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Through the hazy citrus steam rising as a cloying cloud around them, Rumi could barely register Mira's silhouette in the dimly lit bathhouse. Rumi tensed beneath her damp towel, breaths unsteady as she walked closer to the heated water.
Under the glow of sparse string lights, Mira loomed over the rim of the pool, ringing her long, wet hair out after a brisk shower. Dew spattered her cheeks, the smooth skin of her chest glistening with sweat as she peered up at Rumi, a warmth in her eyes.
Rumi's breath quietly hitched. The faded hot pink radiance of Mira's hair was especially evident in these conditions. As Mira came into focus, Rumi clung to the textured fabric around her, a reprieve from the pulsating intensity of her appearance. An intensity that Rumi was sure only she felt. A feeling that had to be kept secret. Like so many before.
Wordlessly, Mira disappeared into the fog for a moment to discard her own towel, returning to sink into the hot water completely bare. She let out a sigh of contentment as Rumi stayed frozen in her spot. Mira had a body carved from marble; toned and soft, ribbed with beautiful stretch marks. As the displaced water calmed around her, flower petals spilled over the edge of the tub.
After several quiet moments, Mira turned her slender eyes up at Rumi once more.
"You're so modest. It's just the bathhouse."
Rumi tried not to focus on the way little droplets of water dripped from Mira's cat eyelashes, or on the way her lips grew gradually more red under the heat. She trained her eyes on the tile floor, the anxiety growing as a tightness in her chest, saying nothing.
Mira huffed, a playful edge to her exasperation.
"Why are you so scared of me seeing you naked?"
This caused Rumi to glare at her, embarrassed.
"That's not- You know why I-" Rumi tried, but Mira only chuckled with amusement.
"Relax," Mira chided, and then her tone softened, "Just..."
And she rose from the pool, the water cascading down her body in a rush. Before Rumi could even realize Mira was moving towards her, she stood a breath away.
"This is practice. Like we talked about, remember? It's just you and me here."
Rumi nodded, her eyes fixed on Mira's.
"Look, you're way too hot to not feel comfortable in the world and in your body. Take this first step with me, yeah?" Mira held her hand out.
Without thinking, Rumi reached for it. And she touched her, a crackling in her fingertips.
And her towel dropped, just to her waist.
"Damn, girl!" Mira said it on impulse, then bit her lip.
Rumi blushed intensely. Were it a bit brighter, Mira would definitely have noticed her bashfulness. Thank darkness. At least this time.
Worries still filled Rumi's mind like a swarm of ever growing bees. Her greatest insecurities were being spotlighted right now, in front of one of the two people she held dearest. One who maybe didn't hold her as dear. One who now had the opportunity to judge the size of her pores, the shape of her breasts, the distribution of her weight, and the patterns. The patterns.
"Oh my God," Mira huffed, "This is what you've been hiding under all those clothes? Shut up, you're beautiful."
Rumi blinked in surprise, "What..?"
Mira wouldn't repeat herself. Instead, she reached towards Rumi, causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end as she gently pulled the towel off her hips. For a moment Rumi could swear her cover would be blown when their eyes met, the sparkle of adoration too overpowering to hide, but Mira simply walked away to discard that towel as well. And when she returned she settled straight into the water again, gesturing Rumi over.
Rumi obeyed the silent order she was given, slowly lowering in herself. The heat was delightful. It sent a shiver of warmth up her spine, and Mira promptly smirked at her.
"See? It's nice. People who make efforts to feel comfortable in their bodies get to feel nice things. I'm proud of you."
Rumi couldn't help but smile under the praise.
The praise. The way her eyes were drawn to Mira like a magnet. Same thing.
Rumi felt the pangs of guilt within her heart. This was bad. She had to stop romanticizing Mira. She had to exist within the bounds of their friendship. A good friendship. A lucky friendship. A friendship where she was fiercely loved and protected by a girl whose favor wasn't given to just anyone. A friendship where she felt the best things, that perhaps she didn't deserve to feel.
A friendship where Mira's soft, slumbering breaths wisped over her cheek on beds full of Zoey's plushies in the darkness of night, illuminated by the TV. Where she could walk in the park beside her on beautiful days, the sky bathing them in a golden blanket, and she could see Mira beam that rare big smile at her, eyes like iced tea in the sun. Where...
Crap. Stop romanticizing.
At least Mira wasn't onto her yet. At least now, sitting here in this pool, she was on the very opposite side. At least through sheets of steam, perhaps Mira couldn't tell how the sight of her made Rumi's heart go thump-thump. And maybe made other parts of her go thump-thump...
At least...until.
"Wait a second. You forgot to detangle your hair again, didn't you? I keep telling you girl, it'll get so matted if you keep doing that. Is this why you have it in a braid all the time?"
Mira crosses the tub, crosses the threshold between them. And suddenly, bare naked, citrus smelling, and dripping wet Mira is looming in front of bare naked, citrus smelling, and dripping wet Rumi. And Mira's slender eyes focus in on Rumi's tresses, gently using her fingers to tease the mats apart from the ends. And it's caring, doting. And through the heat, Rumi's face warms even more, because she can feel Mira's skin against her knees, and then she can feel it against her thighs as Mira slowly pushes through to get closer.
But Rumi isn't tense this time. In fact, she's putty in Mira's soft hands. And the way Mira works against her hair, quietly humming, reverberates through her body as tendrils of gentle pleasure.
"You'll tell me if I'm hurting you, right?" Mira insisted, and Rumi could only nod, her voice lost to sapphic panic.
"Good girl," Mira praised, and little did Rumi know, Mira took a special sort of satisfaction in seeing Rumi avert her eyes at this.
Why would Mira say that? Who says things like that when you're both completely naked, completely alone, in a pool of hot water, pressed close together? Rumi thought she might have a heart attack.
Mira leaned closer as her fingers brushed through Rumi's hair, and her hands grazed Rumi's collarbone. Rumi shivered in the heat.
"You know," Mira started, "I... I don't usually get all sappy. So don't expect me to repeat that I said this to you later. But I really, really care about you. I'm...really glad you're in my life. You know that?"
Rumi stared at Mira, eyes like saucers, "You're going soft on me now? Who are you and what have you done with my Mira?"
Mira rolled her eyes, "Fuck you. I'm trying to be sentimental!"
Rumi laughed, "Sorry, sorry."
Mira paused at Rumi's giggles. Her attention was rapt through the cheerful sound, the water lapping between them. Her smile grew slowly, until Rumi stopped.
"What?" Rumi asked, suddenly self conscious.
"Nothing," Mira returned to Rumi's hair.
Rumi didn't press the issue. She didn't want to come off as insecure. Even though she was insecure. She didn't want Mira to know that. Even if Mira already knew that. Even if that was the entire purpose for Mira encouraging her to come to the bathhouse in the first place.
Under her breath, Mira spoke, "Your hair is so pretty, babe. You should take better care of it."
Rumi couldn't focus on the snide remark. All she heard, all she could hear echoing in her mind, was "babe".
Babe. Babe. Babe.
No. No. No. Stop romanticizing.
"Please don't call me that..." Rumi whispered.
Mira quirked an eyebrow, moving back a little. Rumi instantly missed the pressure.
"What, 'babe'? I call you that all the time. You've had a problem with it?"
"No. I mean- yes?"
"Oh. Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?"
"No. Yes. No. I mean, it just. Makes me feel weird."
"Makes you...feel weird?"
"Yeah..."
Mira said nothing at first. She watched as Rumi's breath quickened, as she hid averted dark eyes behind her tamed, violet hair.
"Why would that make you feel weird but not uncomfortable..?" Mira ventured.
"..."
Rumi didn't respond. She couldn't respond. She couldn't say it's because it filled her with butterflies. She couldn't say it's because Mira filled her with butterflies. With butterflies, with warmth, with saccharine joy, with apprehension, with laughter, with lust...
Mira rolled her eyes, snapping Rumi out of her thoughts.
"You're so impossible," Mira sighed wistfully.
"What? Me? Why?" Rumi tensed.
"I have to spell it out for you, don't I?"
Rumi furrowed her brows. Had she done something wrong? Had she unintentionally offended her? This could be very bad. Mira was rough around the edges, quick to anger. Rumi did everything in her power to stay in her good graces, despite the fact that the worst anger that had ever been directed at her was Mira's mild annoyance when Rumi hadn't realized they were friends after spending most days together years before. But Rumi didn't want to find out what that wrath could look like. Rumi was desperate to indulge in Mira's warmth; the gilded, honeyed version of her that existed mainly in private quarters and towards fans. She couldn't ruin that.
"Rumi."
"Hm?"
"I... Can I come closer?"
"Of course."
And Mira did. Closer, very close. So close their breasts pressed together. So close Mira's hands steadied her by holding onto Rumi's thighs under the water.
Crap. Crap. Crap. Rumi wasn't going to be able to hide it now. Hide her unadulterated longing. Her bashfulness.
Mira was so close. Mira was touching her in places no one had ever had the opportunity to touch her before, wrapped behind layers of clothes and insecurity. Places where iridescent patterns existed. Places that made her whole body buzz.
"Maybe it's not a good idea for you to touch me there..." Rumi began, "It's not that I'm not okay with it! I am! I just...that's a...I've never been..."
"You want me to move away? I will. If you want me to."
"I..."
"Or."
"Or?"
"I'll move closer again. If you want me to."
"...how could you be closer?"
"I'll show you. Only if you want me to. Do you?"
"I- Well, I do, but I mean, that's- it's just that it'll make me-"
"Do you? Yes or no?"
"...yes. Very yes," Rumi admitted.
And the final card of the house collapsed.
Mira breathed against Rumi's collarbone, leaving a small, reverent kiss there as she held steady to her thighs. Rumi whimpered.
"God. Mira, do you realize what you're doing..?"
"I do," Mira whispered against her ear, "I'm trying to show you that I'm into you, too. But you're being useless about it."
Rumi blinked rapidly.
"...what?"
Mira blushed, "Would you like me to keep going?"
Rumi heard a delightful white noise in her ears. Like a ringing after a blissful shockwave.
It occurred to her all at once. She didn't have to stop romanticizing her. Mira wanted to be romanticized by her. Maybe also she didn't have to hide her adoration, her love, her longing...
Rumi nodded, "Yes. Please keep going."
Mira beamed at this. She kissed from Rumi's collarbone down her chest bit by bit, the petal softness of her lips causing Rumi to huff and squirm. At last, Mira looked up to gaze into Rumi's eyes, her fingers holding Rumi's chin in place.
"Kiss me," Mira commanded.
And who was Rumi to deny her best friend that?
So Rumi did. And she felt like dough being plunged into hot oil. All pretense and inhibition fell away the moment their lips connected. Their kiss was ravenous, urgent. The culmination of months and years of thinly veiled mutual longing. Rumi's arms wrapped around Mira's neck, and Mira's arms wrapped around Rumi's waist, pulling her as close as physically possible.
The steam danced around them as tongues were added to the mix. It was hot, so hot, and Rumi's skin felt alight.
It would only grow to feel much more alight when Mira's hand looped gradually from behind Rumi back around to her stomach. And then lower, lower, lower...
"Mmh!" Rumi arched into Mira's hand between her thighs, absolutely aflutter.
It was music to Mira's ears. And she could feel the hot slickness of Rumi even underwater. Mira's touch was gentle at first, slowly growing more firm as she glided her fingers back and forth, back and forth...
And then Mira began to draw little circles against Rumi, sipping on her lips, drinking in the sound of her barely contained moans.
Rumi broke away from Mira's lips briefly to whine, "My God, don't stop! Please don't stop!"
Mira continued her rhythm, using the palm of her hand now, a molten sentimentality in her eyes as she spoke to Rumi in a sultry voice.
"You don't want me to stop?"
Rumi shook her head.
"It feels good, doesn't it?"
Rumi nodded, driven crazy over and over by each subsequent lightning bolt of pleasure.
"Aw, you're being such a good, good girl for me."
Rumi whimpered again. And then she moaned. And she couldn't stop moaning. The crest rose, the height grew nearer and nearer. She was so embarrassed at how close it felt already. But as Mira's hand continued to work against her, she couldn't help it.
Mira pressed two fingers against Rumi's entrance, a question in her eyes. Rumi nodded enthusiastically.
And Mira slid inside her with ease, the groan that escaped Rumi sounding almost guttural.
"Oh my God, oh my God!" Rumi could barely get the words out.
Mira could feel Rumi clenching around her fingers as she went in and out, the pride in her chest bursting at the seams.
Mira's voice was honeyed as she said, "I know, I know. You're doing so well."
Rumi could barely take it. It was so intense. Almost too intense. She was convinced the steam was coming from her body and not the water at this point. She was convinced one more stroke, one more glide, one more bit of pressure from the palm against her most sensitive parts would cause her to overflow.
"Oh baby, you're getting close, aren't you?" Mira chuckled, an amusement that was equal parts adoring filling her heart.
"Mm...hmm..." Rumi mumbled, her eyes closed, chasing that flow, chasing that height.
Mira began to pump into Rumi a little faster.
"Agh!"
"Can you look at me, princess?"
Rumi could hardly focus. Especially not with the speed against her, the perfect pressure, the perfect rhythm. Still, she tried to obey, not quite willing her eyes to remain on Mira.
"Look at me, good girl, or I'll stop."
Rumi whined, and her eyes locked with Mira's, increasingly aware of the way Mira's breasts bobbed in the water between pumps, the look of passionate intensity and hunger in her eyes.
"I- Hghhh! I-"
"Oh, you're such a sweet girl! Are you about to cum, baby? You don't have to hold on for me. You're allowed to let go."
And let go Rumi did. Convulsing and writhing and moaning louder and louder. Muffled only by a final warm kiss—one Mira couldn't help but smile into as her hand felt the spurting of a fluid much more intoxicating than hot pool water against her.
And even when the long held crest fell, Rumi came down from the high with starry, darkened vision, a buzz emanating from every iridescent pore as she blinked back into focus from the haze of ecstasy.
Rumi jolted as Mira gently retracted her fingers. She blinked at her, utterly encapsulated. This couldn't be real. This had to be a dream. The very best dream of her entire life that she hoped she would never, ever wake up from. The fulfillment of some of her heart's deepest, most rosey desires. And if it was really real..? What was a useless sapphic to do?
Mira went in to kiss Rumi once more. Not urgent this time, but gentle. Doting. Loving.
"I'm sorry I'm so bad at saying things. It comes more naturally for me to just show you..." Mira whispered, their foreheads pressed together.
"Show me! Show me then! Show me all the time!” Rumi insisted.
Mira laughed. And Rumi smiled at her. And then the two embraced, nestling into one another.
And they each marveled at the fact that their best friend in the entire world could feel the exact same way.
"...I love you, babe."
"I love you so much, too, Mira..."
And with equally starry eyes, Mira leaned over the rim of the pool for a water bottle, removing the cap and then reverently bringing the cool, crisp liquid to Rumi's lips as her rapid pants receded. Maybe Rumi still needed some convincing, but Mira was certain—the sun would collapse in the sky and the Honmoon could crumble into eternity before she ever stopped treasuring Rumi.