Kis-My-Ft2, International Roll-ations

Title: International Roll-ations [Tamamori/Miyata]
Rating/Warnings: R for girlsex
Summary: Rollerderby girl AU, written by yeska_noka. This is the Miyata/Tamamori interlude I wrote for her fic. Rest of the fic can be found here.

International Roll-ations

“Shower,” Miyata says firmly as soon as they stumble into their motel room, because as much as she wants Tamamori, she could do without the chlorine burning her throat and eyes. Tamamori is cooperative as Miyata pushes her into the bathroom (god bless American hotels) and makes no particular move to help as Miyata undoes all the ties to her various bathing suit pieces again.

Well. it’s not like she tied them that well the first time, after all.

The hot water feels like heaven against Miyata’s skin, chilled from their dash back to the room, but not near as good as Tamamori feels when she stumbles against her.

“Careful,” Miyata warns, and Tamamori giggles. Tamamori giggles at everything when she’s drunk and now’s no exception; the tickle of Miyata’s fingers against her sides, the tiny hotel shampoos, all of it just makes Tamamori giggle harder. Miyata thinks it’s cute and doesn’t interrupt. Instead she kisses Tamamori’s cheek, her jaw, her throat, arms tight around Tamamori’s waist to keep her from taking a spill in the slick tub.

Tamamori is all clumsy roaming hands and slick, teasing presses of skin. But she isn’t steady enough for it to go anywhere good, so Miyata hustles both of them out of the shower as soon as she can’t smell pool chemicals on her skin or hair anymore. Tamamori is equally useless while Miyata is trying to towel them dry, distracted by the fuzzyness of the towels against her skin. After a few passes Miyata gives up, figuring the sheets will do the same job, with the added plus of being horizontal.

It’s definitely the right decision, and Miyata takes a long moment to appreciate the sight as Tamamori flops onto Miyata’s bed, arms spread and flailing a little like she’s making sheet angels. But when Tamamori stretches her legs as well, miles of pale, smooth skin, that’s the end of Miyata’s patience.

Now that she’s not worried about one or both of them cracking their skulls, Miyata finds the clumsy roam of Tamamori’s hands much more appealing. There isn’t much about Tamamori that she doesn’t find appealing, from the line of silver piercings up her cartilage to the cute bow of her mouth to her pert little breasts. As much as being a rather well-endowed Japanese girl does have its advantages, Miyata admits that maybe Tamamori has a point about how Miyata’s are too big when she has to roll them onto their sides so that she can press close to Tamamori without her breasts being squashed awkwardly between them. And hers certainly aren’t as sensitive as Tamamori’s either; when Miyata thumbs one of her nipples, Tamamori arches into the touch, mouth an ‘o’ of surprise.

“Uh-uh, no way,” Miyata says when Tamamori starts pushing at her shoulders. “I remember last time, you gigantic pillow queen. You first.”

“Toshiiiiii,” Tamamori whines cutely, wriggling in a way that’s been serving her well every since she got her first school uniform skirt, but Miyata knows better than to get distracted by that.

Still though, it isn’t like she doesn’t want to, and Tamamori drunk can be slower than Fujigaya hungover sometimes, so… “Gimme your hand,” Miyata gives in with a sigh, and Tamamori obediently lets Miyata grab her wrist and push her hand between Miyata’s legs.

It isn’t going to take much anyway, given how long Miyata’s been waiting for Tamamori tonight, or all day really, since their jam. Miyata’s already slick and sensitive, and the first touch of Tamamori’s fingers has her hissing and grabbing at Tamamori’s shoulders. And then Tamamori does a thing with her fingers and thumb knuckle that, fuck, if Tamamori’s straight then Miyata’ll eat Nika’s sequinned skirt.

“Toshiko,” Tamamori breathes against Miyata’s ear, “come on, already,” and that’s all it takes for Miyata to go to pieces, shaking against Tamamori’s fingers and chest.

“Okay, okay,” she mumbles a minute or two later, when Tamamori starts to shoulder at her impatiently. “Your turn, I promise.” But before she goes anywhere, she tilts her head back for a kiss, and Tamamori indulges her. The kiss is lazy and uncoordinated, Tamamori from the alcohol still and Miyata because nothing’s working right yet, but it’s messy and deep and makes the hairs on Miyata’s arms stand up. When she pulls back for air, Tamamori’s eyes are glazed and her lower lip is puffing up, amplifying her pout.

The pout disappears quick enough when Miyata lets Tamamori push her down this time, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t take her own sweet time, lingering over Tamamori’s cute breasts and flat stomach.

“You could get a tattoo you know,” she murmurs, nosing at the soft skin beside Tamamori’s naval. “Something cute, right here, ne? They do that all over here, it’d be our secret~.”

“Shut up,” Tamamori groans, shifting impatiently against Miyata’s hands and mouth. “Get on with it already!”

Miyata doesn’t budge. “Say please.”

Tamamori grabs two handfuls of Miyata’s hair to pull her face up, and when she gets a good look at Tamamori’s dark eyes and fierce scowl, Miyata shudders and is thankful girls can go again so fast. “Please?” Tamamori says. “Just do it, please.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Miyata says, to herself mostly, and then lets Tamamori push her down just that little bit more, determined to do such a good job of it this time that not even Tamamori can regret it in the morning.

Rest of the fic can be found here.

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