Straight like a gummy worm.
Natsuki looked across the room at where Shizuru was standing talking to her attendants and wondered how the holy fuck this had happened.
For hundredsof years, she'd stuck single-mindedly to one very vital goal: Revenge on the exorcists who'd condemned, crippled, and exiled her for a crime she hadn't committed, as well as brutally slaughtering every single one of her feral clan. Tenacity was her damn middle name. Setbacks; who cared? She'd continue to live long after any setbacks were long dead and rotted to nothing. She wouldhave what she wanted, and she would have it no matter what.
For decades, she'd clung to the hope for vengeance, and had never let anything so much as distract her. And she was so close now—the Holy Sword – Murakumo, just needed a little more power, and it would have reached its maximum potential. Showtime; in a matter of months or years, she'd finally be able to reclaim her treasured artifact and openly defy those arrogant bastards who had long used in the name of god as a absolutely lame license to kill indiscriminately, and then break her bindings at last, reclaim real life.
Only thing was, somehow that voracious desire for revenge had somehow gotten sidelined. And now, all she really wanted… all she really needed…
Had she just gone crazy somewhere along the lines? Natsuki wondered helplessly, shaking her head as she continued to trace Shiruzu's movements with her sight. That was really the only rational explanation for it.
The age difference alone, and the difference of species, made it obscene. There was the discrepancy in innocence, too. Shizuru was a good person, and she was already mixed up enough in all of this that Nastuki should know better than to drag her in any further. Natsuki was a walking disaster; anyone that got near her invariably ended up the worse for it in the long run. Having Shizuru as a friend and ally was bad enough, but—
But that didn't stop her from daydreaming.
Or, okay, let's be honest—why the hell not, at this point—obsessing.
Natsuki had never particularly wanted, needed, or thought about sex. The thought of being that close to another person was, after everything that had happened to her, repelling. To be fair, there hadbeen that time with Chikane all those centuries ago, but she'd been nearly incapable of thinking back then and hadn't realized where things were going until they were there. It had all worked out. Chikane had been a man-hater, and since she was a werewolf like her and the Murakumo had bonded to her, Natsuki's desperate plans for vengeance would've been consigned to pipedreams if she hadn't loved Himeko enough to elope with her, taking Murakumo along with her. But, again—it was an accident, an embarrassment. That had been borderline rape. Thinking about it still made her a little queasy.
Hence, it really did not make sense the way she was feeling now.
It was irrational, but she couldn't escape these desires—whenever Shizuru came near, Natsuki's heart would give a little flip in her chest, and then she'd start wanting.
She wanted to get her hands on those long waves of blond hair, feel for herself if they were really as silken as they looked. She wanted to know how those callused hands would feel on her body, wanted to trace the lean lines of her waist, wanted the light trace of those fingertips down her back.
She wanted to be touched, wanted to be held, wanted to be had in raw and desperate need in the small hours of the night. She wanted to settle into Shizuru's arms, wanted to hear the vampire's voice go velveteen the way it did when she was being gentle, wanted to be told that everything was alright, wanted to be told that she was loved. She wanted that long, hot, sweet romance-novel kiss, and everything that came after.
The want was like an itch that couldn't be scratched whenever Shizuru came anywhere near her, something she fought to suppress so that Shizuru would continue on in ignorance of exactly what her presence was doing to the werewolf. When she was alone, the want would ambush her suddenly and have her dreaming of things she'd forbidden herself for so long.
At night, those desires would wake her up hot and sweating and crazy with need and she would let those half-formed dreams take hold, giving in to lust and running her hands over her own body until she broke and lay there ashamed and panicked and not understanding what was happening to her.
Damn it, she hadn't come this far to be afflicted by some kind of adolescent insanity right at the most critical part of her plans.
Insanity. Infatuation. Desire. Or maybe, love.
It all amounted to basically the same thing.
But she couldn't get Shizuru any more involved with her, Natsuki reminded herself again, wrapping her arms around her chest as she shivered. She was already only here in Kyoto to suggest a war when the time was right, so that the Exorcist Order would be forced into using the Murakumo until it was at the apex of its powers and Natsuki could take it back. Dammit. She shouldn't care this much. If she wasn't fully in control of her senses, she could slip up, and Kyoto would be destroyed in conflict.
Besides.
She doesn't know whether Shizuru was straight or otherwise.
So she stood there and watched longingly and dreamed of Shizuru's touch while she watched her friend and ally finish her conversation, then wave off her attendants and cross the room; Towards her.
Natsuki wanted to sink down on the floor and beg to be taken, wanted to run forward and fling herself into Shizuru's arms. She did neither. Instead, she stood still and hoped Shizuru would go off somewhere else.
She didn't.
"Can I talk to you alone for a bit?" Shizuru asked.
Before Natsuki could agree, disagree, or demand to know if Shizuru was insane, tempting her like this, Shizuru had taken her by the arm and was leading her off down the hall towards her own private quarters.
Once they were inside—Shizuru was locking the door, Natsuki realized in bewilderment and slight nervousness—she crossed her arms again and watched the blonde a little warily. "What is it?"
Shizuru just headed back towards her, coming closer and closer until Natsuki was forced to take a step back and feel the wall cold against her shoulders, and gazed down at her with something dangerous glinting in the depths of those unfathomable violet eyes. "…Natsuki. I'd like to try something…"
And before she could ask what, Shizuru had leaned down and their lips were tangled up in a fevered kiss.
Fulfilment had her moaning and arching up against that soft, slender body before she could think any words beyond what the hell—?Confused and hopelessly out of her depth, Natsuki readily surrendered as Shizuru put one arm around her waist and the other across her back, proceeding to kiss her deaf, mute, and blind.
When Shizuru at last let go, Natsuki collapsed against the wall and slid nerveless to the floor, dizzy and shaking and wanting and hurting with love.
"I knew it," Shizuru said softly, kneeling down in front of her. "You've been watching me with that face like your heart's breaking for so long, but—I had to be sure. You have feelings for me, don't you…?"
Of course I bloody do; I want you to throw me down and make me yours right here, right now— But she didn't say it. Instead, she just shook her head numbly. "Shizuru, I—we can't, you're—"
"There are a million and one reasons why we can't,"Shizuru said with an impatient wave of her hand. "I'm not interested in them. All I need to know is, do you want me like I want you?"
I'm dreaming. Or I'm insane. Or she is. Hot, desperate want refused to let those thoughts any further. Natsuki couldn't speak. All she could do was nod once.
Thoughts slid together and melted into incoherent confusion and desire as Shizuru leaned in and kissed her again, then picked her up effortlessly and carried her off towards the bed. She didn't know if she could ever understand how this was happening, or why. She only knew that she'd been sick with need for this for so long that it would be insanity to protest.
There was pain. There was pleasure. There was the answer to every dream she'd ever held. And then, there was glory.
Later—much later—as the two of them lay curled together, Natsuki staring up at the canopy of the bed, she set her nails to her bare skin and pressed down hard. It hurt; A lot. She wasn't dreaming.
"Why—all this?" she asked aloud.
"Well, for one thing—constantly being stared at with that bedroom face has a strange way of making me hot. For another—I know that what I feel about you isn't what friends usually feel for each other. I'm not sure if I'm falling in love with you or what, but… I know what my body wants. There's nothing wrong with us giving each other what we need."
That made sense. That made too much sense. Natsuki was tired, so maybe she'd let that serve as an explanation for now.
There was one thing, however, that did not make sense.
"But—you're straight," she protested at last.
Shizuru chuckled.
Pushing herself up on her elbows, she traced one finger in a gentle wave in the air. "I'm about as straight as a gummy worm," she illustrated with unabashed honesty.
"…oh" Natsuki suddenly felt very stupid.
"Luckily for both of us, my gaydar seems to be a lot more functional than yours." Closing her eyes, Shizuru lay back down. "…Natsuki, just let this be a lesson to not jump to conclusions without asking to make sure first."
"…right…"
This would require a lot of thought and some discussion between the two of them and probably more hot, sweaty, absolutely insane sex.
She might not know how the hell they'd gotten here, but she was going to find out where the hell they were going next.
After she got some sleep. Hopefully this would make more sense when she woke up.
Straight like a gummy worm, she thought to herself with a delicate snort as she let her magic go, giving in to the waves of overpowering darkness. Shizuru, you sure do have a knack for complicating things.
Omake
"Say Shizuru…"
"Yes?"
"What the hell do you mean by 'straight like a gummy worm'?"
"Have you ever seen a perfectly straight gummy worm before?"
"…oh…"