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The President looks incredibly hot in her racing silks.
It’s a warm sunny day, and Air Groove can only watch on with a sympathetic expression as Symboli Rudolf steps out of the shade of the grandstand for the fourth time that morning.
Temperature wise, that is.
For indeed, she had known that the photographers would be arriving today for the documentary filming, but she had not anticipated just how many times her co-worker would need to step back inside the changing rooms to fix her hair.
I wish the director had simply chosen a different time of the year to finish all this filming.
“Just like that, Miss President!”
Beside her, standing behind the camera and safe under his sunhat, the photographer gives a single thumbs up in the President’s direction and receives a nod in reply. He’s clearly the more invested of the three of them, fussing over the perfect pose and expression for far longer than necessary.
It is, quite frankly, a waste of his efforts. Rudolf is the picture of composure in her military style jacket, hardly needing anyone to tell her how to stand. If anything, the man should let Rudolf choose her own natural look and be done with the whole thing already.
They are adults, they can endure an hour of heat just as they had in their careers. Out at practice or standing at the finish line the scorching heat did not bother her so. The sweat shining on her skin is a testament to her efforts in becoming Empress.
Symboli Rudolf is the very same. Even with her makeup smudged by the sweat she still looks every part of the proud Emperor, and Air Groove has been quite content with the results of the first few shoots.
Still, she thinks to herself, thank the Goddesses that someone has invented air conditioning.
“Alright, let's do a serious expression. Ready…”
Fortunate enough to be standing under cover, Air Groove leans over to peer through the camera monitor, watching the way Rudolf’s expression becomes focused when the photographer calls out to her. The hardening of her eyes, the tiny frown, the energy that seemed to crackle across her skin when she looks upon the turf…
What would it be like to race with you, President? Electrifying, I imagine.
Just before the final shot is taken, Rudolf’s eyes move over to where Air Groove is standing, waiting for some signal as she has every time before. Air Groove simply lets out a huff through her nose and turns her head away. A flash in her peripherals proceeds the click of a shutter.
They wrap it up a few minutes later, and the photographer asks to meet them in the council office after lunch before taking his leave. Satisfied that their time out in the sun is coming to an end, the Empress reaches for the President’s water bottle waiting next to her foot, only to frown when her fingers touch canvas instead of metal.
My bag?
It would have been inefficient for her to simply stand here for the hour it took to get the photos, so she had placed a pile of documents into her carry bag. Air Groove had planned to fill them out as she sat waiting for the pictures to be taken, but it's only now that she realises she hadn’t even reached for the zipper. She’d been so enraptured by the photoshoot.
The realization sends a surge of frustration through her. Why had she come in the first place? It wasn’t like she had been doing anything other than distracting herself.
But the answer comes with the footsteps as Rudolf climbs up the first few steps of the grandstand. Because the President asked you to.
“Apologies for the wait.” The President pauses in her stride a few feet away from her, still standing tall even with no cameras around. It’s quite fascinating, how she always stood as though waiting for someone to take a picture. Even though the heat of her jacket must have been unbearable she makes no effort to shift or shrug.
Air Groove, finding the missing bottle hidden behind her bag, offers it out without a word. With a polite ‘thank you’ Rudolf unscrews the cap and takes a sip.
“I have it on good authority that the next shoot will not be half as long.”
“The wait is no issue. But,” Air Groove crosses her arms, the tiny pause in her speech allowing Rudolf enough time to pay full attention. “The hesitation regarding camera flashes was unnecessary."
“Ah. You noticed.” Rudolf’s ears twitch the tiniest bit. “I did not wish you to be uncomfortable.”
Groove sighs. “I am more than capable of turning my head before a photo, President.”
It’s a sore spot for her, to be treated as though she were fragile. Ever since her injury at the Shuka Sho she cannot help but take notice of every accommodation the people around her had made. When flash photography had been banned on the track not a month later, there had been a genuine struggle to let her relief overcome the embarrassment.
Rudolf has been different, as well, walking closer when they presented in public, and plainly declaring that no flash should be used when the press took their pictures.
The only thing keeping her from being mortified every time has been the way Rudolf had smiled at her in the aftermath.
Now, the Emperor is bowing her head. “My apologies. I did not mean to imply you were incapable or oversensitive.”
It isn’t a boundary she had raised, yet, so she can hardly hold it against the President for simply looking out for her. “As long as we’re clear. I… do not wish for it to be made so obvious in the public.”
“Of course. Again, I am sorry.”
It’s quite awkward, watching the Emperor apologise in her racing silks for the second time in a minute, and Air Groove would quite like to get someplace cooler so she dismisses the conversation with a wave of her hand. “Let us move on.”
“Yes.” Rudolf smooths down the hem of her jacket and tries fruitlessly to neaten the hair that has begun to mat together in the heat. “I would quite like to return to my room for a shower before lunchtime ends.”
Stepping off the path, Groove gestures to a fire escape door almost camouflaged against the old brick wall.
“There’s a shortcut through the back entrance. We can use the elevator on the eastern wing.”
Rudolf has a grateful look on her face as she turns to follow. “Ah yes, I had forgotten. Please, lead the way.”
They don’t often enter the administration building from this side. It hasn’t been renovated in quite some time, and it’s rare for students to be here for more than just a few moments passing through to some other part of the school.
There’s been more than a few complaints about a mysterious smell coming from the eastern wing. Air Groove has her suspicions about a certain self proclaimed scientist running laboratory experiments in an unused classroom, but several impromptu inspections by the safety committee have revealed that Agnes Tachyon is somehow not responsible.
All in all, it’s a rather quiet and unassuming section of the otherwise energy filled academy and she thinks no more of it as she presses the button to call the elevator down.
With a small ding the metal doors open and the two of them step inside. It’s smaller than its counterpart found at the front of the building, but not uncomfortably so. What Air Groove does find rather upsetting is that the chamber clearly lacked proper ventilation, stuffy and far warmer than she would have liked.
She can’t even remember ever using it before. There had once been rumours that it was faulty but she’s heard no such claims ever be validated. Pressing the button to the third floor, she shuffles in a little more to make space for Rudolf to enter behind her and waits for the doors to close.
They are both quiet as the ascent begins. Rudolf, standing opposite her, lets out a sigh and shifts her shoulders. “I apologise, I must look a rather poor sight.”
Air Groove winces in sympathy, but waves the apology aside. “We have dealt with our peers in locker rooms for years now, President. It is no issue.”
And that's the last thing that is said before the elevator stops in place.
For a moment, the two of them wait for the doors to open to the first floor, and for some other traveller to join them. But ten seconds pass by and Groove frowns as the floor number refuses to change. “It’s taking its time.”
Reaching over, she gives the button to open the doors a few firm presses with her finger, but the elevator refuses to obey her command. “Does it usually take this long to open?”
The elevator remains still for ten more seconds and Air Groove looks the control panel up and down. Again, she tries the open door switch but the click of the button is the only response that the elevator gives.
“Just give it a few minutes. Maybe someone’s hit the alarm button, some prank.” It’s unlikely, given that this section of the school is so sparsely populated and her disciplinary efforts have certainly erased any kind of mischievous intent on this strength. But a minute goes by and the only sound is the shuffling of feet and their breathing.
Rudolf, her own confusion written on her face, reaches over and gently taps the button marked with floor two. “Hm. This might be a more substantial problem. Is there some issue with the elevator that we were not made aware of?”
Air Groove shakes her head. “You and I combined would never miss such an important notice. No, this must be a new development.”
“Hm. Should we press the alarm button?”
“Perhaps we should wait just a little more. No need to cause a panic if this issue will resolve itself.”
But as the first few minutes go by, Air Groove is forced to accept that they are, in fact, stuck in an elevator.
Realising their exact predicament sends a tiny twist of unease into her gut but she dismisses it. Modern elevators are quite safe, with breaks and alarms and fail safes of all kinds. Even if they fall to the bottom floor they are unlikely to come under serious harm
“I must say, out of all the things that could happen today, this is not one I expected.” Likewise, Rudolf appears unaffected, flashing her Vice President a smile and trying to make something humorous out of the situation. “It seems we won’t quite be making that office photoshoot.”
Air Groove nods. “Understood. I’ll notify the camera crew. And Brian.”
But she does no such thing, for staring out of the corner of her phone screen was the no signal icon. In disbelief, she taps open the texting app and types out a brief message.
‘The President and I are stuck in the elevator in the east wing. Please notify Secretary Tazuna as soon as you are able.’
The idea of Narita Brian receiving that text with no prior warning is humorous, but the red ‘failed to send’ appearing under the text bubble is not.
“There’s no signal, can you get anything?”
Rudolf, phone in hand, has a tiny frown as she tapped onto the screen. “I’m afraid not. The insulation must be quite old to be a blocking signal.”
“Not to worry. These elevators have brakes meant to keep us from falling. We should be quite safe.” Even if the Empress had thought the exact same thing just a few moments ago, hearing Rudolf repeat them makes her all the more certain that this situation would resolve itself just fine. If anything, she’s just frustrated that those accursed cameramen are going to have to come by some other day, and a few perfectly good working hours will inevitably be disrupted in favour of watching Rudolf lean against her desk and flash her all too distracting smile.
She thanks the goddesses that out of all the students in the academy, it had been the two of them that have gotten stuck. It makes her shudder to think of Mejiro Dober or Nishino Flower trapped all by themselves.
“Someone has probably been notified already. I imagine they’re calling a maintenance crew to come get us out as we speak. But just in case…” Rudolf presses a thumb against the elevator alarm button. There’s a gentle buzzing noise for about thirty seconds and they both visibly relax as it sounds out.
Dropping down onto one knee, Air Groove reaches into her carry bag and withdraws the binder of documents. “I suppose I should try to get some of these forms filled out.”
Rudolf’s lips curve upwards and she raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Even in an emergency you’re going straight back to work?”
It’s a jest, but Air Groove is still chiding herself for not getting the contracts filled out during the photoshoot. Bizarre silver lining to being stuck in an elevator.
So she lets a smile come to her face as she grabs up her pen and starts mindlessly sifting through the trainer applications on her lap. “President, you know that it would take both Brian and I to haul you out of the office even if it were on fire. This elevator is perfectly serviceable for work. ”
Rudolf chuckles and takes a seat beside her. There’s not much room, but they can sit comfortably side by side. “Then I should do my best to help you now, yes? I’ve always heard that a change of scenery can help one get back into the working mindset.”
“Of course.” Soon enough, the stack of papers is divided into perfect halves and she passes over a spare fountain pen. They fall into a familiar rhythm almost instantly, and Rudolf even writes up a timetable for them on a sticky note, pasted onto the metal wall with a pun scrawled under it.
‘Let’s elevate our efficiency.’ That one gets a smile out of the Empress.
And then the work begins in full. It feels just like another day in the office, with Rudolf quietly scribbling across the pages and occasionally leaning over to inquire about some detail. It's smooth sailing, if a little bit uncomfortable.
At this proximity, Groove can smell the other woman’s deodorant when she breathes in through her nose, a coconut and pineapple scent that she herself had recommended a few months ago. The mixture is all natural and lacks the awful chemical tang that most canned nonsense has. It’s quite pleasing to know that Rudolf has taken a liking to it. It suits her well.
Shaking her head, she redirects her thoughts back to the applications. Ten minutes pass by just like that.
Really, it’s incredible how easily they’re able to recover from what might have otherwise been a concerning development. Although, Groove does not enjoy just how warm it is, nor how her lap makes a poor substitute for a proper desk.
All this could have been avoided if she had simply not accompanied Rudolf to the track.
She disregards that thought immediately. No, she’s thankful she went along with the President’s request. If Air Groove hadn’t been present at the shoot the other woman would be alone in the elevator right now. That thought doesn’t sit right with her at all.
Which reminds me…
“If I may ask, President, why did you ask me to attend?”
The other woman raises her head, the pen in her hand growing still. “Hm? The photoshoot?”
“Yes. It hardly seemed necessary in the moment.”
“Ah. Well…” Rudolf wears a slightly sheepish look as she forms her response. “Many at the academy see me as just a figurehead. I’m aware that much of our promotional material could be mistaken for some sort of pretence. I wished to give a genuine and thoughtful representation of what we strive for at the academy, and I was hoping you would step in if you ever thought me to be simply posturing.”
It’s an incredibly Rudolf answer, and Air Groove huffs. “President. You know that is completely unnecessary.”
“No. You are capable of seeing things that I cannot, particularly when it comes to me.”
Air Groove raises an eyebrow, unable to help herself. “One might think that you simply wished me there for company.”
“Perhaps.” Rudolf’s expression turns the tiniest bit cheeky. “That camera man was… particularly enthusiastic. I was quite relieved when you mentioned our meeting this afternoon.”
The meeting, of course, was perfectly routine and held no major significance. But it was not like the crew needed to know that, and Air Groove had so desperately wished for things to go faster. Not that it’s done much good for us in the long run.
Even if they were out of the sun, whatever outdated insulation had been blocking their phone signal has also clearly allowed the stifling heat to build up inside the elevator and soon she’s scrubbing at her face to keep the sweat out of her eyes.
The summer uniform, with its shorter sleeves and thin socks, helps to keep her from overheating but that defence seems meagre as the temperature continues to rise. Reaching into her carry bag, she fishes out her own water bottle and places it between her knees. The cool kiss of the metal makes her sigh with relief and she takes a modest sip.
“Make sure you are keeping hydrated, President.”
“Yes.” Such a short answer speaks volumes about how the heat is affecting her co-worker. Neither of them speaks for a long while after that. The last of the trainer applications is signed and sealed so Air Groove pulls a few financial documents out from the carry bag and sets them onto an exercise book.
As time crawls on, the effects of the heat worsen. She’s glad to have kept her hair short, because watching Rudolf attempt to wrangle her sweat soaked mane into a hair tie makes her wince.
“I am surprised that we have heard nothing after so long.” Rudolf says what she has been thinking for the last few columns of fund applications.
The pen in Air Groove's hand begins to slip in her fingers and the document sticks to the base of her hand when she tries to readjust her grip. A small huff escapes her nose and she pulls herself free. There is a watery stain in the shape of her fingers left behind - it’s twenty minutes of budgeting all ruined by the heat.
There’s no way she can get any work done like this. Gingerly, she manoeuvres the intact applications back into the folder and zips up her carry bag.
She wipes her brow for what feels like the thousandth time, and the action only temporarily banishes the sweat that threatens to run right back down onto her face. When she takes another drink from her water bottle, it has grown just as warm as the air in the room. Feeling the annoyance grow ever greater, she reaches for her phone and flicks it on, staring at the clock atop the home screen. Her eyes widen.
They have been in this elevator for nearly an hour.
“I..." She nearly growls the words out. "I am going to have a long talk with the director after this.”
Rudolf, wiping the skin underneath her face, sucks in a sharp breath through her nose. “As will I. This is a clear oversight of safety protocols.”
That sentence ends with a grunt as the President climbs to her feet. That’s a good idea, Air Groove thinks, proximity will only make them warmer, make them overheat faster. For a single moment, the prospect of them never being found appears in her mind and dread shoots into her stomach.
It’s so hot. They’ll run out of water eventually and-
No, she can’t think like that. Placing the book she’s been using as a makeshift desk aside, she tries to remember the feeling of cool water against her skin. She’s not trapped in the desert. She’s in an academy elevator and her wits must be sloughing away in the heat because she has never felt such rage for building safety inspectors in her life.
I’m going to take a shower the moment those doors open. And I swear by the three goddesses that I am going to take the stairs for the rest of my life.
Something thuds onto the ground and all thoughts of stairs and elevators completely disappears from her mind when she raises her head.
Rudolf is removing her jacket.
The epaulette and sash have already been placed on the floor beside her, and Air Groove’s eyes follow Rudolf’s fingers as they undo the buckle of her belt and pop each button in a well practiced movement. Then she’s rolling back her arms to manoeuvre them out of the sleeves, casting aside the garment in an uncharacteristic display of carelessness.
She’s never seen Rudolf’s silks without that jacket before. The white dress shirt beneath is soaked through with sweat, but the way it clings to the President’s body only accentuates just how broad her shoulders are. Sighing out her relief, Rudolf continues to undress, undoing her necktie and peeling it away, rubbing at the skin beneath.
Air Groove feels her mouth go dry at the sight of the other woman’s exposed neck.
Seemingly oblivious to what she’s doing, Rudolf rolls up her sleeves and runs her hands along her forearms, before inserting a thumb under the hem of each glove and peeling them away.
With only the skirt and leggings recognizable from her silks, the other woman strikes a completely different image than she usually does. She looks absolutely nothing like the Emperor, tall and strong on the turf and with that spark of ambition in her eyes. No, Rudolf doesn't need her medals to look strong, just those arms and her collar undone and-
What is she thinking? Tearing her eyes away from her co-worker, Air Groove reaches for her documents to distract herself, only to remember that she has already packed them away. The elevator has only grown warmer in the last few minutes, and she feels that warmth flood into her cheeks.
Pressing her water bottle against her face, she risks looking ridiculous to try to cool down. Seriously, how was it warmer here than outside?
Rudolf has sat back down when she looks over again and she wills herself to focus on how the other woman is reaching for her own bottle and not on how she's untucking her shirt.
But the President’s actions do spark an idea. Air Groove reaches for the ribbon of her uniform and loosens it, enough to provide better air flow without losing her modesty.
Defying academic uniform conventions gifts her only a few minutes of relief. Another ten go by, and her phone in her hand cannot distract her from the suffering that is having sweat glands. She is absolutely drenched and her eyeliner is completely ruined. Streaks of red come off on her hand when she wipes her face and she'll look a mess to whoever comes to rescue them from this hell.
She’s not the only one losing the battle against the heat. Rudolf wears a look of displeasure as she upturns her water bottle and there is not even a trickle from the open neck. Air Groove tries to make her brain form a thought as she reaches for her own bottle.
“I still have plenty in mine, President.” It's hard to get the words out, her tongue feels thick and they all sound strange, like she’s hearing herself from far away. “Would you like some?”
“Please.” For a moment, Rudolf’s composure breaks and the relieved smile on her face makes Air Groove’s heart skip a beat. “I would be forever grateful.”
“Don’t be silly.” Mustering up her strength, she prepares to take the single step across the dusty carpet. She just has to stand on legs which wobble like she’s run the Oaks over and over.
Gravity grows stronger as she sinks down onto one knee, and she has to take a few breaths before offering out the bottle. “Here.”
“Thank you, truly.” Their fingers brush as Rudolf reaches out to take it, and Air Groove swears she can see electricity arcing across their skin. Struggling to stand again, she cannot keep from watching the parting of the other woman’s lips and the bob of her Adam’s apple as she greedily swallows.
As though somehow detecting the more traitorous of her thoughts, the President's ears twitch upwards.
The bottle lowers from her mouth and Air Groove feels her knees grow weak when Rudolf looks at her. If she tries to stand she might well collapse into the other woman's embrace.
No. Stupid. She can't be thinking these things. She needs to back away before she can do something idiotic and before Rudolf does something charming.
“You really deserve to be…” Her ears shoot straight upright when Rudolf begins to speak. The President clears her throat and wipes her lips before continuing.
“A watered for that.”
They both go silent.
“....What?” Air Groove almost struggles to get the one word out.
“A-watered. Watered. Awarded.”
“Oh.”
It’s a pun. Symboli Rudolf has made a pun. Her ears twitch upwards and anticipation shines in her eyes as she waits for Air Groove to understand the joke.
Their faces are so close now, and the Empress can see every one of the President’s teeth when she begins to chuckle. “Ha. Hahaha….”
Rudolf’s ears wiggle as she loses herself to laughter, high pitched and filled with so much warmth that Air Groove cannot help but join in. Her arms go limp by her side, the water bottle on the floor forgotten as they simply stare at each other, blinking the sweat out of their eyes.
She looks like such a dork. The President is a huge dork. A dork with lovely broad soldiers and a body made entirely of solid muscle, glowing with a warmth that might burn her if she moves any closer.
The President looks… so incredibly hot.
That is the last coherent thought that forms in her mind before their lips meet.
Rudolf goes completely still but the first taste of her has Air Groove melting. All thoughts of their situation and of the way her uniform is stuck to her disappear as she falls ever further. She can feel the fluttering of eyelashes against her lids before a hand comes up to rest on the sweat soaked side of her neck and she is tugged further into the kiss.
When she pulls away, after seconds or minutes, Rudolf’s lips curl into a dopey smile.
She's so cute. Her President has such soft eyes and gentle hands that move to grip Air Groove’s waist as she shifts herself closer. She fits perfectly onto the other woman’s lap, pressing their bodies flush together as she continues to take in the sight of Rudolf’s face.
Strong. Handsome. Pretty.
Each thought makes her heart swell, makes the stupid smile forming on her own face grow even wider.
It’s not long before they’re kissing again. Rudolf is more responsive this time, gently pressing back, letting Air Groove set the pace but meeting her rhythm with equal intensity. Their faces rub against one another, and Air Groove gets a single taste of salt on her skin before bringing up both hands to hold the other woman still.
Soon, Air Groove is kissing every part of her face. Her ears and eyes and nose and cheeks and brow, leaving faint red marks in the shape of her lips at each and every spot.
So pretty.
“So pretty.”
So pretty.
“So pretty.”
She’s light headed now, and when Rudolf breaks the kiss to shift their positions Air Groove nearly falls out of her lap. But a hand slides up to grip her shoulder blade, leaving a tingling across her lower back that makes her lean forward on instinct and rest her head against Rudolf’s shoulder.
“I’ve got you.” Rudolf whispers into her ear, so close that hot breath makes them twitch.
Held against Rudolf’s body, Air Groove feels the world grow warmer, alarmingly so. She’ll probably be a molten puddle on the floor in a few minutes, so she needs to recover her dignity. Straightening her back, she shifts her hands onto the other woman’s shoulders and looks her dead in the eye.
In less than a second, her composure breaks and another stupid smile appears on her face. “My Emperor.”
Magenta eyes twinkle as Rudolf meets her gaze, looking perfectly put together. “My Empress.”
She’s had the idea that they might refer to each other this way for years, but her head still spins when a hand takes her own and Rudolf brings it up to her lips.
How is she still so composed? It's infuriating. Her heart feels like it might explode out from her ribcage. But before that happens she needs to let the other woman know just how she feels right now.
The words don't come to her, so she simply takes Rudolf’s hand and places it over her breastbone. The words do not come to her but the rapid beating against her skin says enough. Again, Rudolf’s eyes widen, but her surprise is replaced by yet another smile and the hand trails up to take Air Groove’s cheek.
It doesn't matter. You'll be just as senseless as I in a moment.
Out of sheer impulse, the Empress reaches up and rips it away from her face, intertwining their fingers even as she pins them to the ground. Rudolf groans when their lips meet for the third time.
You’re such a fool. Trying to protect me from the camera flashes like I can’t handle it myself.
And then the fourth.
I am the Empress, I don’t need you to protect me.
And then the fifth.
But I very much like that you want to.
Both of them are breathing hard now, and she pulls away to admire her handiwork.
Red in the face, Rudolf pants like a feral animal, and there’s a gleam in her eye that tells Air Groove she is preparing to retaliate. But that is not what is capturing her attention right now.
A bead of sweat runs down between Rudolf’s eyebrows and she follows it with her eyes as it rolls right onto the tip of her nose.
Air Groove leans forward and, ever so slowly, lets her tongue slip out from between her lips and swipe the droplet away. The salt on the other woman’s skin lights up parts of her brain that have never existed until now and the way Rudolf trembles only makes the heat grow stronger.
Fingers find her neck and then they’re kissing again, the taste of sweat mixing with the taste of mouth as their tongues dance against one another. Every last pretence of decorum disappears as they both remember they have hands that can run along each other’s arms and lips that can crash together again and again.
Eventually, Rudolf pulls her face away, sucking in a deep breath, her eyes clouded over as she shifts her Vice President the tiniest bit back across her legs in a clear signal to stop. The Empress cannot stop herself from whining in protest, and Rudolf brushes away the hair stuck to her brow so that she can lean forward to touch it with her own.
The feel of her skin makes her shiver. They both just breathe for a little while.
It’s so hot. It must be a thousand degrees, because it feels like every one of her nerve endings have been completely fried. Maybe that’s it. Maybe her whole body is shutting down piece by piece and they really won’t make it out the elevator alive. But that doesn’t matter to her right now. So long as she still has lips she can keep kissing and her brain is far too fuzzy to want anything other than that. It would be okay to die here, to melt into a puddle in her President’s arms.
It's so hot, she wants to take every single piece of clothing off. Shifting in place, Air Groove finds her gaze trailing downward from Rudolf’s face.
“Your shirt.” Is the first set of coherent words that come to her mind as she reaches out. “It must be hot.”
“It’s made from graphene.” The Emperor offers no resistance, and her eyes glimmer with excitement and she watches her own shirt buttons being popped open. “It diffuses body heat incredibly well. It was created as part of a new initiative to make racewear more adaptable to...”
Peeling aside the flap, Air Groove watches the way Rudolf's tail thumps against the floor as she ghosts her lips over the other woman's voice box, feeling it murmur under the skin as she continues to speak.
“... and it’s quite an innovation i-in the-” There's a stutter when Air Groove’s teeth find a sensitive spot on her neck and the Empress advances on that point of weakness. "A-athletic de-ah!"
The exposed skin below the President’s collarbone is kissed and kissed until tiny red marks dot every inch. The world grows fuzzier and fuzzier but the dim light of the elevator is unnecessary for her to memorise every bump and line and taste. Her fingers go where her lips cannot, sliding the shirt across Rudolf's shoulders as far as the sleeves will allow.
Eventually it becomes far too warm to hold herself upright and Air Groove falls forward, her nose coming to rest between the other woman’s neck and shoulder. The smell of pineapples is so much stronger up close.
“Rudolf…” She can barely whisper the name, can barely hear her own be spoken in return.
In the moment of quiet that comes after, she can feel the other woman's chest rise and fall with her breathing,
Her eyes slowly sink down to trace the exposed strip of skin where Rudolf’s leggings do not quite reach the hem of her skirt. Another thought, far more dangerous than all the rest, appears in the final trace remnants of her brain.
Slowly, reverently, she reaches out a hand to trace the pale thigh, revelling in the way the President shudders beneath her touch. It's so soft. She trails her fingers upwards until-
The elevator lurches and this time, Air Groove cannot keep herself from tumbling onto her back. Her stomach drops as the metal box she's been trapped in for the better part of two hours begins to shoot upwards at alarming speed.
Being shocked by the impact brings her back to reality and the first two things that register in her mind are that her uniform has fused to her like a second skin and that she has about eight seconds before the doors open to the fifth floor. Standing to her feet, she draws in a single panicked breath and begins pulling her socks up.
Right. She is Air Groove. An Uma Musume with a functioning mind and four functioning limbs, perfectly capable of acting like a normal person. Her fingers shake as she straightens the ribbon across the front of her chest and adjusts her skirt.
Reaching for her bag, she can’t help but let out a hiss when the stray papers atop it begin sticking to her hand again. Half of them will need reprinting, not to mention that she’s wasted Goddesses-know how much time on kissing her co-worker instead of doing the paperwork she was supposed to complete two hours ago.
Kissing my- ?
She whirls around. “Rudo- President?”
Across from her, Rudolf has made zero effort to even stand. The Seven Crowned Emperor of Japan sits with a dazed look on her face, looking to all the world like she’s been hypnotised. Her shirt is undone, jacket crumpled in the corner and a fountain pen lies unattended near her fingers.
“Rudolf!” Air Groove calls out again, only to receive an equally none response. Stepping back over to her fallen comrade, the Empress drops to her knees and begins to button up the other woman’s shirt. It's almost see-through at this point, and she can feel her mind scrambling to avoid processing that stimulus.
Rudolf’s eyes, glassy and unfocused, flick down to watch the lower half of her face, and her gaze is so strong that Air Groove can feel her lips tingling. Her tongue darts out across them, trying to find some residual taste of the President’s mouth. When Rudolf's eyes flit down even further, she feels something flip in her brain.
Oh, bugger it all.
She hooks her arms back around Rudolf's shoulder and leans back in to-
A single sharp ding is the only warning she has before the doors open.
With her fingers still kneaded into Rudolf's sweaty shirt, Air Groove is thrown yet again from her stupor by the blinding lights of the hallway. Unable to think of any other idea, she grabs up Rudolf's jacket and throws it over the Emperor's face.
Whirling around, she locks eyes with the lone figure waiting in the entryway. Narita Brian stands alone in the hallway, and her bored expression does not change much as she lays eyes on the two of them.
"Oh. Hey."
“B-Brian?!” Air Groove feels the urge to cover herself as well, despite being fully clothed. “W-what are you doing here?”
Chewing on the stem in her mouth, the shadow roll monster stares in absolute silence for about five seconds before she shrugs her shoulders. “I was just gonna go for a na- I mean, patrol.”
“What?” The Empress feels her eyes twitch. “What about the maintenance crew?”
Brian cocks her head to the side like an animal looking at something it doesn’t understand. “What?”
“Didn’t the alarm go off? We’ve been stuck in here for hours!”
She’s reminded, as she gestures to the elevator around them, that the door is now open and nothing is keeping her from springing out into the hallway.
Brian takes a single step back as she does so, looking her up and down with eyes that grow wide. "I- I just pressed the button. I didn’t realise you were… uh… "
Her eyes move back to inside of the elevator and she shuffles awkwardly in place. "...having a meeting.”
Air Groove doesn't brother processing the implications regarding any maintenance crews because the sensation of standing out in the hallways is a million times greater than anything she has ever felt. The air conditioning of the administrative building is clearly a boon from the goddesses and she almost falls to her knees out of sheer relief.
Moving feels wrong, probably because she is absolutely disgusting right now, but at least she can stretch her arms out without smacking her hands into metal walls.
Shower. I need a shower.
“Good afternoon, Brian."
She pauses in place when Symboli Rudolf emerges from the elevator behind her, room key in hand. Slinging her jacket over her shoulders, the President gives a nod to her other Vice, who is now staring slack jawed at her neck.
Air Groove cannot help but stare too. Her memory of the elevator has already become so hazy but the taste of salt is still in her mouth and her body grows warm as she watches the target of her frenzy step into the light.
Seemingly recovered from whatever spell had been cast on them inside the elevator, Rudolf looks every bit the Emperor despite the dozens of red marks covering her face and the fact that her bra is visible through her dress shirt.
"Apologies for our absence. Perhaps we could reconvene after a quick shower.”
“Yep.” Brian does not look like she has heard any of those sentences, and her eyes only trail downward. “Okay.”
And with that, Rudolf turns and takes the aforementioned Vice President by the hand. Air Groove offers no resistance as she is lead down the corridor.
“Please ensure that Air Groove’s belongings are returned to her room.”
After all, the shower in the Presidential suite is probably large enough for both of them.
…
Stepping inside the elevator, Narita Brian taps the ground floor button without a second thought. She chews on her stem some more as the doors close and she begins to descend.
There are absolutely no issues on the trip down.
Slinging Air Groove’s bag over one shoulder, she grumbles about how much work she has to do everyday, before she steps out into the corridor and kicks open the fire escape.
The hell were they doing in there? How did they take off that much clothing in twenty seconds?