Disclaimer: I don't own it!
A/N: I'm alive! First thing up in a while - getting back into the swing of things, hopefully something will be up for Loudmouth and the Loner soon =) Anyway, without further adue...
Naughty Natsuki
Natsuki looked at the screen in front of her in disbelief.
The characters and figures seemed to blur together into a hazy 'fuck you' as she stared at them; merging before her until she tore herself away, slumping forwards in her seat with wide eyes and a pounding heart.
It was so damn expensive!
Glancing up again to check, the blunette quickly brought her head down once she saw the figures remained the same.
How in the hell was she supposed to study at Kyoto University when it involved fees like that?
It was completely insane, beyond insane, for the charges to be that high. Yes, Natsuki had the fund her father had left her...but if the fees for the University were that high, what were the living expenses going to be like? Social expenses? She'd burn through the money like a flame on dry paper – it just wasn't practical or sensible, and the rebel knew she should stop looking...yet she also knew she couldn't.
Why?
Shizuru was studying at Kyoto University...and where the tea addict went, the biker was intent on following. Had to follow really – it had stopped being a choice over the last year while they'd be separated; while they'd both experienced the pure torture and frustration that came with being apart. They'd barely started dating before they'd been forced to deal with the distance between them, and to Natsuki it was nothing short of hell...she simply had to get closer, had to be nearer...and that meant Kyoto University.
That meant Kyoto University's insane tuition fees.
Growling under her breath, she stood abruptly and stalked over to her fridge like an angry leopard on the warpath, tearing open the door with a frustrated jerk – her eyes scanning the shelves with a demanding intensity as she searched for salvation.
There was none.
Cursing angrily, the biker slammed the door shut. Well that was just perfect – she had no way of financing her accepted place at Kyoto Uni, and she had no mayo to comfort her. No 'Ruru either, unless she put her brain in gear and actually thought of a plan. What could she do? She couldn't mooch off of her girl, her pride and need to prove herself wouldn't allow that, even though she knew that the brunette would be more than willing to provide. A job? What kinda job would she be able to cope with, when she considered the workload the University would be placing on her? What job would pay enough?
Sighing in annoyance, the emerald eyed girl drew a blank...until her eyes caught sight of a leaflet that Nao had left on the kitchen counter – for information, not employment...yet...
The leaflet was about something in Fuuka, but Natsuki knew every city had at least one – knew there'd be something nearly identical in Kyoto if she looked.
But could she do that?
Looking down at herself critically, Natsuki wondered if she had the ability to perform a job like that, if she'd be able to handle it...if they'd even want to employ her. She didn't think she was the typical candidate they'd consider...but if it'd pay...
She had to try.
-6 Months Later-
Natsuki stretched out contentedly on the sofa, her head resting comfortably on the lap of a certain brunette. Her eyes were closed, and she dozed peacefully as soothing fingers worked through her long midnight locks. A perfect way to pass an evening...relaxing with her 'Ruru, not a care in the world – all assignments complete, all chores finished, nothing to do but lay back and...
Hear her phone start ringing.
Simultaneously, they both groaned. The tune playing was easily recognisable as it blared from Natsuki's mobile, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The consequences of moving were blindingly obvious, they both knew it and wished they could avoid it...and both knew they couldn't.
With a huff the blunette sat up, groping on the table for the infernal communication contraption, picking it up with an apologetically resigned look directed at her lover.
"Yeah?" she half snarled into the phone, trying and failing to rein in her annoyance, "Again? But oyabun, at such late notice? I couldn't possib...if I don't you'll what?...But I need this job!...I see...no, I understand, of course...yes, I'll be there as soon as possible...Within half an hour?...okay, yes oyabun, I'll be there, I promise...bye"
The conversation was short, but the shifting tone of Natsuki's voice – from annoyed to almost subservient – was unmistakably clear. It wasn't just shown in her voice, but also in the way her whole posture seemed to deflate, and her eyes dimmed. She tried to hide it, but it was unmissable to someone who knew her well...such as Shizuru.
"Ara, is my Natsuki's boss being demanding?"
A soft voice, and simple words...yet edged in a unmistakable ice.
"One of the girls called in sick...I'm the only one suitable to replace her apparently."
Soothing, attempting to be placating, and failing.
"So they need my Natsuki, and yet speak to her in such a manner that she deflates? I have a mind to have words."
Protective, defensive, wanting to save.
"Have many words 'Ruru, but not with oyabun – it's not worth it."
Persuasive, cajoling, needing to ease.
"Have you not seen yourself? I know Nat-chan is only a night nursing assistant, but he has no righ-"
Frustrated, angry – and cut off to sulky.
"It's fine!...It's fine Ruru...I'm used to it, and it's not worth it...I'm gonna be late if I don't get a move on."
Tense, final, leaving no room for argument until another time, another night, another demanding phone call.
They exchanged a brief kiss, a quick hug – the relaxed atmosphere gone and replaced by unease and frustration – and then Natsuki was out of the door, closing it behind her with a bang.
The brunette ex-kaichou waited to hear the roar of the rebel's bike starting up before she stood - with all her natural airs and graces – and calmly walked to the kitchen. Filling the kettle and preparing a cup, the tea addict dipped her dainty fingers into her tea jar and pulled out two things: a tea bag, and a tracking device. It wasn't a lack of trust per say...only her precious pup had never been specific as to the hospital where she worked...and in the case of an emergency how else would Shizuru find her? It was all perfectly justifiable.
As the water slowly boiled, the crimson-eyed woman flicked a switch that caused the device to hum to life. On the underside of Natsuki's bike, there would be a small red light flashing...but it was well hidden, and Shizuru was sure it'd go unnoticed. Her eyes flicked over the locations scrolling over the screen, her lips forming a small pout as she poured the water that was by then beginning to steam. Just time for a quick cup of tea while the tracker locked onto Natsuki, and then she'd be taking a leisurely car ride to the hospital – and then she'd be having words...many words.
-30 Minutes Later-
Shizuru brought her car to a gradual halt outside the building that was apparently housing her sweet puppy...and frowned. Her eyes were doubtful as she looked at the tracker, trying to make sure there was no way she could be mistaken...praying she was mistaken. Surely there was a mistake of some sort? Her Nat-chan worked at a hospital...not at a seedy place with a name like "Nishi Yorokobi"...surely...
The machine bleeped, undeceived and undeceiving.
Pale fingers curled and uncurled around the steering wheel, tightening and loosening with each deep inhale and exhale Shizuru allowed herself. Slow, calming breaths, struggling to maintain her composure, trying to decide what to do without putting her fist through something. She could go home, try and forget the sordid looking place she was seeing, pretend she didn't know, or even suspect...but that wouldn't work. Natsuki knew her too well, would figure something out, which would lead to the second option, a confrontation – possibly a very loud, angry one, where things would be said that shouldn't, and things might be done that couldn't be taken back...no, definitely not a good option...so what...
The ex-kaichou's head rested heavily against the top of the wheel, her mind a whirl of possibilities and maybes and might haves, unable to raise herself from under the crushing weight of betrayal that was overwhelming her. Even if Natsuki's work didn't involve 'that', it was a fact that she'd been lying for months – and that was destroying. That after all they'd been through, Natsuki was able to lie so easily...it hurt more than Shizuru would've thought possible, and as much as she tried to fight it, her crimson eyes misted over with tears she was trying desperately to keep from falling.
If she started to properly cry...she feared she wouldn't be able to stop.
Forcing herself to breathe normally, she couldn't keep herself from trembling still, feeling the strain from the immense effort it was taking to control herself.
She wasn't just betrayed...wasn't just anguished...she was seething. Furious beyond belief. She simply couldn't believe what was right in front of her, wouldn't believe it! The anger seeped through her veins, soothing her shakes until she was perfectly still. Perfectly decided.
With her old mask firmly in place on her face, she opened the car door with a deliberate leisure, stepping out of it with the air of a woman ready to kill anyone foolish enough to get in her way. Her steps were elegant and paced, unhurried as she made her way towards the entrance and the doorman who was guarding it. Her eyes, as cold as glittering rubies, locked with his casually as she approached, and when she spoke, her voice was nothing less than perfectly polite.
"Excuse me...it's my first time coming here, how does it all...work?" she questioned, needing to understand what she was about to see, pausing in just the right places to give an appearance of nervousness, and of course the doorman was taken in...who wouldn't be? The ex-kaichou had been practising being someone else throughout her entire school life; it wasn't that hard to put the disguise into place again.
"Ya pick yaself a room, all themed like, and then ya goes ta watch tha show. There's seats in there fo' ya if ya can find one free, or ya can stand closer if ya want, if there's space – but don't be doing no touching, 'cept unless ya be the generous type, 'cause then that's diff'rent see, 'n' then ya can get nice and close like to add some notes in nice 'n' tight – but don't be gropin' any, tha girlies don't be likin' that," grunted the burly man, cracking his knuckles in a wordless warning. Shizuru glanced at his fists briefly, as she should, and then nodded carefully – looking down with an appearance of bashfulness.
"Ara...would there be any...nurses?"
"Yeah, tha be a nurse t'night. She's a bit pricey, but I gi' ya ma ga-run-tee, she's worth it. Gunna be fair packed already tho' – rather see a nun?"
"No, thank you, the nurse please."
"Tha'll be thirteen thousand, n five hundred yen," was the demand, and Shizuru handed over the money without a moment of hesitation. If that was the price of knowing the truth...
"Ookini," she murmured demurely, walking in past the doorman, following his directions to the letter until she arrived in the designated 'lounge'. Dimly lit, it consisted mainly of a raised circular stage in the centre of the room with a pole extending up to the ceiling, with a catwalk leading from the stage to a curtained exit. About three feet away from the stage the chairs started – raised and tiered so everyone could see, and most were already full of sweaty men, and the odd woman, waiting with poor hid 'anticipation'. The space between the chairs and the stage was also jammed with eager people. There was a low hum of excited muttering, and it made Shizuru's flesh crawl to brush against such people as she forced herself closer towards the circular platform, reaching its edge just as music began to thud from wall speakers – something Western but the tea addict didn't recognise it apart from that.
Her eyes were fixed on the curtains at the end of the catwalk, waiting with baited to breath to find out the truth...
And there it was.
Natsuki, billed trashily as Nurse Naughty, strutting out onto the catwalk, footsteps timed perfectly with the music in a outfit that sent a hot rush straight between Shizuru's legs. A white nurse hat perched atop flowing midnight tresses. A white latex...dress? Shizuru wasn't sure of the exact word for it, but she could see how it zipped in the front, stopping low enough to reveal a tease of red lacy cleavage, the bottom of the dress stopping mid-thigh though not revealing as much as the brunette suddenly wanted to see, the soft creamy flesh hidden under white fishnet stockings that ended in white stilettos...when did Natsuki learn to walk like that in heels...no, just when did Natsuki learn to walk like that full stop?
Her strut was like a walking come on, hips moving to deliver open invitation to stare, and drool, and desire. Even the way her arms swayed at her sides, the way her head slightly tilted this way and that, all of it worked together to get the crowd panted like a pack of dogs in heat – and the show had barely started. It seemed impossible that a walk could have so much effect, could hold so much appeal...yet Natsuki managed it.
Less puppy, more wolf.
Red eyes were wide, elegant jaw was slacked, and lady-like thighs firmly squeezed together. The urge to leap onto the stage was becoming more and more tempting, and so much harder to resist. Jealousy was roaring like a ferocious beast through every fibre of Shizuru's being, and she still felt intensely betrayed...but she couldn't be angry...instead she was now fighting down the desire to take her blunette and ravage her senseless right there on that stage, to claim her publicly, to show that however much Natsuki might be a bad girlfriend...she was Shizuru's bad girlfriend, and would be going home with the brunette and only with her.
But not yet, was the sudden decision, made in an instant as Shizuru backed away just slightly so she'd be hidden by the crowd. She wouldn't take Natsuki away just yet...she wanted to see if the rest of the biker's show was as good as her walking.
Almost as soon as the decision had been made, Natsuki reached her pole, and the music changed – still thudding yet slightly slower...it had a steady throbbing pulse that was maddening to feel, especially when combined with delectable distraction that 'Nurse Naughty' was providing.
She wasn't actually dancing on the pole, not yet, instead she was circling slowly, feet moving with each beat of the music. Her hands no longer swung at her sides, instead they had begun to caress over her hips, up to her stomach, over her sides...her eyes seemed fixated on the pole as though it were a lover, and her hands were apparently moving in response, in anticipation – purposely avoiding going too low, fingers only brushing at edges when they got higher. It was maddening, her hands were the hands of the crowd, and the crowd wanted more, needed more – yet she refused, teased, baited, worked their imaginations with tantalising hints that wouldn't go further.
Gradually getting closer to her goal, reaching out to touch the cold steel, a hand closing around the pole, pulling her into it – only then did she give them more.
Throwing her head back so her hat would drop to the floor, Natsuki closed her eyes and shook out her hair as she began the main performance, inhaling the stale air and wishing she were somewhere else, doing this for someone else. As she gyrated and ground, swung and slipped, she imagined she was where she wanted to be, pressing closer than perhaps she should've, feeling more as she danced than was strictly professional. In her mind this was a prelude to something far better, and as her hand reached for her zip she pretended only one person would see, pulling it down slowly to reveal a red bra made of a lace that only hid the necessary, stopping before she exposed her stomach, lightly fondling as she moved around and against her metallic partner, dragging it out until the crowd was begging for more, pleading for more, groaning and panting under the music and making Natsuki feel somewhere between sick and sexy.
Waiting just a moment longer, waiting for the feeling to peak and her mind to withdraw, she took the instant to fight down nausea and instead focus on raw power she held over them – and the ego trip that could give her. Clinging onto that rush, she gave them what only she could.
The dress fell away from her easily, and she could almost feel the air shift from all the simultaneously inhales.
She could sense their eyes all over her; taking in her smooth skin, so soft looking that it begged to be stroked, admiring and desiring her tight stomach and womanly hips, watching the way her breasts bounced more now as she moved; and then daring to look lower, moans that had been withheld escaping as they noticed tight dark curls beneath flimsy criss-crossing lace threads, threads that almost seemed to glisten in the lights, as though moist...
Turning from them, she dropped suddenly before rising slowly, bent over so it was impossible to do anything but stare at her delectable derrière. As she reached a straight posture, she gave a cheeky wriggle and then decided it was time to earn her 'tips'.
Moving to the edge of the platform with the same strut that had messed many a man earlier, she felt sweaty palms against her skin, grabbing and gripping as she caressed herself in front of them, her thong and their faces on level terms. Struggling to keep the disgust from her face, she once again had to focus on the boost to her ego as crumpled notes found their way between her flesh and her string. They wanted her, so badly they'd pay just to watch, were willing to give her more as long as they got to paw while they paid – only if she allowed – she had the power to please and tease, and she used it.
Working her way around the edge of the stage, she'd manage to gather a skirt of notes by the time she'd made one full circuit, and that was enough for her. She could hear the medley that accompanied her show heading towards its finale, and so as she returned to her pole, her hands reached behind her back, willing to give them that little extra, preparing...and then she saw.
Her hands froze as her hips moved, and emerald met ruby. Natsuki couldn't read exactly what she saw in Shizuru's eyes, but she recognised the fact she was in trouble – though good or bad she couldn't quite decipher. Her fingers trailed down, away from their original target, and she turned away from the disappointed groans to saunter back down the aisle to her dressing room – very much aware that she couldn't take long.
Now Shizuru knew that Natsuki knew she knew, she would leave quickly - and Natsuki wasn't foolish enough to think she'd be able to get in the house if she didn't reach it first.
The race was on.
The second she was out of public sight she gathered the notes from her string, hurriedly bunching them into a wad, folding them and shoving them down the front of her bra as she grabbed her biking leathers from the back of a chair. Normally, on nights like that one where she only had to cover one show, she would've gotten dressed properly and changed her shoes, taken her time – but tonight she didn't have that luxury. Instead she had to quickly slide into the outfit, jamming her legs into the bottoms one at a time as she hopped and stumbled towards the exit, her arms following suit just as she reached her bike.
She didn't bother zipping the leathers up, nor did she lift her seat to grab her helmet; they were unnecessary actions that would've wasted precious seconds. Instead she swiftly straddled her salvation and thrust the keys in the ignition, twisting them and then the throttle roughly and taking off with the first rev of the engine.
Instantly she felt the air hitting her exposed skin like an icy slap as she rushed through it, and she winced. Even leaning down against the thrumming body of her bike, she could still feel the stinging chill of the wind, making her eyes water and her fingers burn. It wasn't good, and she knew it, but she also knew that it'd be worth it if she could cope with the pain of the speeds she was going to need.
Gritting her teeth, she opened the throttle wider.
Beneath her the engine roared, almost loud enough to drown out the blare of horns as she shot out of the alley and onto the main road.
Wheels moving too fast, she couldn't turn quick enough, couldn't lean far enough, roaring onto the wrong side of the road.
Eyes squinting, body turned to the right side, trying to drag the bike with her, trying to stop the drift.
Metal screaming past her, rubber burning under her, hands getting clammy as she clung.
And there! Going through the traffic lights – that shimmering pearlescent sheen – Shizuru's car was visible – Natsuki could overtake in minutes!
Risking using the handlebars, Natsuki turned them sharply, clinging as the bike shot onto the right side of the road and nearly into the side of a truck.
Despite the freezing cold, the biker was sweating, struggling, panting as the bike finally levelled. All the swerving and near-misses, they'd slowed her, Shizuru would be even further ahead now, closer to their home, closer to locking Natsuki out for good!
She couldn't let that happen!
Pressing herself down against the hot vibrating metal, the blunette urged the beast between her legs to move faster, filtering through the traffic at breakneck pace, through gaps that were barely there, reaching the traffic lights in mere minutes, firing through the amber light with eyes set in determination.
Ahead she could make out Shizuru's shining spoiler, slowed by other cars, unable to get past them in the same way as the rebel who was steadily closing the gap.
Closer, closer...
Passed!
Tail light dancing she pulled away, slipping ahead with the same reckless abandon that had got her there, reaching their apartment with a good five minutes to panic with.
Not even bothering to kick down the bike's stand, she left it laying on its side as she ran for their door, fumbling with the keys in the lock before kicking the door in, leaving it swinging as she dashed inside.
It took the passing of a tense ten minutes before its motions were stopped and it was shoved back into its frame, firmly lodging shut behind the barely calm ex-kaichou. The door, its lock now shattered, was bad enough to come home to – the chaos she was now surveying was horrendous. All the furniture was knocked out of position – the coffee table unfortunate enough to have been knocked over completely – and carefully stacked piles of paper were strewn across the room. Shards of pottery littered the ground along with fallen books and bottles and game cases. It was as though a force of nature had ripped through the room and spared nothing.
Or rather, a force of Natsuki.
Closing her eyes and counting silently to ten, Shizuru forced herself to breathe deeply before she allowed herself to carefully pick her way through the rubble towards their kitchen.
She wished she hadn't.
Stopping in the doorway, she could see it was just as bad as the living-room, if not worse. All the low cupboards had been thrown open, and their contents littered the ground – saucepans, frying-pans, woks, lids, bowls – everything! Nothing seemed broken, but more was scattered – the disarray seemed more deliberate somehow. The mess in the lounge seemed careless, bumping into things, but this...
Taking a step back, the brunette narrowed her eyes. Her darling biker girlfriend had a lot of explaining to do...when Shizuru found her.
Clearly the blunette wasn't in the kitchen – a glance showed the cupboards were empty, and too small to hide her anyway – and so she turned back to the original disorder.
"Nat-su-ki, come out~" drawled the Kyoto belle, her voice all sugar and honey and knives as she walked around, lightly kicking debris out of her path, her movements making the only replying sounds. Slowly she made her way about the room, checking behind everything large enough for Natsuki to crouch behind, but to no avail. Natsuki was not behind the sofa, nor between shelving units, nor under any table or anywhere else in the room.
"Nat-su-ki~" she called again, nudging open the bathroom door as she came to it. There was no resistance, no lock slid into place, and as she made her way in everything seemed surprisingly to be in order. The window was closed, the shower curtain open, and though she looked in the tub anyway, the ex-kaichou wasn't shocked when it was empty.
Which left the bedroom.
Cursing under her breath, Shizuru hoped that it was more like the bathroom than the kitchen, or else she would have another reason to not be responsible for her actions.
With only a moments hesitation she headed to the final room of the flat, eyes closed for the few seconds it took to walk in and close the door behind her – opening them carefully one at a time while bracing herself for the worst...which didn't come. Staring with something between relief and confusion, she saw everything was as she had left it. The window was closed in this room too, and not a thing was out of place – and there wasn't a sign of Natsuki...unless...but no...surely not? Surely the resident badass wouldn't cower that low?
One way to find out.
Getting down on her hands and knees, Shizuru carefully lifted the excess fabric that hid the underside of their bed, and was met with the sight of her cowering girlfriend curled up with her hands over her head – so focused on being still herself that she hadn't noticed the movement to her side.
"Natsuki?"
Away came the hands and up came the head – sharply – and wide emerald eyes met surprised rubies.
The contact lasted barely a second before the startled Kuga started to scramble frantically, rolling out from under the bed and starting to struggle with the window – actually managing to get it partway open before Shizuru leapt onto the bed and then dove upon her escaping lover, knocking her to the ground and landing on top of her - quickly grabbing her wrists and entwining their legs to keep her pinned firmly on the floor. Natsuki began struggling immediately, twisting her hips and bucking beneath Shizuru in an attempt to knock her off balance.
It had a rather different effect.
Rather than being unseated, Shizuru pressed down more firmly, her leg pushing harder between Natsuki's as she ground against the blunette's thigh – every struggling movement forcing them closer. Natsuki let out an almost whimper, her eyes becoming heavy-lidded as she continued to writhe and arch, and Shizuru bit back a moan. Natsuki trying to escape was always hot...but no...she was supposed to be angry...angry why? Kami, it was so hard to think with Natsuki grinding...grinding!
Suddenly she remembered the strip club, and the biker's dangerous riding, and the mess! Natsuki had been naughty!
Leaning down swiftly, the brunette bit her lover's neck, eliciting a cry from the biker, and more desperate struggling, tossing her head from side to side, ruining Shizuru's panties as she did it. With a hiss of frustration Shizuru bit again, harder, and was rewarded with Natsuki becoming still with a groan, head tilted away in fear and shame.
"My Natsuki should look at me," an order, unmistakably, and the blunette was helpless to disobey, turning to look up at Shizuru with trembling lips. The ex-kaichou shifted so she was pinning both of Natsuki's wrists with one hand, and with the other she gripped the blunette's chin, forcing her to keep still and maintain eye contact as Shizuru spoke again - "How dare my Natsuki run from me? How dare my Natsuki run and lie and destroy our home? How could you?" - her voice raising in volume and pitch until she was shouting, her cheeks flushed with her anger that only grew as she felt Natsuki try to look away, her voice trembling with emotion - "I said look at me!" - while her head moved to stay in view of Natsuki's darting eyes, forcing her to maintain eye contact as Shizuru continued to shout.
"After the carnival, no, after everything, how can Natsuki lie so easily to me? After I waited so long, how can Natsuki flaunt herself so freely to others? I waited for you! How could you Natsuki? You're mine!"
Shizuru finished harshly, and when Natsuki opened her mouth to speak she found herself silenced - her mouth covered and invaded as Shizuru descended forcefully, crashing their lips together so hard their teeth knocked before Shizuru's tongue invaded, forcing Natsuki to comply and respond.
It was messy, clumsy, and oh so angry. No control, no skill, just a desperate meeting of mouths, Natsuki unable to answer and Shizuru unwilling to let her. Compensation without explanation. Demanding. Tongues fighting for space, then pulling back, a biting of a bottom lip, and back together again – almost painful, and incredibly intense. Possessive. Hands forgetting restraint, tangling in hair, and those freed grabbing shoulder and waist, wrapping around and coming closer.
Willing, wanting, needing.
Words, clumsy words, say so much less than clumsy fingers.
