Work Text:
"Keep your hands here, yeah?" Rui instructs from her knees, curling her fingers over Wumuti's at the edge of the bench.
Wumuti looks down, full bottom lip between her teeth, and nods, eyes dark. They're trying on styling for the comeback, and this pair of pants has leather lacing it together, all the way up the outsides and then over cutouts at the front of her thighs. Rui had taken one look at her leaving the dressing room and pushed her right back in, a herding authority until Wumuti was taken out at the knees by the seat behind her, giggling. She watches Rui's fingers dance lightly over the thick fabric, tracing the laces themselves up her calves. Reverence drips from her fingers, seeping into Wumuti's body despite the light pressure.
Today is all about clothes, so Wumuti skips past Rui's everyday makeup and hair, as cute as it is tucked behind her ear, and scans her girlfriend's outfit. The cropped tank is a familiar style: one that hugs the broad shape of her chest and is cut to show off her waist and lower ribs. Wumuti is eyeing the rips in her jeans when Rui draws her attention back by feathering touch along her own loose waistband, threatening to dip under. Grinning, she tosses her hair and pulls herself closer by grabbing Muti's hips. Wumuti complies with the unstated demand, spreading her legs to let Rui scoot in tight.
Slowly, firmly, Rui laces her fingers in the gaps left between the ties on both thighs and pushes in, eight hot points of contact. It's honestly not that close to her groin, but the image Rui makes is so sensual that right now, it doesn't even matter. Given the lack of long nails for practicality's sake, her kneading lacks the prickle of cat claws, but Muti still feels her breath go shallow. There's something about the position, the situation, the focus with which Rui is touching her… Wumuti feels like she can identify every muscle in her quads under Rui's careful fingers.
Pushing further, Rui's brow furrows as her fingertips climb under the fabric. Wumuti flushes before she says anything, knowing what she's looking for— hyper-aware of what she's not finding.
"Are you… wearing…"
Wumuti saves them both from wherever that sentence was going by saying, simply, "Panties."
As if anything about that is simple. Not briefs, like she sometimes prefers under certain pairs of shorts; not fancy, daring lingerie for special occasions. Just simple, everyday, ordinary panties. To work.
She'd barely avoided backing out at the last second this morning, so tempted to corral the other members into the van and rush back to her dresser for something more… typical. If "typical" had been "comfortable" lately, she might have. As is, the barely-there sensation of her underwear somehow feels like a hug, reassurance, and encouragement all at once.
No big deal.
Pushing through the insecurity was worth it, though, for the way Rui's nails dig into her thighs as she sucks in a breath. Muti dares to peek at her face and has to look away immediately, her own cheeks burning at Rui's closed eyes and bitten lip. Her low groan is the only warning Wumuti gets before Rui is shoving forward, reaching as high up as she can through the front of her pants. Her fingers are long enough to just reach the bottom hem, and she folds in half as if losing all strength, resting her head on Wumuti's knee.
Breath hot, Rui whispers, "Baobei…" as she lets the fingertips of one hand rub back and forth at the very top of her thigh. Her obsession with being skin-to-skin with Wumuti has only deepened over the last few months, and she seems lost in the softness right now.
"They're red," Wumuti whispers back, savoring the buzz growing under her skin. It's spreading up from her hips and out to her fingertips, where she's clutching the bench tightly so she doesn't tangle her fingers in Rui's hair instead. The fact that they're touching so intimately while both fully dressed is getting to her bad, and if Rui keeps it up much longer there's going to be a problem to deal with that she doesn't want to have to explain.
Weakly, trying not to smile, Wumuti protests, "I don't want to get these dirty," knuckles going white, but trails off as Rui locks eyes with her and deliberately tips her grip inward.
"You should have thought about that before dressing up with your thighs visible for all the world to see, hm? This gap goes up so high, pretty girl," she says, reaching for the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She leans even closer, making her next command yet more impossible to follow, and purrs, "Don't make a mess. I can't clean you up until later." The innuendo was clear before Rui licks her lips, but Wumuti feels her stomach twist at the peek of her tongue anyway.
She tips her head back to avoid the visual of Rui's seduction, though she can't get away from the feeling of hands between her legs. She gasps when Rui curls her fingers and pulls, spreading Muti's knees wider and digging into the muscle. There's no way Rui didn't see her cock kick, and her little chuckle confirms it.
Without warning, Rui pulls her hands free and wraps them around Muti's ass to yank her to the edge of the bench. Before she can even respond, Rui's face is buried between her thighs, rubbing her cheek in indulgent sweeps against the leathery half-skirt. Muti can feel herself filling out, pressing against those brand new panties, with every passing second. One of her hands jumps without her permission, clinging to Rui's hair as if to gain some control of the situation. From her throne on the floor, Rui doesn't complain; instead, she links her fingers between those of the hand Wumuti still has on the bench to hold it in place. Her free hand dips under the bottom hem of the pants, stroking her calf under the lacing as she nuzzles her cheekbone along Muti's length.
Somewhere near the intersection of endeared, aroused, and exasperated, all Wumuti can say is her girlfriend's name. Not even sure what she's asking for, she pets through her hair, digging in a little with her nails the way Rui likes. She keeps her hips still with effort, unsure if she's imagining the heat of Rui's breath through the thick fabric.
Pressing up into the touch, Rui's eyes half-close in contentment, humming tunelessly as a smile spreads across her face. Fond, Wumuti rakes her nails to the back of her head and tugs on a lock, then teases, "You're so easy to distract, aren't you. All it takes is a hand through your hair and you've completely forgotten about my thighs, mm?"
Rui pouts, "Well fine, if you don't want my attention…" and rises gracefully to her feet, patting Wumuti's thighs pointedly in the process. She leans over to fix the lacing, setting right the twisted bits and making the tension even. It puts her at eye level, and Wumuti leans forward to steal a kiss, holding her jaw in position to linger as their lips part. "Later," she promises, and Rui nips playfully at her lower lip.
Making no attempt to hide the way she's rubbing her thighs together, Rui echoes the statement and backs up a step. Wumuti can't help the fond smile as she looks up, then stands and scoops her into a spinning hug in one motion, savoring the bare skin of her waist. Leaving a peck on her nose, Muti giggles and slips out of the room, closing the door behind her. Impatient Rui always suffers more when she starts these games.
She swings by the restroom before returning to their stylist to subtly tuck her erection towards her hip and enjoy the fabric of her panties against her knuckles for a moment. As much as she's looking forward to properly showing them to Rui, teasing her all day is going to be even better.