#nothing big

Rumi is watching the crowd around them, and even though her very noticeable hair is pulled back and hidden under a cap, she's in a pair of tiny shorts and a sleeveless blouse that leaves her patterns on full display. After a few weeks of cautious outings, it seems that regular people can't see the iridescent shine of the patterns, but they're still noticeable and unique enough to draw attention. Plus, Rumi is just effortlessly gorgeous. Mira's eyes are drawn to her mouth though, where Rumi is laving at the yellow plastic spoon she was supplied with.

Rumi isn't doing anything overtly sexual. She's just eating ice cream like a normal person, but watching is filling Mira's stomach with heat. She watches her suck on another spoonful and then dart her tongue out to get any ice cream she had missed. Mira swallows.

It's only when Rumi pauses when removing the spoon from her mouth that Mira looks up and catches her eyes.

Mira is staring and Rumi caught her. She doesn't look away. She's not embarrassed to be caught looking at her beautiful girlfriend, and if she looks away that would make her seem like she was. No, she has to make eye contact. (She can't let Rumi win.)

"Mira? You good?" Rumi asks, a smug tilt to her lips.

"Hmm? Yeah?"

Rumi nods, her expression doubtful. "Your ice cream is melting."

Mira looks down at her hand and sees that there are two light green tracks trailing down the back of her hand and over her wrist. "Ah shit." She scrambles for her napkins and wipes it up the best she can before cleaning up the sides of the cone with a few quick swipes of her tongue.

Rumi is giggling to herself the whole time. Mira scowls at her. Rumi just smiles sweetly. "Can I have a taste?"

"You hate matcha," Mira reminds her, suspiciously.

"I've never had it as ice cream before," Rumi argues. "I like ube ice cream even though I hate it in everything else." How very reasonable. Mira doesn't trust it. But she is a sucker for a pretty face, so she holds her cone out for Rumi to take.

Rumi doesn't take it though, she just holds Mira's wrist to keep it steady and makes eye contact while taking a delicate little kitten lick off the top. Slowly. Mira's gut clenches. She has to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from doing something embarrassing.

Rumi’s nose scrunches up cutely. “No, you were right. More for you.” She holds out her cup. “I saw you looking earlier,” she says with false innocence. “Did you want to try some of mine?” She pops another spoonful in her mouth and starts to make a little show of cleaning it off.

Mira knows they're probably being watched. There's rarely a time when they can go out in public and not be spotted by someone. She's careful to keep a respectful distance from Rumi when she leans forward and whispers close to her ear. "What I want is your tongue in my mouth."

Rumi coughs around her mouthful of ice cream and shoots a wide-eyed frantic glance up at Mira, her eyes lingering on Mira's mouth for a moment, before she looks around them to make sure no one else heard what Mira said.

Mira smiles, satisfied with the fluster she brought about.

Rumi blinks hard. "We need to get home," she announces. She turns and walks away at a much faster pace than before. Mira follows. She pretends not to notice when Rumi stops with a huff every so often to wait for Mira to catch up. Mira takes her time, enjoying her ice cream to the last bite and smirking with each irritated call of "Mira!" that Rumi can't contain. Now that Rumi is so eager Mira wants to maintain the teasing as long as possible.

She's started a fire though and as soon as the door of the elevator closes, Rumi is on her. Mira's back hits the wall of the elevator with a thump. She slips her tongue into Mira's willing mouth right away and it's just like Mira thought it would be. Cool, firm, and sweet. Rumi presses their tongues together and Mira moans in response. Her strong hands are gripping tight at Mira's hips, thumbs under her shirt already.

Mira sucks on Rumi's tongue as she pulls them flush together with two handfuls of Rumi's ass. She slips her knee between Rumi's legs. Rumi whines against her and rolls her hips against Mira's thigh.

They don't separate when the elevator dings and the doors slide open, Mira just steers them out and into the foyer. They stumble against the shoe rack and the small table at the door. Rumi trips over her own feet and they go down to the floor, still tangled together. Rumi's hands are under Mira's shirt, her nails raking down her back in firm scratches. Mira lands between Rumi's legs, their hips slot together perfectly and she grinds down on Rumi's center.

She finally releases Rumi's tongue and slides her mouth to her cheek, her temple, her ear. "You taste so good, baby."

Rumi whines and writhes under her. "Touch me, touch me, touch me," is all she says, rolling her hips up each time. Mira reaches down and holds Rumi's hips down with one hand. Rumi cries out in displeasure immediately.

Mira kisses her again, muffling her whines. She can still taste the sweet and spice of the ice cream when she licks at the roof of Rumi's mouth. Rumi bites down on Mira's tongue, not enough to wound but hard enough to get her attention. It can't be said that Mira doesn't take direction.

Without being able to look, Mira fumbles between Rumi's legs with the inseam of her shorts. They're tiny, barely long enough to cover the curve of Rumi's ass. She's easily able to push the cloth aside and feel Rumi's warmth through what feels like satin underwear. She wishes she could see them. Rumi jerks against her fingers and whines into her mouth. "Yes, please," she begs prettily. Mira pulls back just enough to see Rumi's eyes, pupils blown wide and one eye glinting the barest gold.

Mira pushes the fabric aside and her fingers are soaked immediately. She moans at the feeling, Rumi echos it. She slips inside Rumi's tight heat with ease and begins to fuck her in earnest. She fits her thumb against Rumi's small clit and curls her fingers forward each time she pulls out.

Mira watches Rumi's face the whole time. Watches the way her eyes roll back or clench shut with each thrust, the way her mouth hangs open with a continuous moan that morphs into a squeak or whine when Mira hits the perfect spot. When Mira adds a roll of her hips behind each thrust of her fingers, Rumi clenches down around her and almost screams, her hips lifting up off the floor even with Mira's weight holding her down. Her thighs are quaking, she breathing heavily, and strands of her hair are sticking to her face with sweat. She's beautiful. Mira kisses her again, drawing Rumi's tongue back into her mouth.

The next time she slips back inside, she tucks her pointer finger in as well. Three is Rumi's upper limit, but she so wet there's barely any resistance. She feels the stretch though, because those silk soft walls clench down around the intrusion and Rumi chokes out a gasp. She abandons Mira's abused back and buries her hands in Mira's hair instead, pulling hard enough to have Mira moaning too.

"Please don't stop," Rumi begs, her voice raspy from use. "I'll be so good. Please."

"You are being good," Mira praises. "You're being so good. Will you come for me, baby. Will you be a good girl and come on my fingers?"

That's all it takes. Rumi comes with a pathetic whimper. She turns her face against Mira's cheek and shakes apart, clenching hard on Mira's fingers.

Mira holds her through it until her shaking stops and she relaxes back on the floor, breaths still heavy. She pulls Mira down into a kiss by her hair again and Mira can't help the way her hips twitch. Rumi smiles against her mouth and whispers, "jagi."

Mira just rolls her eyes like she's unaffected and gently removes her fingers from Rumi, cupping her for a moment before removing her hand fully. She's about to wipe her fingers on her pants when Rumi snatches her wrist and brings Mira's fingers to her mouth. As is her style, she makes unsubtle eye contact while she cleans her mess off Mira's fingers. Mira's heart races at the sight. She pushes down on Rumi's tongue with her fingers and slides them as deep as she can. Rumi takes it with a moan.

"You were right," Rumi says when Mira finally removes her fingers from her mouth. "I do taste good."

Mira chuckles darkly. "I hope you're ready for some more. I think I need to sample the source."

Rumi gives her a mischievous smile. "Sorry, miss, only one sample per customer. You're going to have to make a purchase."

"Oh, well in that case," Mira rolls them over until Rumi is sitting in her lap and can feel just how eager she is. "I'll have one of everything." She braces her arms under Rumi's butt and stands in one fluid motion, Rumi's startled laughter tucked against her neck.

She carries Rumi down the hall to her room.