Felt Her Watching

For: ele5 who requested au first-time adult girlzukafuji femmeslash smut. I couldn't refuse my belated birthday girl.


Tezuka almost declines when her co-worker asks her if she wants to come over for drinks after work. After all, there’s still work the next day, and she doesn’t like interacting with most of the office ladies.

Fuji smiles at her with a slight quirk of her lips and tells her, sweetly as she can, which isn’t much, “Just a glass of wine, Tezuka-san. I’m not going to force-feed you sake.”

She opens her mouth to decline, like she’s declined every other girl in the office at one time or another, but instead says, “Fine, Fuji-san.”

As they get ready to leave, Tezuka sees Atobe Keiko giving Fuji a venomous glare, and she suddenly wishes that Fuji hadn’t asked where everyone else could hear. Atobe has asked her to her place more than a few times, and each time she politely, but firmly, refuses. It’s not as if she’s blind to the looks Atobe gives her, but she doesn’t think it’s proper to consort with her boss in such a manner.

They get on the bus together and, luckily, it’s not packed. However, there’s only one open seat.

Fuji motions for her to take the seat, and Tezuka raises an eyebrow. Fuji’s at least a head shorter than her, slighter as well. “I can sit on your lap if it gets too crowded,” Fuji says then, and Tezuka sits down peevishly in response. It’s only when she’s sitting that she realises just how short Fuji’s skirt is and she can’t quite believe that she wears clothes like that for work.

Thankfully, Fuji only lives three stops away and they’re able to get off just as four rather disgustingly leering men get on the bus. One of them tries to smack Fuji on the arse, but her hand is quicker than his, and she can see the prettily painted nails dig into his wrist until he concedes to her. Tezuka finds herself impressed, despite herself, and follows her off the bus.


Tezuka is mildly surprised by Fuji’s small apartment. She doesn’t know exactly what she expected, but she didn’t expect it to be so, well, nice. Fuji has a pair of new slippers waiting by the door for her and Tezuka wonders how Fuji knew that Tezuka would accept her invitation.

“Sit down, and I’ll get the wine,” Fuji says as she gestures vaguely to the white sofa near the window of the living room. It has a dark blue throw over the back, angled in such a way that suggests it gets little use and is more for decoration than anything else.

Tezuka sits down rather primly and finds herself sinking into the soft cushions. She has to scoot back a little just to sit properly, but she thinks to herself that this is just the sort of decadent furniture that Fuji would have. Her own sofa is stiff, blue, and was given to her by her father when she decided to eschew the many omais her mother wanted her to have and instead went to work at Atobe Keiko’s office.

When Fuji returns, she has two glasses of wine in one hand, cautiously crossing them at the stems, and a small white box in the other. She hands Tezuka her glass, places the box on the floor and sits down next to her. Close, almost too close, but Tezuka can’t easily move away without being too obvious, so she stays still and takes a sip.

Fuji closes her eyes with her first sip and Tezuka finds herself staring as she swallows. They don’t interact much at work. She knows that Fuji’s not one of those girls who gossip and cause trouble like that Oishi Shuuko and Kikumaru Eiko who stand around listening to Inui Misao, who has every single piece of information possible about everyone and everything written in labeled and ordered black books, and is more entertaining than daily soaps, if you like that sort of thing.

However, she’s not that hard of a worker either, and prefers to spend her time drawing doodles on company paper whenever Atobe’s in the room, only working when she leaves. In that, Fuji’s a direct contradiction to almost everyone else in the office, and that alone makes her intriguing enough to learn more about.

“So, Tezuka-san, how long do you plan on working at the office?” Fuji asks after a few moments of silence. The question is surprising. She doesn't think that Fuji cares of such things one way or another, but she'll respond nonetheless.

“I have no plans to leave as of yet,” she answers vaguely. She’s been saving her earnings to open her own business, and her father’s only willing to pay for her flat and nothing more.

Fuji gives her a look, and says, “The only way to advance is between Atobe’s legs.”

She wishes she could pretend to feel a small amount of shock at Fuji’s directness, but it’s not like she doesn’t already know. “Do you come by this knowledge personally?”

With small laugh, Fuji shakes her head. “I have no interest in her at all.” Something in her tone, Tezuka can sense, says that her interest lies elsewhere.

“Not even for promotion?” Tezuka presses, wondering why she even cares as she does.

Slightly lifting her shoulders, Fuji shrugs. “I don’t care about promotions, or Atobe, but it’s not for lack of her trying.”

Tezuka finds herself smiling just a little as she sips her wine. She’s not one for gossip, but everyone knows of the incident regarding Atobe’s wandering fingers on Fuji’s thigh because Atobe sported a bright-red mark on her face for about two hours until her girlfriend, Kabaji, was able to cover it with makeup.

Fuji drains her wine, sets the glass on the floor, and picks up the white box Tezuka has all but forgotten about. When she opens it, Tezuka’s only slightly surprised to see a number of fancy chocolates.

“Have one,” Fuji says, offering the box invitingly. Tezuka unmindfully places her hand on her tummy, and declines.

“Are you sure?” Fuji presses, and lifts a spectacular one out of the box.

She wants to reply with how careless it is to eat sweets when Fuji takes a small bite into the chocolate in her hand, and the chocolate smears on her lips. Tezuka watches the way her tongue darts out to lick at it and she finds that can’t drag her eyes away.

Fuji just sets down the box in time before Tezuka finds herself moving the sparse few inches to kiss her. Fuji tastes of chocolate and wine, and Tezuka can feel Fuji’s hand on her thigh as she they continue to kiss, tongues mingling, boundaries blurring.

Tezuka pulls back briefly, feeling both disorientation and shock. She’s never been so forward before, but she knows that she’ll kiss Fuji again, if Fuji lets her. Fuji kneels on her couch, sinking into the cushions and takes the glass from her unresisting hand. She can’t even follow where Fuji places it because Fuji’s in her lap now, taking off her glasses, and putting them aside as well.

There’s a moment when Fuji pauses and Tezuka doesn’t know if it’s to give her the opportunity to stop or because Fuji’s having second thoughts. It doesn’t really matter, Tezuka decides, because she doesn’t want Fuji thinking either.

Fuji’s fingers are in her hair, dislodging her carefully placed pins and barrettes, which are now scattered about the couch. In response, she put her hands on Fuji’s hips, feeling the skin, soft and warm, above the waistline of her too short skirt. Fuji’s lips find their way to her neck, and she can feel a warm buzz in the pit of her stomach that has nothing to do with wine and everything to do with the fingers that are unbuttoning her shirt, slipping it off, and tentatively making their way underneath her bra.

Her shirt's somewhere else, and her bra as well, but Tezuka doesn't care because Fuji's tongue is dragging slowly across one of her nipples. She gasps and sends Fuji's shirt and bra down with her own, not worrying even slightly if she tore the silk. Fuji's teeth are grazing against her nipples and everything she felt in her belly drops between her thighs, making her warm and wet and wanting to squirm.

It's the wine's fault, she thinks as she runs her hands up Fuji's legs. They're still in those silk stockings she wears to work, but she still finds it surprising when she hits the tops of them, and the thin suspenders that are connecting them to a lacy garter. She pushes the skirt up, bunching it around Fuji's waist, and wonders just sinful Fuji looks now.

"Tezuka," Fuji says now, lips tickling her as she speaks. She leans back, letting the cool air prickle across her wet skin. She reaches behind herself, and unzips the back of her skirt, letting it pool around her knees, where it's stopped only by Tezuka's lap. Fuji gets up, then, kicking the skirt away and Tezuka stares at her, and ceases to wonder about anything at all. Fuji may be wearing a garter, suspenders and an expensive pair of stockings, but she's not wearing any knickers at all and that only serves to make Tezuka's uncomfortable, damp, and rubbing against her in ways she's never allowed herself to imagine before.

Fuji kneels in front of her, unzipping her skirt, pulling it down, tossing it away, with her slip, stockings and knickers, and the air is wonderfully cool against her now. Fuji pushes her legs open, and she rests her head on Tezuka's thigh.

"Mitsumi," Fuji says then, being utterly presumptuous, but she can't form a protest because Fuji's tongue is running along her thigh, and her fingers are dancing along her labia, teasing her until she can't help but move into the touch. Fuji's fingers and tongue are inside her, rubbing and licking and she wants to moan, but refuses to let herself, and bites her lip instead.

Minutes later, Tezuka's tugging Fuji back into her lap, kissing her ferociously, and not at all caring about the way she tastes on Fuji's tongue. She grips Fuji's hip with one hand, thrusting her fingers inside of Fuji with the other, and watches the way Fuji's breath catches just so whenever her thumb rubs against her.

Tezuka doesn't know why she bites Fuji the first time, but she knows why she does it again and again. The sudden gasp that comes out is one reason, the way she rubs up against Tezuka's body is another, but mostly it's because she begs and Tezuka knows that she's likely the only one ever to bear witness to such an event.

She bites Fuji's neck, her collarbone, her breasts, all the while feeling the way Fuji's lips form the word please over and over against her skin. Fuji collapses against her, and she holds her for only a few seconds before she pushes Fuji back against the couch, pressing her thigh between Fuji's legs, and watches as Fuji arches against her.

Fuji smiles at her now, and Tezuka knows that she's never seen that one before, and decides that she needs to know if there are more smiles she's never seen. It's only in this moment of stillness that allows Fuji the time to reach up and pull Tezuka back down on top of her.

Biting her once more, Tezuka hears as Fuji practically breathes out her name, "Mitsumi.

Tezuka bites her nipple extra hard, and lifts her lips long enough to say, "Fuji-san," in response, with a particular emphasis that is hard to miss.

Yanking on her hair, Fuji isn't quite ready to concede that point. "You can call me Shuu, of course."

The need to argue rises inside of her, but it's quickly quelled by way Fuji kisses her at that exact moment, biting her lips just enough to make her bite back. There are fingers in her hair, now, making it more of a mess than it already was, but she doesn't even bother to stop Fuji because her fingers are tracing the inside of her thigh.


Waking the next morning, Tezuka finds Fuji sprawled atop of her still sleeping, and not looking in any hurry to wake. The clock is too blurry to read, but her glasses are elsewhere, and she's not in any position to find them. She can see many red marks all over Fuji's skin and her cheeks try to match the shade. Tezuka wishes for a moment that the wine were to blame, or even the chocolate, but she sees no point in lying, least of all to herself.

If she's caught Fuji staring at her at work, it's only because she spends too much time looking at Fuji in the first place. They're still touching, sticky, wet, and naked on Fuji's white couch, and it's no doubt soon time to get ready to go to work. Fuji turns in her sleep, lips brushing against her skin as she does, and Tezuka reaches up and grabs the throw on the back of the couch, and covers them both.