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Sciel stared at Lune. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Lune hadn’t actually noticed the staring; for all of Lune’s attentiveness, when she focused on her research, all other thoughts fell away. It was something Sciel admired, when she had it in her to admire anything at all.
Sciel admired Lune, too. Admired her drive, her ambition, admired and hated the duty that tied her to her parents’ research into pictos. Admired the pictos engraved on her cheek, like a flaking, black tear. Admired her dark eyes and dark hair and the delicate way she carried herself—her narrow wrists and long, delicate fingers, the intensity as she worked on their Expedition journal.
She just couldn’t stop thinking about the fight with Sirène. Sciel had been in almost too much pain to see Lune walk fearlessly into the axon’s hand. Almost—but not enough to miss the enraptured look in Lune’s eyes, the fascinated glow to her expression.
Something about that adventure was making Sciel’s skin itch. The distant echoing of the music had been a lot to deal with, especially after the relative silence of the fight against Visages a few days earlier. Sciel had been no better off than anyone else, but Lune had been particularly taken by it. How many times had Sciel caught Lune swaying in midair, distant look on her face? Sciel itched to catch her, pull her down to earth, give her something to ground her. Sciel wanted to pin Lune in place, to keep her present, to break that careful composure.
Maelle was asleep with Esquie; he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Verso, last Sciel saw him, was wrapped up in an argument with Monoco, a rare happy gleam in his pale eyes. The boys would take care of each other, Esquie would take care of Maelle, which left only one member of their group in need of company.
“Lune,” Sciel murmured, before she could allow herself to back out. There was a heat under her skin and the memory of Lune in battle only stoked it.
Lune’s head tilted toward Sciel, though her eyes and fingers didn’t leave the Expedition journal. It was another moment for her to turn away from it. “Sciel?”
“When was the last time you relaxed?” Sciel asked, still quiet. She wiggled her fingers at Lune. “Really relaxed.”
The answering smile was amused. Lune allowed the pictos to fade away. “There are more ways than just sex to relax, you know. I felt very relaxed last night, after we finished with Sirène.”
“I noticed,” Sciel said with her most alluring of smiles, but Lune wasn’t looking at her anymore. Gone, between one blink and the next.
“Who did you see?” Lune asked. “When Sirène. . .”
Sciel found a familiar expression on Lune’s face—that same grief she wore the first time Sciel and her had the night to themselves, the same grief that followed Maelle’s teary explanation of what happened on the Stone Wave Cliffs.
“Just my husband,” Sciel lied, thinking of the little bundle in her husband’s arms. She watched Lune accept the lie for truth.
“I saw my parents,” Lune confessed, “and I. . . I didn’t realize I had forgotten so much of their faces. The image I have of them in my head—it’s a picture from when I was young, and they weren’t so old.”
“I understand.” Sciel took the chance to move across to Lune’s log and lean into her. Lune didn’t react to the words or motion at all; Sciel wondered if she even heard them, trapped in her own memories from yesterday. Sciel hoped Lune could feel Sciel’s shoulder pressed against Lune’s own. She hoped the warmth would guide her back to the present.
“I’m growing into my mother’s face,” Lune continued, reaching up with those slender fingers to touch the pictos on her cheek. “I hadn’t realized that I looked so much like her. I’d always thought I’d take more after my father; I’ve always been more like him, personality-wise. But looks—if I had another ten years, maybe, then. . . I can’t help but wonder if she would have approved, seeing me now. I mean, I know she would have, she trained me to be an expeditioner, but—Sorry, you were—you wanted to relax?”
“I want you to relax,” Sciel said, taking the out gratefully, “though this is starting off suspiciously like it did when we were seventeen.”
Lune’s laugh seemed to startle even her. Sciel soaked up the sound, let it wash away her foul mood. “Do you want it to happen like it did when we were seventeen? I seem to remember how off-balance we both were.”
“I could think of a few better ways to handle you,” Sciel offered, resting a hand on Lune’s thigh, “if you let me.”
Lune hesitated, looking down at Sciel’s hand. Sciel could see the gears turning behind her eyes as she glanced at the stowed Expedition journal, then over at Esquie, then the Curator’s cave, the area the lost Gestrals took up—Sciel waited for her to arrive at her conclusion.
“. . . and how will you handle me?” Lune asked. She dragged her fingers down Sciel’s arm, nudging Sciel’s hand over so Lune could interlace their fingers.
“However you need me to,” Sciel said, squeezing Lune’s hand. “Though I did see you take down an axon, yesterday. I’ve been thinking about ruining that composure of yours all day.”
Sciel had the great fortune to watch Lune blush. Her expression was a little sheepish, a little guilty, but the interest didn’t fade.
“I can’t give you anything more.” It was far more warning than Lune had given the last time they tried this.
“I won’t ask for anything more,” Sciel promised.
Lune nodded, eyes falling to Sciel’s lips. “Alright. Come handle me, then.”
🌕🌆🌃
Maybe they should have moved to a different part of camp, but kissing Lune in front of the dying embers of the fire, where anyone could see them if they simply turned to look, was too exciting. Lune didn’t seem to mind, kissing Sciel like she would be quizzed later on exactly how to make Sciel squirm—and Lune had always been dedicated to her studies.
Sciel managed to pull away just far enough to press kisses into the cheek not marked by pictos, kissing down to Lune’s jaw and mouthing along the sharp edge of it. Lune sighed into the sensation. Sciel’s lips found Lune’s jugular, gums aching to take the thin skin into her mouth and paint her own chin blood red. She let the urge slide away, making her way down to Lune’s collar.
Blocked with no way forward, Sciel straightened up. She tugged down Lune’s half length jacket, folding it carefully. Lune leaned back on her elbows, watching Sciel put the folded jacket aside.
“Really?” Lune said, corner of her lips twisting up.
“I told you I’ve changed,” Sciel said, grinning back. When they were kids, they hadn’t even bothered to remove their clothes. They’d been in too much of a rush, too busy beating back the grief with each others’ bodies.
“I’m betting you want my shirt off this time, too,” Lune said, already fiddling with her own buttons.
“More than that, I hope,” Sciel said. She took the queue for what it was and stood up, Lune following her example. Sciel stripped out of her own jacket, tugged off her cropped top, undid her boots, and dropped her trousers. She left her underwear on, folding each article of clothing neatly and setting them in a small pile next to the growing collection of Lune’s many layers.
“You left your choker on.” Lune’s eyes were on Sciel’s neck, fumbling with her belt; Lune had left on her own necklace, hanging between her pretty breasts. She stood a little hunched, like she didn’t actually want Sciel to see the miles and miles of pale, scarred skin.
Sciel trailed her fingers along the length of her own choker, hooking one under to tug gently on the fabric. Lune swallowed.
“Let me help with that,” Sciel said, reaching for Lune’s belt.
Lune didn’t stop her, running a thumb along the choker as Sciel worked to remove Lune’s trousers. Sciel hoped Lune might tug on it herself, but Lune only lowered her head for another deep kiss that had Sciel’s toes squirming against the ground.
It was a thrilling reminder of what they were about to do—of Lune’s pretty feet and butt and shoulders on the ground in the dirt, of mud in her perfect hair, of the allure of Lune’s sweat and the earthy scent of nature. Sciel’s mouth was watering already.
She kissed down Lune’s throat, down the center of her sternum, between her two breasts, careful not to disturb the necklace Lune wouldn’t take off. Sciel reached around her, undoing the bra with a quick, practiced movement. She ran her fingers along Lune’s chest, fingers finding her pretty brown nipples, tracing the crease beneath her breasts, exploring uncharted territory. Had she even seen Lune’s chest last time? Sciel was so eager to have her, to have her mouth on Lune, that she hadn’t been paying attention.
She made up for it now, lavishing the skin with kisses and sharp little bites. Lune gasped when Sciel’s teeth closed around her nipple, clawing at Sciel’s ass. Her other hand tugged at Sciel’s ponytail, dragging her away from Lune’s flushed skin.
“Too much?” Sciel flicked at the nipple she had just bitten, earning herself another gasp and a small, greedy noise. “Or not enough?”
“If you don’t move on, we’re not going to get anywhere,” Lune pointed out, “and I thought you were going to handle me.”
“Aren’t I doing that?” Sciel asked innocently. Lune rolled her eyes, but Sciel wasn’t quite done with her yet. She leaned down for the other nipple.
Lune stopped her with a (gentle) hand to the face. “Seriously! I’m already worked up!”
Sciel laughed despite herself, pulling free. The impatience was new—and just from a little kissing!
Sciel ran her thumbs over Lune’s nipples, just to see Lune’s chest jump with another gasp. Lune must’ve been sensitive here; Sciel didn’t really get much out of her own nipples, but Lune’s little noises were damning. If Sciel had known that last time, she would’ve taken advantage of that fact, instead of going straight for Lune’s trousers.
Sciel lingered there a little longer, one hand massaging at Lune’s soft breast, the other holding the other up so Sciel had an easier time kissing and liking and biting. Lune squirmed in her arms, hips rolling down towards the thigh Sciel shoved between Lune’s legs. She was already wet, soaking Sciel’s thigh as her hips twitched and jumped. When Sciel switched breasts, twisting one nipple and lapping at the other, Lune’s head fell back, moan loud in the night air.
“You’re so hot,” Sciel told her. Lune’s expression was delicious, a rare vulnerability in her eyes as she let Sciel touch her.
Sciel took pity, finally pressing a kiss to Lune’s breastbone and moving down again. She got on her knees in the dirt, hands coming around to squeeze Lune’s ass. She kissed the softness of Lune’s stomach, the hair on her mound, then paused over Lune’s core.
Lune’s fingers sank into Sciel’s hair. Sciel considered licking into her right then and there. Then she leaned back, reaching for Lune’s ankle.
“What now,” Lune grumbled, shifting her weight gamely as Sciel lifted up her foot. Sciel kissed the top of Lune’s foot, the sharp bone of her ankle, kissing her way up Lune’s shin. When Sciel kissed Lune’s knee, Lune spoke again. “Are you seriously going to kiss my entire legs before you start eating me out? Does that do anything for you?”
“I could trace all your pictos tattoos with my tongue, if you’d rather me do that,” Sciel offered, watching Lune’s cheeks darken at the words. “I could spend half the night just doing that, you have so many.”
“Nevermind, kissing me everywhere is fine,” Lune said quickly.
Sciel held Lune’s gaze best she could, pressing the tip of her tongue to the golden chroma embedded into Lune’s leg. Lune bit her lip. Sciel followed the small ridge, tasting electric skin and sweat and crusted mud as she went.
“Oh,” Lune breathed, realization thick in her voice, “I don’t get any choice, do I?”
“Good girl,” Sciel said indulgently, lowering Lune’s foot back down. Sciel leaned up onto her knees, nuzzling between Lune’s thighs, looking for access to Lune’s sopping wet core.
“Shit,” Lune muttered, baring her teeth in a helplessly excited smile of her own. She ran a hand through her dark hair and adjusted how she was standing, her legs parted just enough to give Sciel a little room to maneuver.
Sciel leaned into her warmth, lapping away at everything her tongue could reach. Lune ground down into Sciel’s tongue with a little groan. Sciel pressed a quick kiss to where Lune’s clit was hidden between her folds.
She ran a finger down the seam of Lune’s core, earning a gasp. She carefully parted Lune’s folds, angling her head so that she could lick Sciel let her eyes fall shut, trying to get as much of Lune’s taste onto her tongue as possible.
“Can we,” Lune managed, “can we lay down?”
It would make Sciel’s job easier. She kissed Lune’s clit again and gestured towards the ground. Lune snagged her shirt and laid it out on the floor before laying down. Sciel shuffled forward, wrapping her hands around Lune’s legs and raising them up as far as they would go.
“I’m not that flexible,” Lune told her, even though Sciel had seen the way Lune twisted through the air when she dodged.
“You don’t need to be,” Sciel said anyway, shrugging a shoulder. She bent in half, one arm wrapped around Lune’s thigh, the other stroking Lune. “But if you’re ever in the mood, I’m that flexible.”
Lune’s eyebrows raised. Sciel winked at her and parted her folds with two fingers. Lune’s hips jumped at the sudden sensation. Sciel thrust her tongue into Lune, relishing in the wet heat of her. Lune moaned, hips rocking down towards Sciel.
She tongue-fucked Lune until her tongue hurt. Then she sunk two fingers into Lune—grinned at the loud moan that startled out of Lune—and worked her open with them, kissing and licking and sucking on Lune’s clit. And when that started to be too much, she dug her two fingers into Lune, holding her open and lapping up all the slick gushing out of her, spare hand rubbing tight circles into Lune’s clit. And when Lune seemed to get close to coming, she drew out her fingers and traced little patterns over Lune’s lips with her tongue. And when Lune calmed, chest heaving, her moans less urgent, Sciel started all over again, tongue thrusting into Lune’s waiting heat.
Sciel stayed there for what felt like centuries, all of her willpower and energy bent towards torturing Lune for as long as possible. Every inch of her strained for any indication that Lune was about to come—how her thighs tensed and tried to close, how fast she moaned, how she squirmed towards Lune, trying to get more, her hands clawing at her own chest as if it would help.
She waited for as long as she dared, waited for her gasps to turn shaky, waited until she could see the tears in Lune’s eyes when she peered down at Sciel. Only when she was good and ready, and when Lune looked like she was about two seconds from either crying or shoving Sciel away to finish on her own, only then did Sciel decide to have mercy on her.
Lune came with a stifled wail, fingers in her own mouth, whole body tense and shaking. She clenched around Sciel’s fingers, hips flinching between their steady motions and the painful suction of Sciel’s lips over her clit. She squirted all over Sciel’s chin and neck, soaking her even more. Sciel spared half a second to be grateful she had taken off most of her clothes.
She slowed to a stop, slowly sliding out her fingers from Lune. She kept her hand pressed to Lune, like that would somehow help sooth her. She kissed the top of Lune’s mound and straightened back up, taking her in.
Her eyeshadow had smudged, dragged halfway down her face—her fingers had matching dark stains. Her dark eyes were half shut, blinking hazily up at the stars. Sciel tugged Lune’s hand out of her mouth, glancing over it to make sure she hadn’t bitten herself. She laced their fingers together, bringing up her wet hand to stroke up and down Lune’s soft stomach.
“What’re the stars telling you?” Sciel asked after a moment.
“That they could hear me all the way in Lumière,” Lune whispered.
Sciel looked around the camp. Esquie and Maelle were still together, the both of them fast asleep. Verso and Monoco had disappeared at some point. Sciel couldn’t see them anywhere. If the Curator or Sastro cared at all about what Sciel and Lune were doing, neither had made themselves known.
“We’re clear,” Sciel said.
Lune raised an eyebrow. “We are?”
“Mhm. Everyone’s asleep.” Sciel shifted back, hands slipping away from Lune. She was still feeling pretty hot under her choker; if Lune was too tired to keep going, then Sciel had a working pair of fingers that she was aching to get inside of herself. “Want another one?”
Lune’s other eyebrow raised. She sat up properly, reaching out to cup Sciel’s cheeks. She peered into Sciel’s eyes. “You’re not tired?”
“Is that a yes, Lulu?” Sciel asked sweetly.
Lune giggled—an actual giggle, not one of her usual chuckles. “Lulu? Really?”
Sciel scooted forward and kissed into her mouth, relishing in how Lune didn’t actually start kissing back for a couple seconds, too busy giggling. Lune’s mouth was hot and warm and her lips were so soft against Sciel’s own. Sciel thought this might be worth all the stress they had been through: having a pretty lady in her lap, drunk and happy from an orgasm, feeling the unselfconscious press of Lune’s body against her own.
She had wanted this all day, ever since she saw the stars in Lune’s eyes as she approached Sirène. Lune was at ease in Sciel’s arms, kissing her lazily, without the intense focus from earlier. She had finally relaxed, the little crease between her brows gone. Hopefully, the memory of her parents, of the past two axon fights, had slipped away somewhere they no longer mattered.
Lune’s fingers found their way to Sciel’s underwear. Sciel smiled into Lune’s mouth as her delicate fingers brushed over wet fabric. Lune had always been awkward about taking care of others; Sciel figured this would be no different.
“I’ve got it,” Sciel said, catching Lune’s delicate wrist. She brought it up and kissed Lune’s pulse point. She kissed the tips of Lune’s fingers, licking away the traces of her own slick.
“Can’t I do one thing for you?” Lune mumbled, eyes focused on Sciel’s lips. Then she straightened up, an idea clearly occuring to her. “Wait, I have a pictos for this!”
“You’re kidding!” Sciel grinned at her. What in the world sort of pictos could be used for getting Sciel off?
Lune carefully tugged her hand out of Sciel’s grip, eyes shining. “Can I?”
“Sure.”
Lune spared her a quick smile and reached for Sciel’s underwear again. This time, she hurried to remove them, exposing Sciel’s core to the cold night air. Lune licked her lips, fingers trailing through the soaked hair, her soft touch agony when it found Sciel’s clit. Sciel moaned, hips twitching closer.
Lune swirled her fingers over Sciel’s pelvis, motioning like she was drawing something out of Sciel. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then purple light beamed out of Sciel’s skin. Sciel watched as a dick made of purple light pushed through her skin. Lune had placed it more or less where Sciel’s dick would be if she had thought to bring her harness on the expedition.
Sciel wiggled her hips, watching it sway, eyebrows raised. Out of curiosity, she curled a couple fingers around it.
Sensation shot through Sciel’s clit. She gasped, loud and ragged. Lune grinned at her, tonguing at one of her canines. Lune intertwined her fingers with Sciel’s around the cock, hot against the purple light.
“I haven’t actually tried this on anyone yet,” Lune said, smile wide and lopsided, “not even myself. Is it that strong?”
Sciel nodded and, with a mischievous little grin, Lune started jacking Sciel off. Sciel bit back a moan, hips jerking. It felt like they were stroking her clit—like a band of warmth was pressing into her, dragging up and down the length of her, setting her on fire. Lune stuck her fingers into Sciel’s mouth, staring fascinated as Sciel immediately started gnawing on them, trying to vent the overwhelming pressure somehow. Lune dragged both of their hands up and down Sciel’s cock relentlessly, even when Sciel stopped trying to squirm closer and started trying to get away. Sciel’s bare toes curled in the dirt, teeth lodging in the meat of Lune’s hand, body taut.
Lune let go of Sciel. For a couple seconds, Sciel just shook, resisting the urge to cum with every ounce of strength in her. She cracked her eyes open, blinking away the tears. Belatedly, she realized her teeth were still clamped down on Lune’s hand.
“I can probably make it a little less intense if you give me a moment,” Lune offered, because only she would offer to do complex magical equations in the middle of sex. She extracted her hand, looked down at the little bloody punctures, then returned her attention to Sciel.
Sciel didn’t want Lune working on pictos right now—the whole point of this entire endeavor (aside from dispelling the heat swirling under Sciel’s skin) was to make Lune relax, take a night off. “I can handle it.”
Lune shrugged a shoulder. She swept her hair up and away from her shoulders. Sciel eyed her torso, the crease where her thighs met her hips, the pudge on her stomach, the heavy weight of her breasts and the brown nipples that adorned them, as Lune laid back down, carefully arranging her hair so it wouldn’t get in her way. She reached down, parting her folds with trembling fingers, the other holding onto one breast.
Sciel swallowed thickly and shuffled forward on her knees. They both gasped as Sciel’s dick slipped between those open folds. Sciel felt like she was melting already.
“Ready?” Sciel asked. Her voice was shaking.
Lune nodded eagerly. Sciel was one hundred percent certain that Lune was mentally taking notes of all Sciel’s reactions, trying to figure out which adjustments would need to be made to the pictos, relaxing night be damned.
Sciel took a steadying breath. She pushed in.
Her mouth dropped open, breath caught in her chest. She shook, unable to feel anything beyond the warm, wet tightness that clamped down around her clit. She bent in half, fighting not to immediately cum. Her forehead met a warm shoulder—Sciel sunk her teeth into skin and muscle, clinging for dear life.
Lune moaned, wiggling her hips. Sciel could barely hear her over the rushing of blood in her ears. She pressed a hand into Lune’s stomach, trying to get her to hold still while Sciel adjusted.
“It’s like—” Lune managed. “It feels so strange—like electricity, uh, shit, Sciel, unhook your jaw!”
Sciel let go of Lune’s shoulder, but couldn’t bring herself to straighten up, kissing Lune’s shoulder in apology. Lune ran a hand up and down Sciel’s arm, twisting awkwardly to look at the blood welling up in the shape of Sciel’s teeth.
“What’s it like for you?” Lune asked, running her thumb through the blood. She stuck her thumb into her own mouth, licking away her blood. Sciel felt dizzy at the sight. Abruptly, the pleasure wasn’t enough. She needed more. This felt good, it felt beyond good, but watching Lune’s tongue swirl around her own thumb was making Sciel lightheaded.
“’S like I put my clit in you,” she rasped, “can’t think—can I move?”
Simple as the answer was, Lune looked satisfied with it. “I was wondering when you’d—oh!”
Sciel couldn’t wait. She awkwardly slid her dick out, tears burning her eyes. Then she thrust back in, the motion practiced from using her strap back on Lumière. Sciel and Lune cried out together, Lune scrambling to cover both of their mouths as muscle memory dictated a rhythm for Sciel to follow.
There were no words for the pleasure Sciel was feeling—she felt like she was about two seconds from coming, each thrust dragging a tight heat like she’d never felt before up and down her clit. If she pinched herself, she didn’t know if she would be able to feel it around the fire tearing through her. All she could feel was Lune—Lune’s warmth, Lune’s fingers clinging to Sciel for dear life, Lune’s heels at the base of Sciel’s spine, Lune’s slick covering the both of their thighs—
Sciel’s orgasm hit like a chromatic nevron. She shuddered her way through it, rhythm lost immediately, hands locked around Lune’s hips. She ground up into Lune’s body, gasping for breath, straining for more. Lune fucked down on Sciel’s cock despite Sciel’s hold on her hips, sending waves of white-hot pleasure though Sciel. She felt the orgasm in her teeth, clenched around a scream.
When her brain worked well enough to hitch two thoughts together, Sciel pulled out of Lune. Before Lune could complain, Sciel tugged her hips up, dragging her down her white shirt, closer to Sciel. Lune gasped and gasped again when Sciel’s mouth met Lune’s soaked, overheated core.
She ate Lune out ravenously. Her hips were still jerking, dick bumping against Lune’s back from the awkward angle Sciel held her at. She buried her face in Lune’s core, desperate to make Lune come again, to feel the gush of her against Sciel’s tongue.
Lune’s hips jerked against Sciel as she came again. Her thighs locked around Sciel’s head, pinning her in place as Lune rode out her orgasm. Lune’s legs relaxed when the orgasm began to fade. Sciel gripped her hips tighter, keeping her close.
Sciel pushed her tongue deeper into Lune, lapping up all the slick she could find. Lune moaned and squirmed and tried to get away. Sciel held her in place, licking desperately into Lune. She couldn’t think, her skin buzzed with electricity. She wanted more—she wanted everything Lune could give her, everything Lune was willing to part with in this moment. Anything to prove to herself that she was wanted, that Lune still cared for her in any capacity, that Sciel hadn’t outgrown whatever meager usefulness she had provided the team. Anything to prove that she was more than the many, many people she had lost.
Sciel slid two, three fingers into Lune, thrusting in forcefully, dragging her fingers against Lune’s velvet soft walls. Lune moaned even louder, heels thudding against Sciel’s back. Sciel’s free hand wrapped around one of Lune’s legs, fingers close enough to stroke Lune’s clit. Lune’s hands somehow found Sciel’s hair, tugging painfully.
Sciel looked up at her, but didn’t move from where she was eating Lune out. Lune stared up at her, entire face and neck and chest red red red. Sciel thrust her fingers deeper—and then added another.
Lune cried out, hips rocking to meet Sciel thrust for thrust. She scrambled for something to hold onto. She found her own breasts, slender, delicate fingers digging into the plush skin. Sciel’s hips jerked at the sight, grinding her dick up against Lune’s back.
“In, please!” Lune begged, reaching for Sciel. “Please, Sciel!”
Sciel lowered Lune’s hips and thrust all the way in without pause. Lune’s back arched, orgasm ripping through her for the third time. Sciel fucked her through it, her whole body trembling, watching Lune’s mouth part around a silent scream. She shook around Sciel, every line of her tense and quivering, overwhelmed.
When Lune slumped back against the ground, Sciel slowly pulled out again. Lune grumbled, shifting her hips. Sciel wrapped her fingers around her dick, the other reaching down for her own core. She shoved three fingers into herself, gasping as she tried to jerk herself off and finger herself at once.
She came awkwardly curled around herself, fingers moving frantically, hips jerking like she was trying to cum all over Lune’s blissed out form. Her clit tingled, her entire lower half so sensitive that it wrapped back around to feeling numb.
“How,” Sciel panted, “do you. . . dispel this?”
Lune waved a hand and the dick dissolved into little flecks of light. Sciel sighed when it disappeared, her clit aching from the hard use. She closed her legs protectively, leaning forward to cushion her face in Lune’s pretty tits. Lune pet Sciel’s head.
They laid there until their breathing was steady and their sweaty skin was cold. Then Sciel sat back up, running her hands through her hair.
“Let’s go wash up,” she whispered to Lune, feeling a little strange about breaking the quiet.
Lune nodded and followed Sciel to the river. They carefully washed themselves and each other, touches lingering. Lune didn’t kiss Sciel again and Sciel didn’t bother to try to kiss her either. She didn’t want to scare off Lune, not when she was feeling so fragile already.
Still, Lune let Sciel set her on a rock ledge above the waterline, let Sciel check her under the moonlight to make sure she hadn’t hurt Lune in anyway. She didn’t protest the careful way Sciel smoothed her hands down Lune’s thighs or the way her thumb stroked Lune’s soft skin. Lune didn’t seem to have noticed at all, fingers finding bruises and the bite marks Sciel had left on her and pressing down curiously.
In the hollow of Lune’s thighs, there was what looked like a bruise. Sciel ran her fingers over it, but Lune didn’t even twitch. Sciel glanced up at Lune’s still expression and leaned down to get a better look at the mark, gently maneuvering Lune’s knee to the side.
The smudge was in shades of gray. It swirled from the outside of one of her labia lips all the way to the crease of her leg.
“Shit,” Sciel muttered, running her thumb over the mark again. “Uh, Lune?”
“Mm?”
“So, you know Verso’s scar?”
There was a long moment of silence. Then Lune groaned, pinching at the bridge of her nose. Sciel smiled guiltily up at her.
“Next time,” Lune rasped, “I’m going to fuck the chroma out of you.”
It was a threat, but Sciel couldn’t help but beam down at Lune, something tight in her chest finally easing. It wasn’t just that there would be more of this—more of seeing Lune’s face and chest flushed red, more of her trembling thighs wrapped around Sciel’s hips, more of her clever fingers exploring Sciel’s overheated skin—but that Lune saw Sciel in her future.
They were on their way tomorrow to break open the barrier, on their way to kill the Paintress for real, the closest any Expedition had ever gotten to winning the war, and Lune saw a future where Sciel and her could stay friends. Lune saw a future where she returned to her normal life, where they won and the people of Lumière were saved, a future where Lune could be anything and do anything without the crushing weight of the Gommage hanging over them—and in that golden future, Lune saw Sciel. Sophie was gone, Gustave was gone, Pierre and the baby, and when they came out on top, when the Paintress fell, when they returned home victorious, Lune still wanted Sciel in her life. In a world where there was no longer any glue holding the Disaster Expedition together, Lune still wanted Sciel to be her friend.
“I look forward to it,” Sciel told Lune, and meant a hundred, thousand more things in that sentence than Lune would ever know.
🌕🌆🌃
Sciel paused, shirt half on, trousers unbuttoned. Verso had frozen, haunches raised, peeking at her through his lashes. Sciel could almost see him decide that he wasn’t going to have any luck with running. He nodded a little to her and continued on to the campfire.
“Morning,” Sciel said anyway. Lune startled awake at the sound of Sciel’s voice, even though she hadn’t noticed at all when Sciel had gotten up a moment ago. “What were you and Monoco doing last night? More of that seducing you were telling me about?”
“Verso?” Lune mumbled, sitting up slowly. “You’re fucking Monoco?”
Verso’s expression twisted, his shoulders hunching more. He relaxed a second later, running a hand through his hair with a forced ease. “We were sparring.”
“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Sciel said, earning a snort from Lune. “I remember having a fair few of those spars with the other expeditioners.”
“I’ve had one or two of my own,” Lune agreed. She rolled over in her sleeping bag, hiding in whatever small warmth it provided. “But with Monoco though. . . does he have you as a Gestral or does he transform—”
“How about we leave that discussion for some other time,” Verso interrupted. Sciel didn’t know if Verso could blush, but he was definitely looking embarrassed enough for it. “Maelle will be awake soon.”
“Maelle’s a teenager and will sleep half the day if she thinks she can get away with it,” Sciel pointed out. She leered at Verso, delight fizzling in her veins. She hadn’t truly thought he meant it when he said he had seduced Monoco, but now, now she was sure!
“All the more reason to wake her now,” Verso said, already turning away, “I volunteer myself for the job. No need to disturb your morning routines.” He sped towards Maelle and Esquie, each step just short enough to technically count as still walking.
Sciel started strapping on her gear. Lune sighed as she did, the sound covering the soft sounds of Verso trying to convince Esquie that now was the perfect time to wake Maelle. Lune sat up in the sleeping bag, tugging at her clothing to cover her properly. Sciel wished she could see more of Lune’s body in the light of day, but she wasn’t going to push it. She had promised Lune she wouldn’t ask for more—and Lune herself had offered up a future night under the stars.
“Can you imagine getting a couple kisses in,” Lune said, rubbing at an eye, “and then Monoco pulls out a half-rotted foot?”
“Maybe Verso’s into feet,” Sciel said with a shrug, “they’re a match made in heaven.”
Lune considered that. Then she said, “you know, you kissed my foot and ankle last night. Are you—”
“I’m not spending the night with Monoco,” Sciel interrupted.
Lune laughed.
Sciel plopped down next to her friend with a massive grin. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed that your feet are always—”
Monoco re-entered the camp as Lune’s laugh turned into a rare, full-bellied cackle. He looked identical to how he always looked, when he wasn’t transformed. Sciel didn’t have even the beginnings of an idea of how to read his body language when it came to sex. Did Gestrals even have sex? Sciel didn’t think that they did, considering their cycle of life and death and chroma—but then again, Verso did teach Monoco French, so who knew what else Verso might have told him about.
“Monoco!” Lune gasped, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. Verso shouted behind them, a rare flustered panic driving him away from Esquie and Maelle even as their youngest teammate startled awake. “Monoco, I have a question for you!”
“No!” Verso shouted. “Don’t answer! Run, Monoco!”
Lune jumped out of her sleeping bag, hurrying to reach Monoco before Verso did. Sciel stayed where she was, watching the camp descend into chaos. They’d had a few hard days. They had a few hard days ahead of them. A little laughter would make the load just that much lighter.