171 AG
Months after the first time, Opal and Kuvira kept dancing together. It wasn't something constant or consistent; they weren't practicing to perfect anything. Whenever Kuvira had a night off of guard duty and wasn't doing anything else Opal would pretend that she had a break from her own not actually busy schedule as well and they would hang out together and dance.
Opal took it more seriously than Kuvira, who probably saw it more like loosening up and stretching than anything else, but it wasn't just because Opal wanted to hang out with her. Opal still admired Kuvira and loved being around her but she was growing to like dancing itself. She'd never be great but she understood why Kuvira enjoyed it now.
Sometimes, Opal even danced without Kuvira. When she didn't have anything else to do some nights, or if her current book got too intense to read, she'd come down to the dance hall and find a room to practice in by herself. She didn't have a record player in her room and preferred practicing with a mirror.
One night Opal had felt like dancing so she walked over to the dance studio, listening to the rain pattering on the metal roof far above her head. It was after dinner and the domes had been closed; most citizens had already turned in for the night. There were few people in the streets so Opal enjoyed the solitude and the echoing drumming of rain.
When she finally approached her mother's dance studio she realized the doors were shut. Of course it would be closed, locked to Opal. The doors were too large and heavy to be opened by a person's physical strength; everyone else used bending to move them. Opal frowned, disappointment churning in her chest.
Many doors in Zaofu would only open to benders and everyone on her mother's dance troupe could metalbend. Looking closer, however, Opal realized the doors weren't completely closed after all. One side was slightly ajar and she squeezed her way through it. It was a lucky coincidence, but she'd probably have to mention it to someone.
Opal walked quietly through the huge dance room. It was quiet here, and she could hear the padding of her feet on the floor. Zaofu, for such a relatively small city, could seem so big at times it overwhelmed Opal. Zaofu was built for grandness; to be something to be so big and wonderful it made you feel small and glad to feel that way. Sometimes all Opal felt was lost. She wandered over to the rooms where Kuvira and she would practice dancing.
Unlike the main dance hall, which was cast mostly in darkness and the bright yellow lights from outside the building, there were lights in the back rooms in addition to the mirrors Opal used to watch herself dance in. She unlatched the heavy door on the far side of the hall and entered. She noticed the glaze of the dim light falling out of one of the rooms, reflected on the floor. Someone was here.
Somebody else using a practice room would explain why the front door was ajar and Opal didn't see a huge problem with it, relaxing slightly. She'd mentioned to Wing that she was going to the dance studio; it wasn't like she was sneaking out. Still, she didn't feel prepared to dance in front of strangers, so she resolved to find another room. Kuvira's room wasn't the only one with mirrors so Opal didn't mind.
She walked quietly passed the doors when she heard a thump and a pained hiss. Was someone hurt? She heard some heavy breathing coming from inside the room. Another grunt pierced the silence. Opal peered inside the room, but here was a metal divider that blocked her view of whoever was making those noises. Opal entered the room carefully and walked up towards the divider.
The heavy breathing was unnerving, and the sounds Opal was hearing were strange and unfamiliar, but if someone was in pain they'd need her help so she toughened up. She peered around the divider and what she saw made her mouth fall open. It was just Kuvira and her friend but what they were doing almost made Opal gasp loud enough to betray her position to them.
Kuvira was sitting on a bench on side of the room and her friend was kneeling on the floor, her hands gripping Kuvira's thighs securely. Kuvira's pants were pooled around her ankles and the other woman's face was in between her legs. Opal was confused for a moment, but then Kuvira moaned again, legs spreading apart wider and hand clutching the woman's short, black hair.
Kuvira was wearing the kind of clothes she wore at rehearsal, loose, white top and green pants. Her hair was in its usual braid but feathers of black were sticking out. She jerked her head to the side and bit back a whimper as the woman between her legs licked her once, slow and deep, and easily slid two fingers inside of her. The woman pressed closer and began sucking on Kuvira, moving her fingers in and out methodically.
Kuvira's fingers tangled in her friend's short hair and her head rolled back, mouth hanging open in a gasp. Kuvira seemed utterly lazy, stretched out across the bench, another woman between her legs. Opal clamped her hand on a gasp. They were - they were having sex! Kuvira and the other dancer! Opal instincts were to run and to hide, and they clashed - leaving her only able to stand behind the divider, mouth hanging open in shock, cheeks burning.
Even when she turned her face and hid she couldn't help but see Kuvira in the mirror on the wall parallel to her. Opal had never seen Kuvira like this, skin flushed on her face and chest, body somehow both taut and relaxed. Kuvira looked like she could barely keep herself still for this but like she wouldn't move for the world. Her mouth hung open, sweat trailing down her face as the short-haired woman licked her.
"How's that?" the other woman asked in a sweet voice. Opal heard her press long, wet kisses onto Kuvira. Kuvira made a low humming noise. Chills ran down Opal's spine. They would be so angry if they found out she was there but she couldn't trust herself to leave unnoticed at that moment.
"Yeah," Kuvira murmured in her deep voice. "That's good." Opal watched, open-mouthed, as a bead of sweat trailed down the slope of Kuvira's neck. She had to get out of here. Kuvira's hand snuck into her shirt, massaging her breast, and the woman moaned again. Her deep voice rumbling inside the compact room sounded like the thunder outside the domes.
Looking around, careful not to knock over anything, Opal began to back away, out of the room. She could only hope that Kuvira didn't see Opal's reflection anywhere but she knew the woman's eyes were shut tight in tense pleasure.
When she turned around and left she caught one last accidental glimpse of Kuvira in the mirror, knuckles white in her friend's hair as the woman pumped her fingers in and out of her, licking her like her life depended on it. Opal practically sprinted across the main room, and squeezed out of the door as fast as she could.
Her heart was pounding too fast and she felt light-headed; she sat down by the side of the building on the grass. The rain was hitting against the metal harder now, in tempo with her rapid heartbeat. She was throbbing in the same place the dancer had been kissing Kuvira. She put her face in her hands and felt the heat in her cheeks. She was blushing more brutally than she ever had in her life, feeling mortified and guilty. She couldn't have gotten away faster.
She also couldn't have guessed that that's what the noises had been, Kuvira and her friend, her girlfriend maybe, having sex. She thought she'd managed to get away without embarrassing them, but she couldn't help but feel embarrassed herself. She should have run away as soon as she'd heard the noises; she should've looked at anywhere but Kuvira and her reflections. Opal could do nothing more but sit in the grass until the throbbing between her legs dulled down.
When Opal went to bed that night she couldn't get the sound of Kuvira's moans out of her head. Kuvira's deep, throaty voice, echoing off the walls of a room identical to the one they usually practiced in. The way her chest rose in her white shirt, her sweat glistening in the dim lighting. Opal couldn't stop thinking about Kuvira's fingers curled in her friend's short, dark hair, tugging harder with each stroke of her tongue.