Kis-My-Ft2, Tokyo Girls Collection

Title: Tokyo Girls Collection
Rating/Warnings: R, all-girl AU
Summary: “In our next life, I hope we’re girls.”
AN: Written for Shiritori.

Tokyo Girls Collection

“In our next life, I hope we’re girls.”

“Eh?” Senga turns from the mirror, where she’s been smooshing her cheeks together to see Nikaido on her stomach across Senga’s bed, kicking her bare feet a little as she flips pages in a magazine. “What kind of dumb wish is that? We’re girls right now.”

“It’s not dumb, I like being girls!” Nikaido protests, lips pursing up into a cute little frown.

“If you’re gonna wish for something,” Senga turns back to the mirror, tugging at various pieces of her perm, “wish for stuff we can’t have, like getting married or me knocking you up or, damn, how about being able to kiss you in front of my grandmother?”

“Who is knocking who up?” Nikaido demands. She throws her magazine at Senga’s ass and misses by a mile. “And I wouldn’t kiss anybody in front of your grandmother, ew.”

“You know what I mean.” Senga lets go of her hair and pokes at her nose a little. Some of the fun leaks out of her voice when she adds, “Don’t waste wishes like that.”

“Kenpi?” Nikaido asks, but Senga just shakes her head, hard enough to make her bleached curls bounce. She comes over to flop on the bed next to Nikaido, and Nikaido rolls onto her side to gather her in tightly. “I don’t want you to be anybody but you, you know?”

Senga sighs, breath warm over Nikaido’s throat. “It would just be so much easier–” Her words cut off when Nikaido hugs her so tightly that she squeaks.

“I wouldn’t even know you if you were a guy!” she snaps, little fingers of panic curling coldly in her chest at even the thought of that. “Or the other way. Even if I did, we’d have to hide even more than we do now. We still couldn’t get married, and I’d totally get fired if either one of us got knocked up! So don’t wish that stuff, because I want you to be a girl in this one and in any other one that happens!”

Nikaido runs out of breath and then immediately starts feeling embarrassed for her outburst, that she got so serious when they were just bullshitting about something impossible and stupid. But when she looks down at Senga on her back beside her, Senga’s face is serious, like she doesn’t think it’s so stupid either.

Senga reaches up to push Nikaido’s hair back behind her ear; they have it long again and it gets in the way of everything, but it feels nice when Senga strokes her fingers through the glossy black strands of it. Senga’s fingers keep stroking down, over Nikaido’s shoulder, down her collarbone and over the swell of her breast under her worn tour T-shirt. Nikaido looks down at Senga’s big brown eyes and long lashes, the soft edge of her cheekbones in her heart-shaped face. She tries to imagine her with a stronger jaw, sharper edges, lips not soft from gloss.

She can’t do it, not at all. Senga is Senga.

Senga doesn’t seem that surprised when Nikaido leans in to kiss her suddenly, only humming softly and putting her hand back in Nikaido’s hair to scrunch it, scratching lightly at Nikaido’s scalp with her manicured fingertips.

“I mean, it’s some kind of miracle that we’re here at all, right?” Nikaido says breathlessly when she pulls back for air. “There’s like millions of people in the whole world, and we get stuck in the same unit?”

“Billions, Nika,” Senga corrects gently, the corner of her mouth twitching in a smile. “In the whole world, there’s billions of people.”

“You’d still be in Nagoya,” Nikaido says softly, and maybe that’s at the heart of it. There’s so many small chances that brought them together, and so many times they could have missed each other or quit or been fired or broken an ankle in those fucking heels they dance in. It makes Nikaido feel possessive and desperate, to think that in other universes there might be Nikaidos without Sengas, who have no idea that Sengas even exist. “Who even knows what the hell I’d be doing.”

“You’d have dropped out of high school for a shotgun wedding,” Senga says, then giggles when Nikaido’s eyes narrow. “Even earlier than Tama-chan’s mom!”

“Hey!” Nikaido digs fingers into Senga’s side, making her shriek and flail. They wrestle for a minute, tussling back and forth until Senga throws Nikaido on her back and scrambles on top. Nikaido curses as Senga puts a hand down right on her hair.

“Sorry,” Senga says, giving up just as quickly as they’d started. She tries to push Nikaido’s hair back, out of the way, but it’s a losing battle. Senga seems to realize suddenly that she’s kneeling between Nikaido’s spread legs, and grins as she rocks down a little, watching openly for Nikaido’s reaction. “Don’t you wish it could be a little easier, sometimes?”

“I like it like this,” Nikaido says stubbornly, smoothing hands down Senga’s sides until they’re resting on Senga’s waist, urging her to do that again. “I like being able to switch.”

“I could be inside you and switch if we were both guys,” Senga points out, letting Nikaido guide her in a slow press of their hips over and over, not quite hard enough to be a grind. It’s making Nikaido’s skin warm up all the same; she loves watching Senga over top of her, whatever Senga’s doing.

“No way,” Nikaido growls softly. Her fingers slide up under Senga’s shirt and press against the warm, soft skin, digging in until Senga makes a low noise.

“We wouldn’t even have to worry about whether some toy is going to set off the airport security people when it goes through the scanner,” Senga says, and Nikaido hisses at her to shut up because Tai-chan never ever lets them live that one down. “Just because you can’t wait a couple days.”

“Fuck you, tour weekends are for the best stuff,” Nikaido growls. “Are you gonna just make fun of me up there or do something real? And you use that toy like four times as much as me!”

“Only ’cause you like to watch so much. Shh,” Senga soothes when Nikaido squawks. “Okay, okay, get some of those clothes off if that’s what you want. I guess I can appease you.”

Being skin on skin holds more appeal than continuing the argument, which is really saying something in Nikaido’s world, and she sits up to tug her shirt off quickly and to kick off her shorts while Senga does the same. Senga’s skin is so warm against Nikaido’s when Nikaido lies back down, and Nikaido whines in pleasure from it as she runs hands up Senga’s arms and down her back. Senga starts kissing down Nikaido’s neck, and Nikaido tilts her head to the side for more.

“Should make you go first,” Nikaido says with a soft sigh. “So I don’t have to move after this.”

“No way, that’s your punishment for calling my wishes stupid,” Senga informs her. Nikaido would retort, but Senga’s mouth is already closing around one of Nikaido’s nipples, wet and so much hotter than her skin even. Nikaido arches up into it, moaning softly when Senga lets her teeth scrape a little. They’re pressed too tightly together for Nikaido to return the favor really, but she skims fingers over the sides of Senga’s breasts where they’re squished against her chest, and Senga shivers against her.

Senga doesn’t waste any time working a hand between Nikaido’s legs, long used to Nikaido’s impatience. Nikaido pushes up into the touch, spreading her legs as wide as she can as Senga teases at her clit with a couple little circles.

“Please, come on,” Nikaido urges, and Senga doesn’t make her wait, sliding a finger inside her. Nikaido is already moving into the touch before Senga even gets inside her, her squirming making everything a moving target. Senga starts to slide down Nikaido’s body to get a better grip, but Nikaido digs her fingers in tighter, trying to pull Senga back up. “Stay up here,” she pants. “Want you here.”

“I can’t do it right like this,” Senga points out even as she obeys. She settles against Nikaido’s side to at least give herself room to try. She’s got two fingers inside Nikaido now, and it feels so good, but Nikaido knows Senga is right; she can’t get off from just inside, and Senga can’t concentrate in the right spot on the outside from this position. She tries using her thumb knuckle, and it’s not nothing but hardly more than a tease.

Nikaido drags her head down for a messy kiss, moaning into it the whole time as she pushes down against Senga’s fingers. Senga’s fingers feel so much better than her own even this way, at an angle that Nikaido can more or less reach herself. It’s just Senga, Nikaido guesses, her fingers warm and strong and perfect, and even if Nikaido never gets off on it like this she still likes it so much anyway.

“More,” she murmurs against Senga’s mouth, laughing breathlessly when Senga tsks at Nikaido’s impossible request.

“Can only do one thing,” Senga points out. “Do you want me inside or out? You have to do the other part yourself.”

“Inside,” Nikaido says right away. She can get off by touching herself anytime; being able to squeeze around Senga’s fingers is so, so much better. Senga takes at her word, focusing on stroking Nikaido from the inside exactly right. “Oh, that’s amazing, why’s it so good when you do it?”

Senga laughs against Nikaido’s hair, pressing a kiss to her temple. “It’s not hard to tell when you like something, loud. The whole block probably knows what you like.”

“Shut up, fuck, don’t stop,” Nikaido grumbles. The first touch of her own finger against her clit has her shuddering, already so turned on from Senga touching her. She presses as tight as she can against Senga’s side, hips snapping up against both their hands.

There’s other things they do that Nikaido loves, like Senga over top of her fucking her, or looking down at Senga when she’s riding, but for all its simplicity this position makes Nikaido feel loved, held close to Senga’s chest and kissing in between gasps. Right now, it’s that intimacy that she wants, Senga’s soft words of encouragement whispered against her cheek and the way that Senga curls her fingers inside Nikaido just right.

“Come on,” Senga urges. “Mm, come on, I can feel how close you are.”

She’s right, Nikaido’s getting close, the knot of want pulling tight low in her belly, body moving on its own up into their combined touches. Nikaido doesn’t reach for it particularly hard, not wanting this to end just yet, but then Senga starts whispering other stuff, stuff she might ask Nikaido to do to her when it’s her turn next.

“Your mouth feels so good on me,” she says, “but mm, when I have those long fingers inside me, they feel amazing too. Or I could have you roll me over…”

That’s where Nikaido loses it, tightening all over at the thought of Senga on her hands and knees, and she clenches tight around Senga’s fingers as she rides out her orgasm, moaning until she’s shuddered herself out and can peel her eyes open again. She lets her hand flop to the side but Senga doesn’t pull her hand away. She’s going slower but still just as deeply, making aftershocks roll through Nikaido. Senga kisses Nikaido again, slow like they have all the time in the world, and if Nikaido never exactly comes a second time from that, it’s almost as good and lasts longer.

Nikaido finally pushes Senga’s hand away and pulls her a little more fully on top, her skin tingling everywhere they touch and Nikaido wants to touch all over, every place they possibly can. Senga straddles Nikaido’s thigh and grinds down against it a little, reminding whose turn it is, but she doesn’t fight when all Nikaido does is run her hands all over, snuggling up against Senga’s chest shamelessly.

Nikaido loves the Senga she has, so much, and she doesn’t want any other kind. She looks up to try and make those words come out, for once, but Senga seizes her mouth and kisses them away, kisses Nikaido until she’s breathless from it. When the kiss breaks, Nikaido opens her eyes to find Senga staring down at her, Senga’s eyes say she feels all the same things too. When she speaks, she doesn’t waste her words on that sort of thing.

“My turn.”

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