marlowemuses | Everything I got, I got working for me

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Everything I got, I got working for me

As she rapped her knuckles against the hotel room door and leaned against the door frame, using her 5'11" height to loom, Satoru felt jubilant with success even though this tour hadn't officially started.

It had taken months of planning already, and Satoru itched with impatience. When she'd first announced a joint tour with Suguru, Satoru already had the plan drafted with her own media team, but they'd mentioned nothing to Suguru's team, only sending over the proposal after Satoru had made an informal teaser announcement about it. She'd half expected that Suguru would refuse the dare and call it out as the prank that it absolutely was (at which point Satoru would be able to make a stink about Suguru being a coward and backing out of an agreement). So she'd been thrilled that Suguru had agreed to the tour.

They'd share the stage--there was simply no other reasonable way to do it. Swapping off songs, providing support vocals, even featuring a few duets. It was a highly unusual arrangement, but that had helped to blow up the publicity around the tour, which had sold out within hours, immediately creating clamor to have more dates added and a social media frenzy of fans thrilled or enraged about the situation.

They'd arrived at the hotel and their first show was tomorrow night, but aside from some agreed-upon arrangements and a set list, negotiated and exchanged through their respective teams, they'd done nothing to prepare for performing together. Satoru wasn't worried about it. She knew every one of Suguru's songs. She'd written the arrangements herself that she'd sent over to propose which ones she wanted to cover with support vocals. Even though she'd never been to any of Suguru's shows, she'd seen recordings of them. As much as Satoru wanted to spend the next three months irritating the shit out of Suguru, she also wanted to uncompromisingly create good music and put on an incredible performance that their fans would be talking about for the rest of their lives. And she knew she could rely on Suguru to do the same.

Finally, though, they'd arrived at the same hotel, and finally Satoru could be face to face again with her best enemy.

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Satoru tightens her grip, winding tighter around Suguru, nuzzling her face into the side of Suguru's neck. She's tempted to insist on her staying, that she can skip one day of working out. After a minute, she relents and lets go.

Stretching as she gets up, Satoru yawns and finds her bra, room key, and phone. She ruffles her own hair so that the messiness is the way she likes it, checking around herself to make sure she has what she needs, then snagging Suguru with an arm around her waist, pulling her in again and nuzzling the side of her head.

Letting up before Suguru shoves her off, Satoru heads out the door and back to her own room to brush her teeth and change.

Suguru watches her go, not saying anything about the nuzzling or clinging. She isn't sure what to say about it, with Satoru so quiet, and so much still left lingering between them.

Once she's gone, Suguru climbs out of bed to get ready for the day. She generally does start her morning off with a workout, to clear her head, and all of the hotels they're staying at on the tour have gyms, plus she has some weights on the bus she'll be using so she can do something while on the road. It's a good distraction, especially when her head is a jumble.

It helps, in that she's able to get out of her head somewhat, and the rest of the day is a whirlwind because she does have to be packed and ready to go before she leaves for the arena. The past few days have been easy, since they weren't traveling, and there was time to spend in the hotel, but it'll be a lot of travel after the show that night.

She deliberately doesn't seek out Satoru and fills in her day with things so she's busy just in case the other woman tries to find her, so she doesn't run into her until close to showtime.

Satoru's disappointed to not see more of Suguru that day until they're about to head out on stage. Catching Suguru again, Satoru slips her arms around Suguru's waist, giving her a warm squeeze. She can't nuzzle now that she's already in makeup, but her face lingers close to Suguru's throat, breath warm against her skin.

As she lets go, she notices Nanami looking startled and somewhat concerned, but ignores it as she heads out to perform.

Her energy's different on stage now, playful without the sharp edge, and all of her interjections on Suguru's songs are flirty things. When they get to Contact, Satoru sings her part differently, more coaxing. She's changed a few of the lyrics, too, urging stay with her, go back to her, playful but insistent, lips curved into a challenging little smirk each time she catches Suguru's gaze on one of those altered lines.

The squeeze before the show isn't unusual. Well, it is now, but it hadn't been unusual a decade ago. And it would be so easy to let everything return to that same state, back where they had been before Haibara's death. She gave in too quickly to Satoru, or rather, Satoru took the bedtime demands as her giving in, and that's going to have to be addressed.

But she refuses to think about that on stage, when she has to be performing. The energy is different, and it's fun without the sharp bite, even if the sheer amount of flirting that goes on is enough to make her faintly flustered. There are times when Suguru thinks she almost has Contact figured out, although it doesn't seem quite there yet. The changing lyrics do annoy her, but she manages to keep up with them, follow the changes well enough.

The energy of the show gets to her, and Suguru feels in her element again. Shows are exhausting for her, even if she loves them, and she can't wait to get back to her dressing room. But she does stop Satoru in the hallway, in those few moments they have, pushing her up against the wall this time. She's not angry or as annoyed as she was in previous nights, but she still gives Satoru an unimpressed look.

"If you want improv, tell me beforehand," she says, flicking her finger against Satoru's side. "And if you keep looking at me like that, the gossip rags are going to start printing shit."

"So what if they do?" Satoru retorts with a smirk. Happy to be pinned up against a wall by Suguru, Satoru slips her arms around Suguru's waist automatically. If Suguru expected to be let go easily, she's going to quickly realize her mistake in initiating physical contact with Satoru, whose limpet qualities tend to kick in even when she's not given an excuse.

One hand does slide downward, however, cupping Suguru's ass and giving it a squeeze.

Their bandmates are likely to come around the corner any second, but Satoru's arms are strong and immovable around Suguru's waist, and her posture is otherwise relaxed and lazy as she leans back against the wall.

Those limpet qualities have only seem to have gotten worse in the years since Suguru last saw her. She reaches around to grab her wrist. "Satoru, behave yourself for a little longer," she says, squeezing her wrist and tugging it off her ass.

"I don't relish being dragged through the rags. You should care a little about your reputation." Not that Satoru has seemed to care, ever. Suguru cares, but mostly because she wants some measure of privacy. It's hard to do what she does in bed when people are speculating about her life and sexuality and sex life all the time. "You're going to be the one answering questions, if it comes down to that."

She steps back, though she doesn't get far because Satoru's arms are strong, but she can hear people on either side of the hallway.

"You're a mess. I want you showered before I see you again."

“Yes, Suguru.” Satoru’s smile is playful enough to be mocking, but she takes the condition as a command and lets go. It sounds like an invitation to her: shower, then come and menace Suguru some more. It’s a plan.

So she goes and cleans up after the concert, showering and changing into lounge pants and a tank top, a soft wireless bra she can sleep in. She checks in with her people, makes sure that everything is resolved and they know where she is, gets fed and drinks more water, and then lets herself onto Suguru’s bus instead of climbing onto her own.

It wasn't intended as an invitation, but Suguru suspects that is how Satoru will take it, and she's curious to see what she'll do, since they are going off to their buses, not the hotel.

She mostly expects Satoru to chase her down in the dressing room, and when she emerges from her dressing room with no Satoru in sight, assumes they'll run into each other the next day, at their next venue. It doesn't occur to her that Satoru might sneak onto her bus until she's on the bus, staring at her tour mate as the driver starts to pull away. Satoru's bus has already left, she knows, since the convoy has already started; Suguru had been a little late getting to the bus, wanting to check in with the tour manager about some of the set pieces.

"In the habit of wandering into strange places, Satoru?" she asks, taking a seat on the couch, leaving some space between them.

"Oh, I don't think your bus is that strange," Satoru says lightly, cheerful, taking the question playfully. (It's also true that Satoru is in the habit of wandering in anywhere that strikes her fancy. Why not? And if it is a strange place, that makes it all the more interesting.) "A bit goth, maybe, but that's just your influence on things."

Suguru leaves space between them, but that's fine. Satoru just turns and leans back, settling her head into Suguru's lap.

Suguru gives her a flat look, unimpressed; her jokes are not that good. If the corners of her mouth twitch because she is still weak to Satoru's brand of silliness, it's only fleeting and means nothing.

She sighs when Satoru puts her head in her lap; like the bus, this is something she should have considered before, something so quintessentially Satoru. It harkens back to who they were before.

Suguru curls her hand gently but firmly around Satoru's neck, making it obvious that her hand is there. She traces Satoru's lip with her thumb. "Do you know what you're doing, Satoru?"

She should mention that she's not the same Suguru she once was— Satoru's Suguru— and that the mean, bitchy Suguru was just as much a part of her. Satoru doesn't seem to like that part of her, and Satoru doesn't really have anywhere to go if she suddenly doesn't want that.

On the other hand, Suguru is tired of talking, especially when nothing seems to matter to Satoru, or get through to her, and she's just as tired of holding back all the time. Some of the stuff the night before had been an act; she's generally much warmer, especially when her girls are good for her. But some of it had been real. (And she thinks, no matter what, that Satoru does need to be spanked.)

The problem is that Suguru is still deeply attracted to Satoru. Satoru is a gorgeous woman, even dressed down without makeup, and Suguru has eyes. And her brand of playfulness and teasing shaped so much of Suguru's general thoughts and attitudes about desire that it's hard to disconnect the two. She wants Satoru, despite the years of bad blood between them.

Maybe she gives in, lets this happen: fucks Satoru on her bus, and in their various rooms, and maybe even in her dressing room. Then, in three months, with the tour over and Satoru done with her, bored by everything and moving on to new pastures, she'd have had her fill. Fucked Satoru out of her system.

Satoru's eyes have closed, but they still crinkle at that question, lips curving in a grin. "Not entirely," she confesses, because it's true she doesn't have this all thought out. Her lips brush against Suguru's thumb as she speaks, and she flicks out her tongue briefly to tease. "But I know a little more than last night."

Since she'd only figured out the disconnect after Suguru had already left. But getting allowed back into Suguru's room had worked out great for her, and she still felt blissful with the high of having slept in Suguru's bed.

"Do you know what you're doing, Suguru?"

"Of course I do," she says with a scoff. She has no clue what she's doing or how badly this is going to end for her. It's a pity her manager isn't around to talk her out of this, or that Nanami and Shoko aren't around to pull Satoru away. "I've done this a dozen times."

She pushes her thumb into Satoru's mouth, pressing down on her tongue.

"I don't share well, Satoru."

Satoru gives a surprised whimper of desire as Suguru’s thumb pushes into her mouth like that. Even though she didn’t anticipate it, the obviously erotic gesture helps to ground her, making her more certain of what she wants. They’re doing this. Satoru does want her. Has wanted her for far longer than she realized, and now that there’s an actual possibility of it, Satoru isn’t going to let go. Suguru is hers.

She rubs her tongue against Suguru’s thumb, heated and inviting, sucking on her with a little moan.

The way Suguru answers her question certainly isn’t how Satoru meant it, and she doesn’t believe that Suguru does really know what she’s getting herself into. (Largely because it’s Satoru dragging her into it, renewing her efforts every time Suguru tries to squirm free.)

Suguru’s warning just draws a lifted brow, however, because she needs more context. Sharing what? Sharing the bus? Her bed? Her time, her things? Sharing Satoru herself? (Doesn’t that last one imply a claim? If she will not share Satoru, it means that Satoru is hers.)

At the lifted brow, Suguru slides her thumb out of Satoru's mouth so she can talk, if needed. But she keeps her hand around her throat, thumb now on her pulse point.

"You can't sleep with anyone else while we're doing this," she clarifies. "For practical purposes, mostly. No risk of STIs if you aren't sleeping with anyone else, and we can coordinate much easier." And Suguru doesn't share easily, especially when she's romantically attached to someone; she wants their time and attention. It had been easy when she was the main focus of Satoru's attention, and she hadn't needed to share that, or think deeply about why she hadn't been okay when Satoru started paying more attention to other people.

"I don't know if you're sleeping with anyone on your crew, or have someone around," she adds. "But no jumping between beds."

"Oh," Satoru says at the first clarification, blinking cluelessly. Suguru keeps talking, even though there's not really any need for it. Once she finishes, Satoru just shrugs. "No. Why would I?"

It's not really how she operates. The concept of sleeping with anyone else while she's around Suguru just doesn't make any sense. Satoru doesn't often get interested in anyone anyway, and when she does it's almost always in the context of collaborating. Paying attention to anyone else? Collaborating with anyone else? While Suguru's around? It's laughably absurd.

Comfortable in Suguru's lap, Satoru just watches her calmly, waiting to be given either further instructions or further caresses.

If it were anyone else, Suguru would wonder if she took this seriously, because Satoru's simple shrugs and easy acceptance make it seem like she has no concerns about this. Possibly thinks it's a lark. But that's Satoru, simply unbothered by almost everything.

Suguru envied that nonchalance when they were younger.

"And I am mean," she adds. Perhaps not as mean as she thinks, but she knows there are sensations she wants Satoru to feel, and things she wants from Satoru that might not work. To demonstrate, she trails her hand down, slipping beneath Satoru's top and her bra, fingers unerring in their mission to find her nipple. She flicks her fingers against it as well as she can, trapped beneath the layers of cloth, then pinches it and twists. It's a mimic of Satoru's nipple twister from the other night, but more pointed, and she doesn't let go. Her other hand falls into Satoru's hair, pulling sharply.

"Mhm. You were always mean," Satoru agrees, unworried. Keening as Suguru finds and starts to torment her nipple, Satoru arches up, eyes falling closed. "I always used to like it when you were mean to me. Well. Maybe not always. But a lot of the time. Last night, though--"

Whimpering as Suguru's torment continues, Satoru writhes for her, but she doesn't do anything to complain or resist. Her thighs press tighter together, cunt giving an interested throb in reaction to how Suguru's teasing her. "Last night you were trying to make me feel worthless. Like I didn't matter. That's different. I can't take that."

"I wasn't mean in this way," she points out, letting go of her nipple to run her thumb over it soothingly. They'd cuddled and hugged, and Satoru had clung to her or hung off her, but it had never gone beyond that. Suguru wanted to kiss her sometimes, but there was never a chance, and by the time she'd really figured out what she wanted, Satoru had been slipping away from her, like sand held in her hand.

"Not worthless," Suguru comments softly. Too soft. She looks away, then back to Satoru, with a firmer expression. "Sometimes I do want you to crawl to me and kneel between my legs. And sometimes you'll have to earn my touch. You don't get it just because you're Gojo Satoru, but because you're mine, and being a good girl for me. And if you don't want to be good, that's your choice, but I'm not just going to give in to your demands or let you do whatever you want."

And then, she wants to clarify: "Anything that happens on stage won't impact us here, that's different." That's their career, and Suguru won't let this... thing between them impact their music, or let Satoru's antics on stage carry over too much into the bedroom.

Satoru makes a noise of acknowledgment, but her gaze slips away from Suguru. After last night, she’s not ready to agree too quickly to being obedient. Earning Suguru’s touch sounds like it might require work. Effort. She’s not making any promises on that front, either. She’s getting touches from Suguru now, after all. Were these ones “earned” according to Suguru’s standards?

Crawling between Suguru’s legs sounds like it could be fun. But Satoru also isn’t planning to agree to these terms about not just getting her way. Suguru has always made exceptions for her and always will. Satoru would rather play things by ear and find a dynamic that feels natural for them both rather than agreeing to these very general rules up front. Those rules are for other people. Not for Satoru. She’s curious and interested about the prospect of obeying Suguru—that had always come very naturally in the past—but she’s not going to agree to the same terms that Suguru would offer to anyone.

Satoru's quiet, not even looking at her, and Suguru sighs, squeezing her neck briefly, just a slight more pressure, and letting her hand fall away. This is going to be a mess and Suguru had sworn to herself, after she left, that she'd avoid romantic messes. It's worked for her for nine years; plenty of fun, plenty of sex, but no romantic entanglements. Trust Satoru, with her attitude and her cheek and her pretty eyes to barge her way into Suguru's life again, throw it into chaos, and expect to get her way.

Suguru could demand she say something, at least more of an acknowledgement of what she's said. This isn't a full on kink negotiation, and she wouldn't want that with Satoru (doesn't like doing that in general, beyond establishing some baseline things). She wanted more from Satoru once, and she knows better now than to expect anything from her, and this just makes it more obvious that Satoru is just after her own pleasure at Suguru's hands.

Whatever. This is just for some fun.

"What do you want, Satoru?"

Satoru only needs to think about the question for a moment. She feels like it's supposed to be about sex, that's what Suguru is asking, but all Satoru can think about is her certainty that Suguru had gotten hurt somehow. It still doesn't fully make sense to her, but she's pretty sure she's got the core of it right. Suguru's been acting like an injured animal, lashing out to protect herself.

"You," Satoru answers, shifting onto her side in order to press her face into Suguru's belly, arms curling around her waist. It's the best answer she has. The sex stuff is irrelevant. They can figure that out. Satoru needs her Suguru. That's what matters. "What do you want, Suguru? Is the humiliation stuff all that gets you off, or can I just eat you out or something?"

'You' like it's as simple as that. Especially when she was asking about sex, in a physical manner. Maybe it was as simple as that for Satoru, but it could never be that easy for Suguru.

"It's not the only thing that gets me off, though it adds depth." Suguru does clarify beyond that. Satoru doesn't seem to want to dig into that stuff, and so she won't push it— at least not at the start. She tightens her hand in Satoru's hair, and tugs, making Satoru look up at her. "I'm the one controlling pleasure here, though."

Suguru lets go of Satoru, and reaches up to pull her hair out of the bun she'd put it in earlier, letting it fall loose. "Off my lap, sweetheart. Sit up."

She wants to be the first one to provide any pleasure here, and she's always been carefully controlled about any touches she gets in return. She assumes Satoru won't go for that entirely, but she's already conceded too much to Satoru.

Satoru makes a grateful sound at that hand tugging in her hair, arching up and squirming a little again. It draws her attention back easily, and her eyes lift to Suguru, especially as her hair spills free. Satoru makes an appreciative sound, lifting a little, wanting to bury her hands in that dark hair.

But she obeys without question, especially since Suguru's calling her 'sweetheart' now instead of the anonymity treatment she'd been getting yesterday. Satoru rolls to sit up, eyes dark and hungry now. Her hands settle onto Suguru's thigh, kneading at her like a cat, but she otherwise waits attentively for Suguru to give her next commands.

Rather than giving any orders, Suguru is the one to move, sliding off the couch and scooting between Satoru's legs, pushing them apart. She looks up at the other woman, smirking slightly, and rests her hands on Satoru's thighs.

She's usually good with words, especially in these moments, but right now she's not sure what to say. There's still something awkward there, it feels like, and she has no clue how her normal dirty talk would land with Satoru. So much continues to throw her off, which she should have expected, she thinks, considering it's Satoru.

But she has wanted to do this for years, and even if nothing else happens between them, then at least Suguru can say she's gotten a taste of Satoru. She slides her fingers up her thighs, hooking them around the waist of her lounge pants, and tugging. "Lift up," she instructs, so she can tug those down, along with her underwear.

Satoru's surprised when Suguru kneels before her like that. Suddenly feeling shy, Satoru blushes, not sure how to react to this. It feels wrong, accepting something like this from Suguru. Like she's taking advantage of her friend. But Satoru also wants to try to trust her and obey her, and she's pretty sure that Suguru is being more genuine this time, not keeping Satoru at a distance.

"Are you sure?" Satoru asks, but she lifts her hips as instructed, helping to wiggle out of her pants and underwear. "You don't gotta. Um."

She can't close her legs with Suguru between them, but her knees tilt inward to try and preserve a tiny bit of modesty, feeling bashful about being exposed before Suguru. With the skimpy costumes she wears, Satoru's thoroughly waxed, leaving only a little tuft of white hair on her mound.

Everything I got, I got working for me

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