Work Text:
Tokyo. Night out the window. She sees towers of starlight twinkle in blissful remove from the ground at which they stand. A million shifting stars at the bases of those great steles faced edgewise to the heavens. Kita strums her guitar.
She is sitting with Ryo in the marble room. Ryo's parents' place. It is not often that the bassist revealed the sum of her dwelling to just any friend and even the likes of her polycule are rarely blessed to see it. For Kita to stand inside of it makes her the most special of all. The red one strums and strums quietly at Ryo's terminus. She is cooped like a baby chick in between Ryo's legs. The song mirrors the terminal waltz of the cars below. The bed is pressed under the window and the shining darklight of the moon falls quaint upon her resting place. Kita imagines Ryo lying in it, her face a moon, a pale reflection.
A defective note. Kita nicks her finger on the string and flicks it away with a tiny yelp. Ryo notices and chuckles as she slumps down horizontally on her bed with her head stamped into her pillows. She looks down at her phone. “Try again,” says she.
Kita does. She is playing a simple tune from one of her songbooks. All goes well for her until that one part when she nicks her finger on the string and again whips it back like the claws of some jittering feline. Ryo laughs at her again. Kita grumbles as she regards the blue one, a slight pinkness about her features.
“You’re not helping!”
“I’m not trying to. You failing is cute.”
She blushes more and pouts. “What about this do you find cute?” She places down the guitar on her lap and folds her arms. “The more I learn about you the more I grow to despise you.”
“Ouch.” Ryo thinks on it. “I think it’s cute because you’re learning. It’s like watching a kid learn to play guitar. You feel proud of them.” Ryo arcs her leg and prods Kita’s tailbone with her toe. “I’m proud of you.”
“That’s weird.”
“Why’s that weird?”
“Because I’m, like, your girlfriend.”
“I guess. Or maybe imagine it as being proud of an AI you trained to play rock."
“Why would I be proud of that?”
“Good point.”
Kita sighs and looks back down at her guitar and sees the moonlight licking its strings. They glister darkly in the quietness and she brings one hand down to gently caress them. She is reminded of Ryo, her fingers. She smiles. No use pretending anymore, Kita, she’s reminded. So she pushes the guitar further along the foot of the bed, away from the both of them, before slowly falling onto Ryo’s chest. Ryo grunts, looking up from her phone and glaring at her girlfriend on her chest, as Kita lets loose a deeply contented sigh into the nape of her neck.
“What are you doing,” Ryo grunts out. “Help. I’m drowning.”
The vocalist snickers. “You’re so annoying, senpai.”
“That’s no way to address your senpai.”
“Hey, until you pay me back for lunch, I’ll talk to you however I want.”
“Fair. Fair.” Ryo grins and sets aside her phone and brings her arms over her. She holds on. Holds her close. Kita sighs into her. “Next time you need to bum off me, I’m game, babe.”
Ryo’s sick vocal fry makes the vocalist blush. Pursing her lips, Kita looks away from Ryo while at the same time burying her scalp in the nape of her neck. “You’re so…”
“What?”
Kita grumbles. Everything about Ryo makes her giddy. The bassist’s chest pulses beneath hers, a constant beat sustaining their touch. The only light in the room is the light of the moon and all the while the soft hum of the city outside sustains them.
“The more I know about you,” Kita says, raising herself, glaring deep into those yellow eyes and propping herself above Ryo like a bird in flight, “the more I truly despise you, Ryo-senpai.”
That smug smirk. That sparkle in her eyes. “I know you love me.”
Kita does a deep raspy laugh at that. “I hate you.”
“Before the Polykessoku you seemed pretty crazy about me.”
“Yeah but…”
“And I like girls who go crazy over me.” She reaches up and combs her slender fingers through Kita’ hair and makes her yelp with anticipation. “So go crazy for me.”
Kita’s on top of her now. The red one is red as can be, flustered at the sight of her girlfriend, eyes swirling with opportunity, before she finally goes all in and kisses her deeply and presses her head into the pillow, an azure halo forming around Ryo’s head as she sinks into the bed.
… But the second Ryo tries tongue, Kita yips like she’d been touched by a frog and pulls back. Ryo laughs. Kita huffs and bunches up Ryo’s shirt in her clenched fists.
“Idiot!” she shouts.
“Tsundere,” Ryo says.
“I-I don’t…” Kita sighs shakily and collapses back next to her. Ryo smiles, but that eventually fades.
“Sorry,” she makes out.
Kita finally smiles back. “I-It’s fine,” she says. “I just wasn’t ready.”
They’re both on their sides facing one another and all is quiet except for the vocalist’s breathing soft and high and amid that the sustenance of eye contact is all there is to send them. Ryo cocks her head forward, expectantly, making time for Kita. Kita closes her eyes. Ryo takes that as her cue.