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Mira looked around the party with an appropriate amount of disinterest. Aloof but not entirely unapproachable.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be there; on the contrary, a lavish party with a large amount of hoity-toity people with too much money lining their pockets and an inability to stop themselves from making just-inappropriate-enough comments after one too many drinks was the perfect distraction for Mira to have something to focus on that wasn’t her birthday.
She didn’t hate her birthday. Not really.
It’s just that her birthday had never really been something celebrated by anyone else in her life.
With her parents, it was her brother’s birthday first. The problem with being a twin, especially to a golden child that could do no wrong in his parents’ eyes, was that a lot of things weren’t just yours anymore. Everything was shared.
Their birthday, their toys, their parents.
Except sometimes it had felt that everything was really just his and she had been grateful enough to accept whatever scraps she could as a child until she’d grown out of the need for validation from an external source and did whatever she cared with little regard to any consequences. They’d have had to be paying attention to give her consequences, anyway.
Joining HUNTR/X had done wonders for so many aspects in Mira’s life. With Celine’s urging, she had gone to therapy and anger management in the years before they debuted, and countless hours spent digging through the lamentable emptiness of her childhood had helped sculpt her into the person she was today. Less bitter but always ready to stand up for herself, self-worth measured not by people who didn’t care to see her but by those that loved her more than anything, and a temper that, while still-short-fused could be redirected into actions less detrimental to her health or state of mind.
But their accomplishments were shared, too.
Their music, their platinum albums, their record-breaking tours.
When she and Rumi had started dating, things had changed again. Where once they had bickered with each other, in jest and in seriousness, now they had conversations that held space for each of them to air out their frustrations and worries without the fear of a full-blown argument leaving one or both of them sore. Arms that had once been hesitant to touch and to hold for fear of shattering something irreparably were now a safety net when emotions became too much or when solace was sought.
But this, too, was something that Rumi and Mira shared together.
Their relationship, their bedroom, their happiness.
And even still, Mira didn’t hate a moment of it. Not like she had when she had been a petulant child, angry at the entire world because two people had been unable to show her a sliver of the adoration they had in excess for her brother. Therapy had taught her that her worth did not come from the things that were hers, but the things that she made. The bonds she had formed, the decisions she had made, every right choice that had made her into the person she was today. Those were things that mattered. The idea of ownership for a date, a place, an idea, paled in comparison to the feeling of knowing she was loved and cared for, regardless of the time, the person, or the accomplishment itself.
“Okay, you’ve either had one too many bottles of soju or you’re thinking way too hard about something that doesn’t deserve the tiniest passing thought.”
Mira glanced over to see Rumi had joined her where she had tucked herself by a ceiling to floor window that overlooked the sparkling Seoul skyline, silhouetted buildings glimmering with neon lights and painted iridescent with the glow of the eternal Honmoon, the ripples dancing lazily to music they couldn’t hear but felt in their very souls. She scrunched her nose almost imperceptibly and rolled her eyes.
“You’re one to talk, over-thinker extraordinaire,” Mira teased, eyes crinkling at the corners as she allowed the tiniest smile to tug at the corner of her lips as she watched Rumi lean against the wall adjacent to her, smiling when she felt Rumi’s knee nudge gently against hers, a silent reassurance that grounded her to the present.
“And here I was, about to suggest we sneak away while everyone is distracted by Zoey giving a rather animated explanation of our writing process.”
Mira followed Rumi’s gaze to the maknae in question, watching with amusement as Zoey waved her hands in the air to mimic scribbling in a notebook, and sure enough, a good half of the party-goers had gathered around her, listening with the sort of intentness that came with people not really interested in the action itself, but the power that came with knowing some feigned insider info about how HUNTR/X came out with hit after hit.
“…okay, yeah, they are pretty distracted.”
Rumi nodded once, checking to make sure no one was watching before she reached for Mira’s hand, their fingers slotting together with an easy familiarity. “Come on, we’re running late.”
“Wait, late?”
Before Mira could ponder that, Rumi had tugged her into motion, heels clacking against the tile floor as she expertly spirited Mira away from the party and down an array of halls that housed the many offices and meeting rooms of Sunlight Record Labels.
This was where they held all their parties and mixers. A somewhat neutral space that kept the girls somewhere that felt like home without having to bring guests to HUNTR/X Tower and risk leakers or paparazzi getting ahold of information or images they didn’t want the general public to know about.
Like how they had an entire two floors’ worth of gym and hunter training equipment, and the girls’ own personal living spaces up in the penthouse.
Mira glanced with mild curiosity at every door she was pulled past, wondering if any might give a hint as to just what Rumi was up to, but none of the doors had any placards or room numbers, providing no information whatsoever for Mira to cater her expectations to.
Finally, Rumi opened a door just enough to back herself through before pulling Mira in and quickly closing the door behind them, leaning her back against it as she allowed herself to drink Mira in, her gaze roving from the strappy heels just peeking out from the hem of her red gown, up along the thigh-high slit in the skirt that showed off Mira’s toned legs, and then finally to the sweetheart bodice that dipped just low enough that it toed the line of appropriate and scandalous. Mira’s favorite sort of outfit.
“Hi.”
“Hey…?” Mira quirked an eyebrow, giving a cursory glance around the dim room before looking back to Rumi. “Wanna tell me why we’re in a meeting room?”
“It’s five minutes until midnight,” Rumi stated, like that was the only answer Mira needed.
In a way it did, though Mira couldn’t understand for the life of her why the date mattered so much to Rumi.
“And..?”
Rumi simply grinned as she pushed herself back against the wall to stand up straight, her movements slow and predatory as she expertly backed Mira up until the backs of her thighs brushed against the table. “And that means I have less than five minutes to make you come.”
Any argument Mira could have possibly come up with died on her lips as Rumi dropped to her knees, her own sparkling gown pooling around her as she let her hands rest at Mira’s hips, using just enough pressure to keep her leaned against the table as she kissed each thigh, nestling her cheek against already-flushed skin as she smiled up at her.
“Unless you had other plans for the next…” She glanced over at the ticking clock on the opposite wall. “Three and a half minutes, minimum.”
It wasn’t often that Mira was rendered speechless, particularly when it came to Rumi, and yet this was decidedly one of those moments, her mouth working but unable to produce any sound, her mind already going fuzzy with the thrill of the scenario. They were hardly a minute’s walk away from a large group of people that could hear them if they weren’t careful, including their manager and their mentor, and Mira didn’t give a fuck.
She nodded her head once, then remembered what Rumi had said and then shook her head fervently. She definitely did not have any other plans. For the foreseeable future, at this rate.
“That’s what I thought,” Rumi murmured, dipping her head to press another feather-light kiss to each knee. “Spread for me, pretty girl.”
Mira’s response was immediate, her body moving almost of its own accord as she rested more comfortably on the table, knees hiking up to drape over Rumi’s waiting shoulders, one hand tugging the thin fabric of her embarrassingly damp panties to the side while the other threaded in Rumi’s hair, urging her closer as she opened her body up for her.
Rumi teased, at first; a gentle line of kisses pressed along the trembling skin of her thigh, until Mira keened softly, the unabashed want so evident that Rumi could feel it like a shimmer through the Honmoon, and she lost herself in it, her tongue finally dragging along her cunt before burying within her, coaxing her open wider as her hands hook under her knees, guiding her to spread further, so Rumi could reach deeper.
Mira was absolutely beside herself in her bliss, her head thrown back as her chest heaved, one hand scrabbling for purchase along the edge of the table, the other buried in lavender curls, nails scraping against her scalp as a plea for more, more, more. She was completely at Rumi’s mercy. Completely hers. She could have drowned in the feeling of it all, the warmth of Rumi’s touch at her thighs and inside of her, the thrill of the risk of being stumbled upon, the bliss that had begun to coil tightly in the pit of her stomach, achingly close to that perfect spiral out of control.
She would have, she was certain, until Rumi withdrew, replacing the warmth of her mouth with the heat of her touch, two fingers pressing into her just slowly enough to halt the wave of her release. She whined, even as Rumi kissed apologetically along her body as Mira let her legs fall to the side, hooking over Rumi’s hips as she straightened enough to press their foreheads together, her lips ghosting against Mira’s cheek as she set an agonizingly slow pace.
“You’re so perfect, Mira…” she murmured softly, trailing off into a spattering of kisses along the curve of her cheek and down her jaw. “Don’t tell you that enough…” She kissed down her throat and at the hollow of her collarbone, her movements still slow and languid, rekindling the heat in Mira’s belly. “You’re my everything… I’m so happy you found me… I love you so much… Jagiya…”
Like Rumi just couldn’t contain herself, each sentence was paired with her fingers curling deeper, faster, harder, her lips trailing across the expanse of skin laid bare from the neckline of her gown, never lingering in the same place for too long.
And Mira could only hold Rumi’s gaze, mouth hanging open as whimper after whimper was pulled from her throat, each sound melting into the next, pitching higher and higher the closer she neared to that burning collapse of pure bliss. She was drooling, she was sure of it, could feel the slight twinge of embarrassment at being seen like this, but the pleasure won over all other emotions, especially as she felt the pressure in her core reach its peak.
“R-Rumi… Hah~”
It was the only thing she could get out as she came undone at the seams, voice trailing away into the prettiest whine Rumi had ever heard her make, her lips chasing the sound of it as they crashed against Mira’s, gladly swallowing every whimper and whine she made as she quivered around the digits still buried within her, relishing in the feel of Mira’s hips rutting helplessly through the bliss.
Much to Mira’s dismay, Rumi broke the kiss a second later with a soft gasp, glancing somewhere behind Mira. Her lips curled into a proud smirk as she glanced back down, eyes lit with delight despite Mira pouting breathlessly up at her.
“Perfect.”
To make up for having withdrawn so abruptly, Rumi leaned down to kiss her again, all tongue and teeth as she kissed Mira until she felt her go nearly limp with sheer satisfaction, humming softly as she nosed her jaw gently, pressing a kiss to the base of her throat.
“Happy birthday, Mir…”
Mira couldn’t help her breathless huff of a laugh, her eyes closed contently as she let Rumi continue to love on her.
“You were really ready to risk it all for this little shenanigan of yours, huh?”
“That’s bold talk from someone I’m still two fingers deep in,” Rumi murmured, curling them slowly as a reminder that left Mira whining softly again.
“Rumi…” Mira’s voice come out softer, rougher than she intended, more encouraging than dismissive. “You’re insufferable.”
Rumi only hummed in consideration, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I’m yours.”
Mira considered that, holding Rumi’s gaze for a long moment. No one had ever wanted to be hers, chosen it like it was the preferable option, and yet here Rumi was, promising it like it was as easy for her as breathing. The simplest thing in the world, something that simply was. And it shook Mira to realize that she felt the exact same way for Rumi. Would give her anything she asked for, so long as it was her that was asking for it. “And I’m yours.” Mira whispered, voice hushed as she pressed her forehead to Rumi’s, noses brushing together lightly as she breathed in the heady scent of Rumi’s perfume mixed with sex and arousal, alighting something primal in her very bones as she spoke. “Forever, if we decide that’s what we want. We have time.”
Rumi hummed softly, warm breath ghosting against Mira’s lips as she brought a hand to cup her face, thumb brushing gently along the curve of her jaw, the her kiss-swollen bottom lip. She kissed her again, slowly, gently, an answer of its own kind as she resumed her slow, deep pace. “…we have time.”
Mira was pretty sure she could spare a bit more of it letting Rumi make her come so hard she saw stars.