A/N: This utterly gratuitous oneshot, inspired in its entirety by the song Good For You by Selena Gomez, is a part of my Starry Eyed series. If you squint, the plot of this oneshot follows the progression of that song quite closely. I wouldn't say this installment is important to the overall plot of Starry Eyed at all, so for those of you who don't even know what that is I think you should be fine. It just explains why Sapphire and Ruby are in Taiwan, of all places.
With this oneshot I tried to convey sensuality and sexual tension without actually having a sex scene. I also wanted to force myself to focus on more atmospheric details, instead of simply dialogue. I'm not sure how that worked out, though, so I'd love to hear any feedback if you have it.
Also, if anyone is curious, TABOO a is a real place. Here's a link to their website (just take out spaces): www [PERIOD] taboo [DOTCOM] .tw/
As liberal and hipster as the city of Taipei is, same-sex marriage is still not legal in Taiwan as a country. Ruby hears there's some legislation in the works that will change that soon, and she's certainly aware of the protests that have been on the local news ever since America legalized it, but so far the queer-friendly club TABOO remains aptly named.
She says queer friendly, but what she really means is that TABOO is the most popular lesbian dance club in the zipcode. She's honestly never seen so many butch/femme pairings in her life. There are a handful of exceptions, of course, but those are very much in the minority.
You'd think being around folks who are of like-mind would be more comforting. Ruby has to say, as of right now it really isn't.
"I feel like I should have worn my flannel," Ruby mutters as she and Sapphire enter the thick air filled with body heat and perfume. There's either a mister or smoke machine giving the erratic lasers something to reflect off of. The music—a hypnotic, electric rhythm—is loud enough to make Ruby's very bones vibrate along with the smooth, polished tile under her feet.
Why, yes, she realizes as she squints at the club's name, elaborate butterfly logo, and tagline Lady Emperor. Feel my heart beat that seem to be shimmering along the wall catty corner to the DJ. Yes, there is a waterfall feature in TABOO. There are also platforms and stripper poles for patrons to use right along with the actual dancing staff.
This place isn't even a little like BC's Club back in the states.
You'd think that a setting like this would be more welcoming of the woman with the broad shoulders, square hips and swishy halter dress from back when she and Sapphire were taking salsa classes together (back before they discovered astronomy, of course). But let Ruby tell you, she sticks out like a sore thumb. She's butch, but even she likes the sensation of rayon swaying freely about her knees once every couple of years. At least she and Sapphire are of comparable heights with most of the local partygoers; standing head and shoulders above the largely Taiwanese crowd would have only made it worse.
It's too loud for Sapphire to speak, but her gentle smile and crinkled blue eyes say enough. She touches Ruby's bared shoulder blade and tilts her blonde head towards the bar. It's surrounded by a veritable battalion of jostling customers, which seems odd because it's a freaking Wednesday, but it's ladies night (yeah, at the lesbian club, go figure), and their cover fee included two drinks each. Might as well take advantage of it.
They've been in Taiwan about ten months now, and at this point Ruby has a passable working knowledge of the dialect of Chinese spoken here (though she can't read the written language to save her skin). Sapphire's much better at understanding what someone's saying in crowded rooms, though, so she's the one who wriggles her way through the throng at the bar to order their drinks. She doesn't ask what Ruby wants, but that's because she already knows it will be beer—and, failing that, whisky and coke will do just fine. It's hard to say which one she'll order tonight. On one hand, it's crowded as shit and cocktails take a lot of time. Sapphire used to be a bartender, so she is particularly sensitive to the stress that can be placed on the staff behind the bar when you order complex drinks. On the other hand, though, this is a special occasion, and the drinks are already paid for…
Ruby shuffles off to the side, hopefully within easy sight. Losing each other in this place would be terrible (though, to be fair, they're some of the darkest individuals here, so maybe losing each other would be harder than it sounds).
Realistically, Sapphire is probably going to be a while. Ruby knows this, but she can't help shifting her weight from foot to foot with impatience. She's wearing flats, so her feet don't hurt, and the wordless music is catchy. She keeps bumping her knee to its beat. It gives her something more to focus on than her own boredom.
So does people watching. Ruby is good at it, though she doesn't typically do it in a passive manner like this. Of course, there's nothing to be on the lookout for tonight—not really. Here in Taiwan belligerent inebriation is frowned upon, and the people are nice almost to a fault. If push came to shove, though, Ruby thinks she could take any of these partygoers in a fight. She's just made of brawnier stuff than most of the people here. The assessment gives her a kind of confidence in her own musculature that doesn't quite translate to the way she currently feels in this dress.
All of which is to say, the lack of habitual defensiveness is throwing Ruby for a loop. That's probably why she's so slow to recognize that all of the glances she had been squirming about earlier weren't really for her, but for Sapphire. 'Admiring' is a gentle term for it.
Well, Ruby thinks, straightening her shoulders in pride, and why wouldn't they? These women (and the occasional man) obviously have eyes in their heads, and good taste to boot. Small surprise that Sapphire's skintight tube dress is catching so much attention. Ruby's mouth had frankly gone dry to see the blonde woman modeling it for the first time. The sparkly eyeshadow that peeks out from the right sweep of her bangs (conveniently obscuring her glass eye) isn't overt or obnoxious, but rather mesmerizing. Even the high arch of her long pony tail and the way it exposes the small tattoo of her favorite constellation on the back of her neck is attractive, and Ruby has no real way of explaining that even to herself. Amethyst had asked if she could give them tattoos before they left the states, and they had both taken her up on the offer; Ruby has an equally small piece encircling the bicep on her left arm; it's not like the tattoo is a sexual thing.
Nevertheless, all of this is true. Sapphire looks good tonight, even better than usual, and Ruby honestly can't hold it against anyone else who's noticed.
Ruby doesn't expect to be approached. She's not typically the approachable type, all truth told. She doesn't have resting bitch face, per se, but she doesn't exactly exude friendly vibes.
This apparently is not enough to dissuade a petite Taiwanese woman with mid-length, straight dark hair and a short-hemmed, ruffled dress from marching right up to her. Her makeup is done in bold shades of sunset, all oranges and yellows, but that doesn't actually look bad on her.
"You aren't drinking," she says just loud enough to be heard over the DJ. She speaks English, and while she has an accent it is a fake one. She motions to Ruby's empty hands with the mixed drink in her own. It's pink and orange—maybe a tequila sunrise?
Ruby supposes it makes sense for people to look at her brown skin and afro and assume she doesn't know Chinese. Until she started living here, that would have been an entirely accurate assumption. She sort of appreciates how they don't automatically assume she's American, however, even if her accent when she replies in either language promptly shatters the illusion of her being British. It's not that she's ashamed to be from the states—okay, maybe she is a little; if these last ten months have taught her anything, it's that Americans don't exactly have the greatest of reputations overseas.
Honestly, Ruby is a little surprised that anyone has tried to talk to her at all, much less this itty bitty woman in pleated skirts. She blinks, and then remembers herself. "Oh. My drink is coming." She hopes she's shouting loud enough. Just in case, though, she points to Sapphire, who is still at the bar.
At first the woman reacts with surprise (it's the unexpected accent, probably). Her gaze briefly flicks to where Ruby's pointing. She takes a ruminative sip of her tequila sunrise. Then she makes a pointed gesture to the amoeba of writhing bodies out on the dance floor. One of the partiers has taken over a stripper pole, and she's actually quite good at it. It's too loud to try and continue a conversation, but the implications of the offer are not ambiguous.
Huh, Ruby thinks. Maybe it hadn't all been incredulity at her and admiration of Sapphire after all. Kind of flattering, if you think about it.
She tries to make herself appear friendly and polite as she shakes her head no. Once more, she gestures to Sapphire. 'I've got a dance partner already; thanks, but no thanks.'
The woman gives her this look. Not even while you wait?
Ruby doesn't think she's ever met anyone quite so forward. She's probably drunk, even though she isn't swaying and flushed.
Ruby shakes her head again, and the woman gives her another look—your loss—before sashaying away. Ruby supposes this is about the only way to make your intentions known when everything is so loud you can't even think, but she still can't help feeling somewhat stunned by the whole interaction.
Fortunately, that's also around the time that Sapphire returns with their drinks. Looks like Ruby's doing whisky and coke tonight. It isn't until Ruby accepts the cocktail and takes a sip—it's heavy handed; she appreciates that—that she notices Sapphire's teasing little smirk.
Ruby rolls her eyes, torn between amusement and exasperation. She should have guessed that Sapphire saw. She notices everything, despite any and all environmental obstacles, like noise and poor lighting.
The taller woman is still smirking as she leans in close. Ruby feels her partner's lips brush against her earlobe, and the vibrations of her voice, but it's too low for her to actually hear the words. If her expression as she leans back is indicative of anything, then it was probably at least a little raunchy. Her good left eye is sparkling with mischief.
Ruby grins. Suddenly, she's not so self-conscious anymore. It's hard to be when your worldview narrows to the one person you trust more than yourself.
Sapphire's drink is colorless—maybe a vodka and tonic water, or gin if she's feeling like a change of pace—but she sets the bar high when she sucks it all down in less than a minute's time. She's giving Ruby a potently daring look as she does it, clearly asking, "Can you keep up?"
For the record, it actually wasn't Sapphire's idea to come here. The fact that she's taken the concept and started running with it is pretty great, though. It's been a while since they've done anything that wasn't domestic and casual, which is why Ruby suggested clubbing to begin with.
It seems that Sapphire fully agrees with her on this.
Never one to back down from a challenge, Ruby looks her partner right in the eye and knocks her drink back. The whisky burns warm down her throat, and the carbonation from the soda stings her nostrils, but she used to be an old hand at drinking. There is a fire coiling in her gut. She isn't tipsy yet, but she knows it's coming and to be honest she is pretty excited about it. Getting wasted isn't the goal, but having enough of a buzz that all of their inhibitions disappear for a little while is fun to do sometimes. It brings out sides of you that you don't typically get to show, and Ruby is always interested to interact with new sides of Sapphire. She wants to know them all intimately.
If they're going to do this, might as well do it right.
Ruby takes Sapphire's hand and hauls her back to the bar. They have one drink left each, and if mildly intoxicated is what they're going for then they might as well make the most of them.
They time it just right, apparently, and the wait for two shots of whisky isn't near as long as the wait for the mixed drinks. Ruby smiles as she wordlessly clinks her glass with Sapphire's. They drink and head out to the dance floor in tandem. The music is really starting to sound brilliant, its throbbing bass and scratching melodies impossible not to move for. The lights that flash and sparkle and disappear create a near-otherworldly atmosphere of technology and abstractedness. The easy way that the rayon of Ruby's dress sways around her thighs is now as nice and fun as it had been back at the apartment when she offered a smarmy grin and a twirl to make Sapphire smile.
Sapphire is all curves and gentle angles, from her cheekbones to the way her dress outlines the fantastic coke bottle of her figure. She's wearing pumps, so when they gravitate close their bodies don't fit together the same. The swell of Sapphire's breasts brushes against Ruby's collarbone, and her hands settle higher up Ruby's ribcage than they usually do. It still feels like she knows exactly how to syncopate her skin to the beat of Ruby's heart, like it's an instinct she couldn't turn off if she tried. Her heels make the muscles in her legs and lower back firm under Ruby's fingers, but her lips are as full and plush as ever. Her knee somehow finds its way between Ruby's thighs, but it only ever acts as an axis upon which to shuffle closer to one another. All Ruby can smell is whisky and Sapphire's perfume.
Are there other people here? Ruby faintly registers the movement of other bodies around them—that it's actually quite crowded here in Taipei's hottest lesbian club—but her world has narrowed to a single blue eye and the sweet scent of Sapphire. The firm way the blonde woman's fingers splay over her ass and tug her in until their torsos are pressed flush is nothing short of electric. Ruby has to tilts her head up so that her lips can graze over the other woman's chin. When Sapphire moves so they can kiss, though, Ruby shifts away. Kissing would ruin the sensuality of this moment.
Something flashes in Sapphire's good left eye, but she doesn't complain.
The music has changed. It's not wordless electronica anymore, but rather low and sultry—and is that and English speaking singer? Really?
I just want to look good for you, good for you, oh
You know what? She can roll with this. The beat is slow, but it feels right.
They slow down. It's an unconscious decision, honestly. Everything zeros in to how they breathe together, to the heat of Sapphire's skin through the thin satin of her dress. Her slow rolling crests and valleys move into Ruby's palms as they pass over, consenting, asking for more. When Ruby holds onto her hips and guides her to sway just so, Sapphire's lips ghost breathily from the corner of her eye down to her jaw. Ruby can feel her heartbeat from here; it's not quite in time with the song or what she remembers of the DJ's mix, but rather something all her own. It's not predictable, though it's not precisely erratic either. Whatever the best word for it, it's intoxicating.
Ruby's breath catches when slender brown fingers sneak up the uneven drapes of her dress' hem. The rayon is slippery and pliable, and shifts to accommodate her easily. The tips of Sapphire's fingers are just the slightest bit chilly as they rove up the sides of Ruby's thighs. With the flashing lights and densely packed crowd around them, it's unlikely that anyone's noticed this, and at this point Ruby's well and truly buzzed, so that's all the reassurance she needs.
The slight upturn of Sapphire's lips as she feels Ruby's reaction is truly telling of her intentions. Ruby's pulse jumps and her gut clenches with excitement. She feels her skin raise as Sapphire breathes next to her ear and nudges the tips of her fingers inside her panties.
They still haven't stopped dancing that slow, purposeful rocking back and forth. It's all in the hips and how their bodies rub together. Ruby's skin is prickling, and her nerves are on fire. Her breath is hot on the blonde woman's throat, and she loves the way that Sapphire shivers from it.
She grasps her partner's lower back and pulls her in until she can feel Ruby's erect nipples through their respective clothing (the halter dress has pads, albeit not great ones; Ruby's not a huge fan of bras anyway, so she had happily opted out for this occasion). Sapphire melts when Ruby lightly nips under her jaw, close but not quite near enough to the ticklish skin of her neck. The way their bodies interact is substantially more intimate, somehow. Ruby thinks it's the way Sapphire leans into her. It's works, somehow, even with the pumps.
Sapphire reaches under Ruby's panties to squeeze her rear before retreating into relatively less explicit territory. She's slowly but surely hiking the sides of Ruby's salsa dress up her legs. Ruby's sure Sapphire can feel the heat of her excitement she's inspiring from the knee she still has bent between Ruby's legs. How she's managed to do this for so long with heels is not something Ruby is wholly equipped to understand right now, but she doesn't seem uncomfortable or tired. The way she's looking at Ruby, her cheeks flushed and pupil dilated—not to mention the slow way she is gyrating her hips into Ruby's pelvis—betrays only her tireless brand of lust that Ruby has come to appreciate and respect over their time together.
The slow song fades out, but the DJ is clever about picking up the tempo again. It's a slow progression, beats and rhythms building up on themselves, and Sapphire and Ruby follow its lead subconsciously. By the time the music is of a comparable quality to what it was when they first entered TABOO, Ruby scarcely notices it anymore. All she cares about is the feel of Sapphire's body moving with hers, so close but never quite close enough, and the heat and sweat that sticks them conveniently together.
They close out the club dancing. Ruby feels as though she's learned new things about Sapphire from this. It's not necessarily explicit facts that she can recite, but rather tiny details that click into place about her partner's preferences and personality—this new side of her is interesting and sexy and important, and Ruby is glad to know it.
By the end of the last song, they've long since worked all of the alcohol out of their systems. The comfort with their dancing remains firmly established, though. They're so lost in each other that no one could butt in if they tried.
Sapphire, who had been dancing with her back to Ruby, her ponytail draped over one shoulder and her ass rubbing against Ruby's pelvis, turns around for the last few moments of the last song of the night. How she knew the sound for what it was, Ruby can't even begin to guess, but it's true. She synchs Ruby close by the waist and finally gets that kiss she tried for a few hours ago. All of the teasing and anticipation makes the contact simultaneously skin raising and searing. Satisfying. Her lips open eagerly, and the way her tongue sweeps behind Ruby's teeth betrays a desire for something much deeper. She doesn't taste like alcohol at this point, instead it's just affection and want and Sapphire.
Ruby rubs her hands over the delectable swell of taller woman's hips and smile into her lips. She loves it when Sapphire is unleashed like this.
They don't break apart until an oppressively obvious silence starts ringing in their ears, and someone whoops at them in a suspiciously American manner. By this point Sapphire's fingers are tangled in Ruby's sweaty curls and Ruby has a firm grasp of her shapely behind over that skin tight dress. Sapphire's long hair is brushing against her wrists, but it only ever serves to make her more hyper aware. They're losing themselves in a totally new way.
Oops.
Normally being caught with such blatant levels of PDA would have been embarrassing—would have been at least enough to make her sheepish—but right now Ruby honestly doesn't give a shit. Take a good long look at this, TABOO; you know we're going home together.
The apples of Sapphire's cheeks are rosy when she takes a somewhat unsteady step back in her pumps, but she really doesn't look sorry either. There is promise for much more glittering in her good left eye. Somehow, she still looks so splendidly put together, despite her sweaty bangs and vaguely cockeyed dress. How does she even do that? Ruby's pretty sure she looks exactly like she's just made out with her girlfriend after a couple hours of grinding on a crowded dance floor: disheveled and a little tired, but mostly just turned on.
They don't talk until they're on their way to flagging down a taxi (the metro, which they took into this part of the city, has long since stopped running), but that's probably because their ears are still ringing. But then, as they're passing one of the many food carts smartly selling their wares to the clubbing crowd, Sapphire reaches for her hand. She threads their fingers together and smiles, and god, she's so fucking beautiful.
"You know, most people go out to dinner on their second anniversary," she remarks playfully.
Ruby casts her a sideways look. "Yeah, and some people give cotton," she says. "What's your point?"
Sapphire smiles a little bigger. "I think we do it better. Happy anniversary, baby."
Ruby squeezes her hand. "You act like the night is already over," she says, though she's only half-joking.
"Oh, I know it's not, but I'm still allowed to say it, aren't I?"
Ruby grins and abruptly slips her free hand around her partner's waist so she can pull her close. She doesn't care if the food cart venders see this. She doesn't care if the other partygoers see this. All she cares about—all she wants to know—is Sapphire, and for tonight that's all there is going to be to it.
Sapphire giggles when Ruby presses a short kiss to her lips, and Ruby feels warm and happy and lucky to be here. "Happy anniversary, Sapph. Let's do something unorthodox next year, too—but for now, let's just go home."
Sapphire laughs again, though the look in the blue of her eyes is enough to drive anyone crazy. "Yes, let's."