed, slipping her fingers free. She can feel her arousal soaking her enough to give her raisins on the pads of each one that was inside her. But then Denji is tugging her over her, coaxing her up and on top of her body. Maybe she wants to cuddle again...? She moves without much pause, then raises her brows at her declaration.]

...I'm older than you, you know. I don't bounce back that quickly. [She settles her legs on either side of her but doesn't put any weight on her body, doesn't use her as a seat.] Didn't expect you to, either. [Not that she's shaming her, it was just... surprising. In fact, they're in the opposite situation to how this all began, aren't they? After a moment, she admits,] I thought you just wanted to get warm. Not get off again.

I — like getting off.

[ Put simply, rasped by a glassy-eyed Denji, breaths still licking up her parched throat in accelerated waves. That's probably the only answer she needs to explain herself. But eyes drawn up to Aki, Denji's head cushioned by her pillow, body nestled comfortably in her bed, sandwiched between her legs — she finds it all too easy to run her mouth. Sleepily, she slides up from Aki's ankle to the interior of her thigh, fingers rubbing at the fine grittiness coating her otherwise soft skin. ]

Sometimes, if I put the work in, I can do a few at a time. Not so much after I moved out here, since I'm so busy being a working class citizen now — which bites. Usually, I just wanna take a long nap right after the first go.

[ So its become more of a procedural thing. Something to titillate her imagination, reset her brain, end the night on a peak. And if she feels extra good, that's just another cherry to enjoy. Who knows if it's like that for other folks, though. Note to self, ask Aki one of these days. ]

But I thought, with you, I could do it. You really can't go again?

[Then Denji gets it. The exhaustion that takes over you, as a "working class citizen." Aki wants to argue that she wouldn't give herself such a title, she's at least middle class, but with her fingers traveling, she settles for giving her a tired look at her insistence.]

I don't push it, since I'm satisfied with one. There's such a thing as over-consumption.

[Denji will never understand such a concept. Aki shifts her hips opening her legs up and all at once allowing Denji's fingers against her.]

You've got five minutes, but if I'm still tired by then, then we're going to bed. Got it?

[ Denji won't ever understand the concept, particularly where Aki's concerned. Her life is so short, and she's always so flippant about giving her time, like they're grains falling away into the ground. There's no limit to what she'll never be able to taste or try or hold in her arms. How could she want to stop? She could tell Denji that she simply has different priorities, that sex isn't life or death the same way it is for her, and it'd still be mind-boggling.

Her gaze glimmers up at Aki, hawk-eyed, as if expecting the tiniest itch of Aki's arm to escalate into her abandoning the perch she's taken above Denji. If she weren't dipping each one of her fingers against her tongue, carefully wetting them, she'd pout. ]

What the hell… [ She traces the curve of Aki's slit, gently rocking the heel of hand in without pushing inside. Seeming to have learned her lesson. ] You'd just leave in the middle?

[There's something cute about the way Denji licks her fingers, wetting each one before her hand reaches down and plays low at her folds, doesn't push in immediately. She's learning, Aki thinks, but doesn't comment on. Sitting up on her arms like this might be something she regrets later, but for now, she's telling herself this will all end with Denji blueballed, so who cares?]

If you can't figure it out, I'm not going to sit here and be your test run all night long. We have work in the morning.

[She shifts her legs, splaying them out and open a little further.]

Besides, this is my room... I'm the one who let you come in here. [So Denji will be sent away, instead of Aki leaving.] You think you can?

[ The leisure upwards kneading of her fingers stutters, stalling for a heartbeat. She can't refute that this is Aki's room, that she's been welcomed into her entire apartment, and everyday she falls asleep in sheets that woman chose. But this whole thing is a big deal to Denji, and she's still thinking about work at a time like this? Maybe she's intentionally riling her up to some uncertain end — but she's not particularly talented at sussing that sort of thing out.

Sulkily, a crease flourishes in the center of her brow, the rubbing at Aki's cunt picking back up again, meaner, middle finger ajar from the rest; the sultry gap between her folds was already wide from the spread of her legs, but now she lets her touch ride her slickness. Still without pushing in. ]

Are you always this bitchy to the people you sleep with? Or do I get special treatment?

[...Bitchy... Aki stares down at her, jaw clenched with the attempt to hold back a grimace. It doesn't work well. Before Denji can get much further, can even get close to pushing in, Aki sits upright off of her and leans back toward her nightstand.]

You get special treatment.

[She digs around for a moment before finding what she's after, bringing it back and dropping it onto the bed beside Denji: a wand vibrator, simple and uncomplicated. If she's going to complain about Aki's attitude, then she'll make it uncomplicated and straightforward.]

Use that.

[ Denji looses a half-distraught noise at Aki's absence, hand pawing uselessly at the air where she was once perched. Just as she's pushing up on an elbow, she gets a eyeful of vibrator; she stares at it, mouth pulled back, as if Aki whipped her across the face with the toy. ]

…You're not gonna let me touch you?

[ Is she trying to say that the vibrator could do a better job of making her feel good? Though she continues staring, expression complicated, Denji does unwillingly take hold of it, testing its lift with a light waver of her hand. ]

[Given the dark look that comes over Aki's face, the mental image she has of smacking Denji's head against the wall may as well be playing out on a projector from her eyes.]

You're such a needy brat. Get moving before I throw you out.

[Honestly, this is giving her flashbacks to the way Himeno would look at her, crawled up against her in bed and cooing at her endlessly for another round, all the whining when told he couldn't put it in... Aki reaches out to grab the toy, her hand wrapping around Denji's as she finds the control for it and switches it on.]

Start low. Here. [And she settles herself back over her, guiding her hand down with an impatient tug.]

[ Aki's violent imagination could be painted from wall to wall, illustrating her frustration with her in bold, bloody lashes, and Denji would still tilt and turn her head at her in complete confusion. Her neck fluffs back against the pillow but she couldn't be more uncomfortable, eyeing the humming wand, vibration set to its default intensity. The buzzing, discreet enough to avoid penetrating outside the room.

Moving, as she's been so kindly urged to, Denji lines the vibrator's silicone bulb to the wet-brimmed opening of her pussy, her hold on the handle unsteady for a second as she nudges aside one of her lips, not confident about the placement. ]

Gettin' to it, [ she testily snaps, her free hand sat on the corner of Aki's inner thigh, thumb stretching out her skin in an attempt to keep her spread. ] Don't throw me out…

[Denji presses the vibrator against her and it's maybe a good thing that she has her hand on the inside of her thigh, keeping her tugged open. Her immediate instinct is to pull her legs shut, surprised by the sudden buzz of the toy as her back bows slightly to attempt to angle the head better. She really shouldn't have given this option to her while she was on top.]

Like that - Good. [Her hips flinch a little from a brush against oversensitive parts, her body fluttering around the vibration as she tries to find a comfortable position. The hand grasping Denji's wrist tries to tug her up further, closer to her clit.] Yeah - That's better. [Her face is growing flushed because this isn't something she reaches for very often. It's a little too strong but, kept at its default speed, it should be fine... Right?]

Yeah? [ Her touch travels up, massaging, squeezing, flattening over Aki's stomach, feeling the twitch of her muscles reacting to the sensation. She could mistake her for fighting against it. ] What about it?

[ With Aki's insistence leading Denji, she shifts the vibrator, watching her nub redden like the cracked pit of a fruit with the direct pulsations, a pale slick already generously coating the head. Technically, that sight could be answer alone to her question, but that isn't what she's talking about here. ]

I mean — how's it feel? Compared to when I do it. Can't really touch you like that… [ A pout pushes at her lips, her thumb playing with the toy's controls — she doesn't really know her way around this thing, but it seems her tapping is met with success. She can feel the vibrations more harshly through the handle now, tingling her fingers — it almost sounds like one of her chainsaws, purring with the strength of something that can cut through anything. ] Or make ya feel like this.

[The change in vibrations is just enough to eke out a quiet groan, the way Denji concentrates it right on her clit making her legs twitch and shiver harder. She reaches down to grab her wrist and try to pull her back a little. Push her down against the opening of her cunt - but that doesn't really lessen the sensation at all, only changes the direct spot it hits. Aki shifts her hips up as if searching for the right place to settle.]

It's not - Just... It's not like that, it's... [What is she answering, again? Something silly and idiotic that she doesn't really care about. Something about assuaging Denji's anxieties. The vibrator nudges a little further into her when she shifts and her body echoes the sensation all the way up to her spine and it's all she can do not to flop right over. God, actually, that would be better than struggling on her elbows. Without asking or warning she lowers herself down on top of Denji, her chest pressing into hers as she presses her mouth against her neck. Not so much kissing as mouthing.] Just keep going. Like that. [She's never attempted conversation while using a vibrator before. Now she knows why.]

[ Oomph. ]

Heavy —

[ For the unexpected weight burdening her chest, sinking her deeper into the comforter, it doesn't bother Denji as much as her complaining might imply. She tolerates it, if only for the magnified view of Aki struggling to get more than one word out, the curious quiver of her thighs rubbing together as if trying to spark a chemical reaction, numbly arching into the toy for more. Each breath of hers wrapping around her throat, around another spoiled demand. It's eye-opening. Maybe she likes Aki bitching at her, after all.

Fighting off Aki's pull at her wrist, she reduces the push of the vibrator, drawing it away by the smallest fraction, just enough for Aki to feel the dangle of it out of her reach. The head slides up Denji's crotch, the untrimmed patch of hair there, and she wheezes shortly at the foreign sensation, squirming under her, nipples butting up against Aki's breasts. At this setting, it's too much; she's not sure if she likes it any better or less than Aki's fingers tweaking her, but maybe it's because she's still recovering — and, anyway, this isn't about what she likes. Aki's proximity opens Denji to move her free hand, her touch grazing down the sticky underside of her ass. At the same time that she caresses her pussy, she lumps two of her fingers together, plunging into her opening, Denji shoves the vibrator back up, not quite humming fully against her clit, but forced into the bottom side of it.

Mouth dipped down, letting her teeth skim Aki's ear: ]

You — slut. You just keep this thing next to your bed? When I'm… right next door. Y'could just call me over.

[Denji is blathering. She must be, because the things she says are tickling an annoying bone in Aki's body, niggling at her and teasing a swear from her lips. She wants to roll her over and spank her over her knee for saying something so dirty, so stupid - why the hell would Aki go to her for sexual relief? - until her fingers are suddenly stuffed into her just as the vibrator presses hard against the base, sensitive skin below her nub. For a moment she doesn't even remember being mad at her. Just stays perfectly still to make sure the sensation doesn't change.]

[Then, something snaps her back to attention, the reminder of who is under her, whose fingers those are and who is controlling the toy. In lieu of flipping her over and ruining this pleasure, Aki instead gives a sharp, warning bite to Denji's collar, no words spoken but given the brief chew of her skin she expects her to understand. Of all the people to be called a slut, the one that squirted all down her arm fits the definition much, much more closely.]

Don't fuck it up. [She grinds her hips into the toy and her fingers at once, those gritted-out words the only warning she gives her for the moment before she continues, rocking herself toward more pleasure, more sensation. She told Denji not to use her as a sex toy, but, isn't that exactly what she's doing now with her? That's fine - Aki can blithely ignore the double standard when it suits her best.]

Hmph — big talk.

[ Don't fuck it up, she tells Denji, as if she's still at high risk of getting kicked to the curb, as if she's still trying to hold that over her like glinting guillotine, but as things stand, she can't really see it. She'd love to laugh in her face about it, too, but the acute sensation of teeth gnawing at her skin seamlessly disrupts that train of thought. Conjures forth a breathy moan, instead, breasts heaving up with the departure of air. Damn it, she can't let her get to her.

Her wrist tilts, as does the vibrator, taking her time to draw out Aki's pleasure as the drenched bulb circles and throbs against her clit. With another click, a louder buzzing generates from between their hips, strengthening to the point that she can feel flecks of Aki's wetness spritzing her thighs — she tries holding off on pressing too deeply into her with the toy, focusing more on keeping contact to a light brush. It's a more merciful touch than what's fucking into her cunt, that's for sure. Leaning up into her body, trying to pull her in closer, her fingers dive in and out in a rhythm she's gradually grown familiar with tonight, swimming in the tightness of her tender insides. Rubbing up into the ridges of her flesh in an concentrated effort to push right into that single splendid spot. ]

[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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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

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