Chapter Text
"Hey Rumi? Can you come here a sec?"
Mira's voice drifted from her bedroom, and Rumi thought nothing of it as she pushed the door open, "Yeah?"
It was the last word she remembered how to speak since Mira was topless. Too late for Rumi to stop her, she turned around and planted a hand on her hip, "Can I borrow your lip gloss? That lavender one."
Rumi had, of course, seen bits and pieces of Mira. Mira's abs in costumes or working out. Her shoulders and arms. All the utter perfection that was Mira.
Except apparently not all the utter perfection. What she'd never seen before were her breasts. Perfect handfuls wait why was she thinking of them like that and—
"Why…why are your nipples. What is… are those…?" Cheeks burning, Rumi wondered if this was what a stroke felt like.
Mira looked down at herself, then back up at Rumi with an amused expression, "I've had these for years, you can't tell me you never noticed."
"I don't go making a habit of staring at your breasts," Rumi managed to choke out. Something she was absolutely failing in the moment. The not staring thing. Because she couldn't tear her eyes away.
She told herself it was just unusual and different and that was all and with what willpower she had left she turned on her heel and walked out.
"Lip gloss!"
"Got it!" She shut the door behind her, then rushed to her room. It took her a moment to find the requested lip gloss even though it was right in front of her.
She couldn't get the sight of Mira out of her mind.
Nipple piercings.
What the fuck.
They'd looked good too. Simple silver bars but they'd looked good and something deep in Rumi's stomach had tightened and shifted.
She wondered if Mira wore them during performances or interviews — it wasn't like any of their costumes would have shown anything. If they had, she'd have heard about it and their socials would not have weathered that storm. But wouldn't it hurt? Rub her raw? Did it feel good?
Mira had had many large rebellions over the years but maybe this was simply a smaller one.
And good god a part of her understood. Even more than the somewhat overwhelming desire lancing through her was the even more overwhelming and plaintive need to have some level of control over her own body.
Mark it with her own rebellions rather than marked by the mistake of her birth.
Rumi caught herself hiking her sleeve up, and stared at her patterns. As long as she had these, she had no control over her body. She couldn't rebel. Unusual piercings. Tattoos. Just stuck with long sleeves when all she really wanted was to feel the air on her skin and maybe someone's hand.
…Could she pass them off as tattoos?
She'd just yanked her sleeve down when she heard a knock on her door, "I'm coming!"
"Hey Rumi, can I borrow your lavender lip gloss?" Zoey was waiting when she opened the door and she looked extra pretty half made up and still in her pajamas. So much so that Rumi stared at her with a ridiculous smile on her face.
"Rumi?"
"You'll have to get in line." Rumi shook herself, "Mira called it first."
"Then lets go!" She grabbed Rumi's hand and dragged her to Mira's room, not even bothering to knock. The door was open before Rumi could try to warn her about Mira's state of undress and nipples.
(Un)fortunately Mira had deigned to put a bra on and Rumi did not quite conceal the disappointment she felt. Worse, Mira's smirk gave Rumi the impression she'd noticed.
"I'm getting some weird vibes," Zoey said, looking between them.
"Mira has nipple piercings," Rumi blurted midway through handing Mira the lipgloss.
Zoey's head swiveled like something from a horror movie and her wide eyes stared Mira down, "Bra! Off! Now!"
Mira snatched the lipgloss from Rumi's hand, "Sure, but I want to hear it from Rumi."
"I'm not going to ask you to take your bra off!"
"You're not because I want to hear you beg."
Zoey licked her lips and eyed Rumi pleadingly, "I kind of want to hear that too."
Rumi opened her mouth to say no, "Please take your bra off."
Betrayed by her own mouth!
"Since you begged so nicely," Mira unhooked her bra and tossed it onto the bed. "I can't believe neither of you ever noticed. Zoey, we go to the bathhouse together."
"Yeah but I'm usually trying not to stare at your tits," Zoey said, while staring at her chest. "Do they hurt? Does it feel good? Have you ever tried running a chain between them because that would be super hot."
"What if I want you to—" Mira cut herself off, face reddening. "No, yes and I'm sorry what?"
"Like get loops and hook a thin little dangly chain between them," Zoey said, her hands moving like she was tracing the shape of the chain. "It would look really beautiful I think, especially when paired with additional body jewelry. Like really thin small chains, no thicker than what you usually wear for your necklaces. Obviously we can't do like naked photoshoots like that but…"
Zoey bounced on her heels, "Like I can see the whole look, super gorgeous Mira with those chains and more around her waist and hip."
"It would look beautiful," Rumi agreed, voice strained, hands clasped tightly behind her back. She could see Zoey's vision and was trying not to imaging running her fingers underneath those chains.
"So gold for Mira, yeah?" Zoey turned her eyes to Rumi, "Silver on Rumi, I think. I know you're our golden girl but I think silver would be stunning on you."
"W-wait." Rumi took a step back, "… really?"
"Zoey's not wrong, it really would be stunning," Mira agreed. "And gold for Zoey."
Why were they discussing this like they were going to do it and why was Rumi into the idea?
She blew air out of her nose but before she could answer Zoey stripped her top off and was patting her own breasts. Mira ran her hip into her dresser and cursed and Rumi had to grab the open door frame to keep from falling over. Zoey's breasts were a little smaller than Mira's, but still looked like they'd be great fun to play with why was she having these thoughts?
Was that even an option? Of course girls were an option just she hadn't realized for herself.
"Yeah, I think gold," Zoey said, a knowing grin on her face. her eyes flicked to Mira, "Can I touch them?"
WHAT.
Rumi inhaled sharply, fully intent on telling them to knock it off and finish getting dressed, "I saw them first!"
Her mouth.
Betraying her again.
Flustered, Mira looked between them, licked her lips and said, "I've got one boob for each of you."
That actually made Zoey go still. Like she hadn't expected that answer and now that she'd caught the car she wasn't sure why she'd been chasing it.
At least that was what Rumi was feeling as Mira's words —no challenge— sank in. She had no idea how they'd gotten here but now that they were here she wasn't sure she could back down.
Rumi's feet operated against her will. Mira made a sort of 'go head gesture' and Zoey immediately groped her left breast, just taking an entire handful in her right hand. Mira clearly hadn't expected that but anything she might have said was cut off by a strangled choking sound when Rumi did the same to her other breast.
It was actually really nice. Rumi immediately noted not just the difference between the metal bars and her skin, but the texture differences between skin, areola and her nipple. The general give and feel of it. Without thinking, Rumi took one of Zoey's breasts with her other hand, reasoning that she needed a comparison between pierced and not. She squeezed both experimentally with a dazed smile on her lips.
In hindsight, none of this probably was the best idea Rumi had ever had but her brain refused to function at normal capacity and hadn't since she'd walked in on Mira.
Zoey shivered under her hand, biting back a sound that made Rumi's toes curl. Mira's mouth hung open for a moment, and then she grabbed Zoey's free breast too, "Nice."
"Thanks," Zoey squeaked.
"I uhm," Rumi was going to faint as her brain finally caught up to what she'd done. "I just, you have and she doesn't and … comparing? Contrasting?"
Should she let go? Would it be impolite to let go at this point? Impolite to not? What was the etiquette for groping the breasts of your best friends?
"No I get it," Mira said in a voice that sounded like she needed air. "But it's only fair if we get to compare yours too."
"Yep." Zoey agreed.
Rumi froze, torn between the very real curiosity of what that might feel like and the very real fear of discovery. Curiosity overrode fear long enough for her to try to thread the needle, "Only if the hoodie stays on?"
Okay she actually meant to say that. She'd come this far and didn't want to back down now, though she'd need to escape if they insisted.
Mira's eyes sharpened and she looked closely at Rumi and for half a second Rumi felt the urge to tell them surge through her.
Sure, tell them you've got patterns while you're groping them.
"It's okay Rumi," Zoey said. "I'd really like to see how beautiful you are but I know you feel more comfortable like this and that's more important."
She didn't, god she didn't, she hated it, it was confining, constricting, too warm she wanted nothing more than to tear her clothing off and let them see her.
"Same," Mira agreed. "Both things."
They wanted to see her topless? God, if that wasn't a knife to the heart, "Thank you."
Mira's hand touched her waist first, sliding under the fabric and then up. She had to get closer, which only made the state of everything worse. But her touch felt electric and Rumi gasped as Mira's fingers hesitated at her ribs before she gently cupped her breast. Zoey moved nearly as slowly, trailing her fingers along Rumi's stomach, then along her ribcage before cupping and squeezing the other breast.
Mira looked like she wanted to cry and not necessarily in a bad way and Zoey was staring at her face with this utter devotion that threatened to wreck Rumi.
This was fine, she had a handful of her best friends and they had a handful of her and were looking at her like she was actually worthy of their touch and—
Their touch was making her tremble.
"Rumi," Mira murmured, letting go of Zoey to touch her cheek. "Do you need to stop?"
Rumi let go of both of them, pressing her hands over theirs on her chest and holding them there because their hands on her skin had woken a need in her that she couldn't put back in the bottle and she didn't want them to let go yet.
She needed. Needed to just be touched and she'd made a mistake, because now that she'd felt this she didn't know how she could go back.
"You could tell us anything, you know." Zoey leaned against her, now also fully focused on her. And it was not enough. Rumi felt greedy, wanting more. Because she wanted more. She wanted them to touch her back, and her arms, wanted to feel their fingers on her throat or tracing her leg. Just the feel of their hands on her skin.
Rumi squeezed their hands once, then nudged their arms until they let go and slid their hands out from under her hoodie. She looked down at those hands, still hanging in the air between them with a longing that was impossible to disguise.
"So this was great," She rasped, backing into the hallway and committing the sight of them to memory, "Lets do the body chain stuff once we make the Golden Honmoon! Keepthelipgloss." And then she fled to the relative safety of her own room, closing and locking the door before she tore her hoodie and shirt off to relieve herself of how suffocating they'd become.
Stumbling into her bathroom, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, at the patterns that scarred her skin. Silver would look good. But their hands would look better.
Tears flowing freely, she slid her hands up her own body and gently squeezed herself before she wrapped her arms around her shoulders and sobbed, the memory of their touch etched into her skin as surely as her patterns.