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Sometimes it feels like Hitori is drawn to embarrassing situations. Or, embarrassing situations are drawn to her. She finds herself in horrible scenarios conjured up by pure happenstance and misfortune every day. It was almost like she was a moth to a flame.
Nijika said her breaking a glass bottle in the middle of a grocery store aisle was just one instance of the universe preparing her for the future. One ripple in an ocean of fuck ups. The thought of the future made her cringe, but she eventually believed her. She couldn’t make herself step foot into a grocery store last year.
“Progress is normal,” her girlfriend had repeated, holding her hand to prevent her soul from escaping this corporeal realm. “We are always improving as a band when we practice together. This is just that.”
Hitori is less likely to believe her when she managed to do so again. The store clerk had sent her a look so dirty her heart willed itself from beating. ‘Maybe progress was a myth,’ she thought as she floated in the nothingness of limbo. ‘Maybe, the universe just finds her pathetic enough to keep playing with her, over and over, until she becomes nothing but a pool of bubblegum pink embarrassment.’ But then she got resurrected and all her energy gets used apologizing to anyone who could hear her.
She imagines aliens – little short ones and stubby tall ones with blue and pink and yellow all over – all laughing from somewhere beyond her depths. “There she is,” they mock, falling out of their spinny levitating chairs from amusement. “There she is, unable to move from the shock! How pitiful!”
She curses at them, but her feet stay stationary anyway. What lies beyond had stuck them onto the floorboards indefinitely.
Hitori had just got to Kita’s house for another band meeting. She had missed the bus beforehand, but none of her girlfriends really scorned her for being late before. She surprises herself with how careless she became. Years ago she would complicate every move she made, but now she had opened Kita’s bedroom door without so much as a knock–
Ryo, completely naked sans the pair of panties lowered to her knees, was straddling Kita on her bed. Her face was hidden underneath the nook of her neck, planting deep kisses onto her collarbone. Kita’s shirt was also nowhere to be seen, her small, perky breasts very much on display. The sounds they made were very much lewd and Bocchi suddenly became very, very much conflicted as she stopped in the door frame and stared.
They… They were having sex.
The initial shock eventually wears off and she finds herself rationalizing that it was expected for the two to have sex. They were girlfriends, of course they were going to have sex. It’s a common fact that her girlfriends – especially Ryo – had those feelings for each other, and Bocchi would be a liar if she said she didn’t have those feelings either… So yeah, sex.
…
God, what the hell is she supposed to do in this situation?! Neither of them had noticed her yet! She was supposed to leave, wasn’t she? She should leave. She can’t leave. She watches as Kita cries in a half moan half laugh sort of way when Ryo nips at her navel and thinks what a shame it would be to leave. But she should. She should.
Bocchi had a complicated relationship with sex. She wants it; her girlfriends want it, obviously enough, but she couldn’t. She just can’t. Sex warrants a deeper part of intimacy that simultaneously freezes her to ice and burns her alive. The last time Kita kissed anywhere lower than her collarbone she had completely deflated. Like– physically deflated. Her body ended up flying around the room like a balloon emptying itself. She’s been with Kita for three years.
When she eventually did come to any resemblance of a ‘mood’ came and went. The same situation happens whenever she tries to be remotely intimate with Ryo or Nijika. It leaves her embarrassed and wanting, unimaginably bitter.
Her girlfriends are entirely understanding of her predicament, but she can’t help yearning when they eventually leave to engage in more adult things. It’s hard to even voice her engagement for such things when her body ends up rejecting it entirely. Recently, she had stopped trying all together.
The consequences of her abstinence nearly burn her face off. It dips down to her chest, the warmth coiling in her stomach, before mercilessly dropping down to her thighs. It causes an ache that throbs hungrily, and she presses her legs together in shame.
Air flies from her cowlick. She tightens her hair tie before she could deflate again.
“H-Hitori-chan!” Kita gasps, causing Bocchi to redirect her attention to them. Oh. “H-Hi, Hitori-chan. Hello. We weren’t… We weren’t doing anything! Just… Just…”
“We were having sex,” Ryo supplies, causing Kita to squeak and Bocchi to shiver into herself at how good it all sounds. She straightens herself above Kita and with a seductive, calculating glint in her eye adds, “Want to join in?”
“Join?” she whispers and the room becomes very, very quiet. What wouldn’t she give to just join?
Her imagination takes over before she could give an answer. What if she says yes? Would Ryo straddle her too, effortlessly making her way with her? Would Kita kiss her all over until she’s bursting with want, muttering sweet nothings against her ear?
What if she does something wrong? What if she accidentally engages the wrong hole or misses the clit or does something horrible like somehow hitting the cervix? What if she actually hurts them in the midst of her shameful desire? What if, oh god, what if they leave her? She gets sex is an important part of relationships and they have a right not being with a boring hag such as herself but the thought of them actually leaving sends her breathless in all the wrong ways, packs her chest inwards and doesn’t let go despite her frantic struggles. Suddenly it’s too hot, it’s borderline suffocating and she cannot breath–
“Breathe, Bocchi,” Ryo says and she does. She gasps, doubling onto herself with relief because they are not gone yet, Ryo’s here, and Ryo is always so nice to her when it matters.
“It’s okay,” she soothes, rubbing her back with a concern uncharacteristic of her. “It’s okay. It was only a request. You don’t have to do anything you're uncomfortable with.”
“Sorry, I’m–” she pauses to regain her breath, taking the reins from her frustration. One breath– then two, three… “I’m just… stressed. I’m stressed.”
“That’s alright,” Ryo smiles, moving to tuck Hitori’s hair behind her ear. Her worries escape her momentarily as her heart flutters. “We don’t mind.”
“Yeah, we don’t mind at all!” Kita chirps behind them. “We were just finishing anyway. We can–”
“Don’t." Her voice is all pitchy and embarrassing. “I’m okay.”
“But–”
“I don’t want to ruin your fun.”
Hitori's words bounce off the walls with a finality she didn't expect. She lets it ring, sharing glances with both of her girlfriends. Ryo is now completely naked. She ties her hair tie tighter with a sigh.
“I’ll be in the living room,” she concludes, nodding to herself as if desire isn’t vibrating against her skin and rippling against the walls of her abdomen. Then, before she could think further: “Please, don’t mind me.”
She hears one of them cry in protest – Kita, she presumes – but she leaves and shuts the door before she could regret it. She leans against the wall with another heavy sigh, letting the embarrassment and frustration and ache all roll off her in waves.
The ache between her legs hadn’t calmed in the slightest.
It’s all too much, she thinks. It’s so unfair. She always had the opportunity to detonate from anything. Even her girlfriends have a chance of potentially setting off the bomb. And they want to. Somewhere along the years they’ve been together Bocchi had figured out they want to pick apart and explore the delicacies that make up her the same way she wants to do to them. Eventually, she allowed them. Was that bravery? A comfortability of sorts?
Her breathing slows as she calms herself, allowing her thoughts to pass by until they become absolute. The frustration inside her molds into deliberation and eventually crumbles into bits of acceptance.
There are things she absolutely, thoroughly cannot do. Bocchi physically cannot wear a two piece swimsuit or pronounce the complicated names of trendy drinks or sing in front of people. She can’t have sex yet, and that’s okay. That’s fine.
Yet— and the word entices her, encapsulates her, expands her imagination with possibilities she never considered in an instance. Yet never meant never.
A hand quietly slips into her tracksuit.
“You are pathetic!” the universe screams at her, all of those little aliens facepalming and gawking at her shameful display. “You are in Kita’s house, in her hallway, touching yourself at the thought of them having sex in the next room! How desperate could you be?!”
Her first thought of Kita was her on that bed, her normally neat hair scattered messily on her pillow as Ryo kissed her senseless. She quickly decides the universe could go fuck itself.
She sinks to her knees to further finger her entrance, her long, slow circles causing her breath to stutter in her throat. She wonders if Ryo was patient enough to touch her like this. She was often very impatient most days, but the way she took her sweet time kissing Kita captivated her. Would she take the time to mark her the same way she did Kita? Would she take the same care with her, lapping at her clit with the same practiced delicacy?
Bocchi groans, bucking her hips against her hand. She kicks her pants off with increasing need, her thoughts once again racing as they move through fantasy after fantasy. She was already so humiliatingly wet. A side still weakly holding on to reason fretted on how embarrassing it was to be this desperate, but the rest of her readily ignores it in favor of imaging Ryo’s tongue licking it off for her. She would thank her for the meal after, slowly and absolutely filthy so, purposely sucking the remains of her lust off her fingers with a sinful pop. She pressed the calloused pads of her fingers against her clit as she bites back a moan, throwing her head back from the pleasure.
Would Kita indulge her and sit on her face? She would, probably. She could barely take thinking about her plush thighs across her face, her floral perfume threatening to suffocate her entirely. She would mew praises above her and grind herself tenderly against her and when she was done she would pull her by the hem of her track suit to kiss her so hard she’d see stars–
A cry jolts her out of the daydream. That wasn’t her.
“R-Ryo!” Kita, the real one, rasps from the bedroom. Bocchi stares at the closed door in shock, her lust-fueled brain short-circuiting as it adjusts to the real world. Those sounds weren’t a part of her imagination, right? “Right there, Ryo. Yes, r-right there!”
She hears Ryo grunt, her words incomprehensible behind the walls. Bocchi blinks once, then twice–
Oh, and her legs tremble from the amount of arousal that hits her. She works up the pace of her fingers once again, a moan freely spilling from her lips. Oh, they’re having sex.
She wonders – and her grinding now entirely desperate, animalistic – she wonders if they’ll still indulge her if she becomes that big shot rock star she always dreamed of. She wonders if Ryo would let Bocchi pin her to the sheets and lick her pussy dry. She wonders if Kita could take a strap-on and let her fuck her until she’s a mess of red hair and messy mascara moaning her name. She wonders if they would shiver underneath her, would take her orders and cling to her and scream her name like it’s their damn god.
Bocchi wails, her eyes watering as desire racks her body. She presses her back against the wall and begs. She pleads with anyone that could hear her twisted, fifty desires. She wants it. She wants it so badly her body can’t take it anymore. She does not know what ‘it’ was at this point, her body becoming a boiling, tipping point of want. She never felt this good in her entire life.
“Please,” she sobs, Kita’s moans increasing the more she babbles. The sounds that ripple their way from her throat were barely words than they were feelings, incoherent jargon that made no sense to anyone but her own lust ridden brain. “...Fuck! Take it, Ryo! Please, Kita, please! I want it! I want, please, I want—”
She wonders if they’re thinking about her.
Kita screams out, her voice high strung and filled with satisfaction as she finishes. Bocchi's body practically unwinds itself from the sound, building her so steady and strongly and unashamedly until finally, finally–
She comes with a strangled shriek, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as pleasure completely dissolves her. Her entire body lurches at its strength. Blankets of stars fill her vision and for the first time she forgets what embarrassment even feels like. Eventually her body slumps against the wall she was against, trembling in the aftermaths of her orgasm as she lazily circled her swollen clit.
Hitori doesn’t know how long she had stayed basking in her bliss before the door flies open. Ryo strides out of the room, still gloriously naked, and puts her hands on her cheeks to smash their lips together. Hitori's eyes flutter close at the messy impact and she sighs into her mouth.
“You’re so fucking hot, Bocchi,” she says when they part, wiping the tears that had accumulated on her cheeks. “God, you’re so good. Hearing you like that– it was insane. I could barely contain myself. Kita, too; she wanted to call out your name, but we decided against it. Fuck, we need to do that again. We need to do without that damn door, I want to see you when you scream–”
Bocchi lifts herself to kiss Ryo again, cutting her off from rambling further. Her lips were swollen from kisses, she realized, and her taste had mingled with various fluids she was positive was Kita’s. She drinks the sight of Ryo’s flushed cheeks next, her messy bob sticking out in unforeseen places, of her half mast eyes drunk with arousal and satisfaction. Her heart still manages to flutter.
“I’m glad,” she smiles, confused and delighted and still very much riding off the high of her orgasm. “I-I mean, I wasn’t doing that for attention or anything, I just…. I’m glad I could help.”
Ryo nods, fully intending to talk further, but a gentle nudge on Bocchi’s shoulder interrupts her. Bocchi’s weaken state causes her to topple from the force and fall into Kita’s chest. Kita only giggles, tilting Bocchi’s head up to kiss her as well. It was far less sloppy than Ryo’s but she finds herself melting into it all the same.
“You did far more than help, Hitori-chan,” she says, kissing her forehead. Her hair was tangled and there's a bite mark near her collarbone. The implication of it threatens to rile her up all over again. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you!”
Bocchi laughs lowly, the praise going entirely to her hazy mind. She does not hide it. Kita said she was proud of her. Ryo, too, ehehe. She did well.
Kita and Ryo ease into conversation as Hitori continues down from her high. She closes her eyes as she rests, quietly floating in the rare nothingness her mind provides.
The aliens are the ones quiet, staring and gawking as if she’s the one with three heads. She laughs at their surprised looks.
‘Look at her,’ she wants to scream, but her voice is too raspy and hoarse to do anything of the sort. ‘Look at her! It went okay! She was okay! She has screamed her girlfriends’ names to kingdom come, and they still love her! Look at her and grovel at her feet, for she is great and mighty and an absolute beast at sex!’
She takes a second to register her thoughts and mentally grimaces. Maybe that was a bit too exaggerated. She can always work at it. The thought makes her heart flutter.
“Kita,” she croaks. She creaks an eye open to kind Kita’s full attention on her, her hair bobbing as she nods.
“Sorry.” Bocchi’s eyes glance at her to the various fluids on the ground when she cocks her head. “I left a mess.”
Kita’s face is scarily blank as she surveys the mess left underneath Bocchi’s legs. Immediate worry of messing up the floors had sprung in her chest, but a new type of shiver flew across her spine when Kita wordlessly licked her lips. Her gaze changes completely when she meets Bocchi’s gaze again, her kit-aura distracting from whatever was on her mind beforehand.
“That’s okay, Hitori-chan!” she reassures, patting her shoulder. “We can clean it up in no time! You can borrow my pajamas while we wash the tracksuit, too.”
“This is nothing, by the way,” Ryo piques up, her eyes scanning the mess as well. She’s way less reserved in her interests than Kita was, and she couldn’t help but jolt when she looks up and grins. “You should’ve seen what we did back then.”
Kita had gotten the hint as well because she sighs shakily, absentmindedly running her fingers through Bocchi’s hair. “I could never get your stamina, Ryo-senpai. I just want to lie and do nothing for a millennia.”
Ryo shrugs, but moves to embrace Bocchi’s waist, burying her head in her breasts. Bocchi stifles a laugh.
“Oh, woe is me,” she faux sobs, rubbing her head on her tits. “How can I tire when two beautiful girls are constantly with me?”
“You’re so childish, Senpai,” Kita chides with no real venom in her voice. They both end up laughing when she kicks her legs like a toddler.
The three of them end up lying there, lazy and content, for who knows long. Bocchi finds that here – in the middle of her own fluids with two of her adoring, semi-naked girlfriends by her side – she finds the embarrassment was nowhere to be seen. Her anxiety had seemingly vanished.
She knows it is not gone. It will cling to her tomorrow with increased strength, ravaging inside her as if this moment didn’t exist. Her problems with sex aren’t solved either. It still leaves her unimaginably bitter, but still. Still…
“Progress is normal,” the Nijika in her head hums, over and over. “We are always improving as a band when we practice together. This is just that. This is just that.”
“What the fuck,” the very real Nijika gawking at them from the stairwell says after, her gaze sweeping wildly from Bocchi pantless, to Kita in only a skirt and marked with hickeys beside her, to finally Ryo sitting on the floor absolutely butt naked. Her eyes could honestly pop out of their sockets with how wide they were. “Aren't we supposed to design album art today?”
Bocchi surprises even herself when she’s the first to laugh.