Work Text:
The sun beat down on the back of Rumi's neck settling into her skin like it meant to stay. Sweat gathered at the nape where her braid started, dampening the fine hairs that never quite made it into the plait. She could feel the prickle of a burn forming along her shoulders, she'd need to deal with that before the water or she'd pay for it later.
She squeezed a fresh line of sunscreen into her palm and worked it into her shoulder. The repetition soothed her, gave her hands something to do while her brain idled. It was her second coat and likely not her last.
The water was right there. She could hear the waves pulling at the sand, the low crash and drag of it. Behind her, Mira hadn't moved. Rumi could feel her presence stretched out on her towel, sunglasses on, like a cat soaking in a sunspot. She was exactly where she wanted to be.
Rumi dug her thumb into a knot below her collarbone and pressed the sunscreen deeper. One week into hiatus and the tension she carried between her shoulder blades was starting to loosen. On this beach, being half-demon didn't cost her anything. She was just a girl dragging her feet at the edge of the water, with the two people she belonged to by her side. That belonging still caught her off guard when she let herself sit with it.
Zoey's hands closed around both her wrists.
"Rumi."
"I haven't finished."
"You finished a coat ago."
Zoey pulled. Rumi's bare feet skidded in the sand. The sunscreen bottle slipped from her grip and thudded somewhere behind her.
"My braid is gonna get drenched."
"That's the whole point."
Rumi could have held her ground. She outweighed Zoey by enough to make it easy. But she let herself be dragged instead, heels cutting lines through the wet sand, protesting just enough to pretend she didn’t want to go.
The cold hit her ankles first. Then her calves, her thighs, a rush that yanked the breath out of her chest. She sank to her shoulders and braid floating behind her, heavy with salt, dragging against the small of her back. The water was cool against skin the sun had been at for the better part of an hour.
Zoey surfaced beside her, hair plastered to her face, grinning. She swept her arm across the surface and sent a sheet of water directly into Rumi's face.
"Zoey!"
"You looked too peaceful."
Rumi retaliated before she finished thinking about it, scooping water with both hands and launching it. Zoey shrieked and dove under. She came up behind Rumi, grabbed her shoulders, and tried to dunk her. Rumi twisted, caught Zoey around the waist, and they went down together, tangled, laughing, swallowing a little salt water along the way. Zoey's knee found Rumi's ribs and Rumi's elbow found Zoey's hip but neither of them cared.
They surfaced sputtering. Zoey shoved hair from her eyes and lunged, catching Rumi by the shoulders again. Rumi braced her feet against the sandy bottom and held, and for a few seconds they were locked together, grinning, Zoey straining to push her under and Rumi not budging. Zoey's face was close. Water beaded on her eyelashes. Her breath was warm against Rumi's chin.
"You're like a wall," Zoey said, pushing harder and accomplishing nothing.
"You're like a very enthusiastic kitten."
Zoey made an outraged noise and threw her whole weight forward. Rumi let her knees buckle and they both went under again, a tangle of limbs and bubbles.
When Rumi surfaced this time Zoey was a few feet away, catching her breath. The water was at chest height here. Zoey's bikini top shifted during the wrestling, the fabric pulled up on one side, a dusty pink nipple visible above the displaced edge.
Rumi's eyes dropped before her brain had any say in the matter. She looked for maybe a second, maybe less, then snapped her gaze to the waterline and felt heat climb her neck.
Zoey was quiet. When Rumi risked a glance back, looking right at her, with an expression soft and knowing, her lips curled at the corners. "See something you like?"
Rumi's mouth opened. Nothing useful came out.
A wave chose that moment to solve the problem by catching Zoey square in the back. She went under with a yelp and surfaced sputtering again, laughing, and this time when she pushed the hair from her face and looked down, the smile shifted to something practical.
"Okay, my string actually came out this time. Can you retie me?"
She turned her back. The bow at her nape had come undone, the halter strings hanging loose. Water ran down the bare plane of her back, tracing her spine.
"Yeah." Rumi waded forward. "Hold on."
She gathered the strings. Her knuckles pressed into the groove along Zoey's spine. Zoey's skin was warm under her fingers even in the cool water, and Rumi could feel Zoey's shoulder blades shift as she settled her weight. The image of Zoey's chest was still sitting behind Rumi's eyes. She could smell the salt on Zoey's skin. She could feel the heat of Zoey's body radiating through the water between them.
Her fingers fumbled the knot.
The arousal hit as a low pull in her groin, warmth pooling between her legs. But this time the warmth gathered and then shifted, changing shape, to become something solid. A pressure formed against the front of her swim bottoms that felt foreign and like an extension of herself at the same time.
Rumi's hands froze on the string.
The sensation felt familiar, or at least the energy underneath it. It was the same sensation she felt when she summoned her saingeom. The same pull from the same place, the Honmoon reaching through her, answering a call. But she hadn't called it, held no weapon in her hand.
Rumi looked down.
The water was clear enough in the shallows. The shape between her hips was unmistakable, distending the fabric, with the iridescent shimmer of the Honmoon rippling outward through the water.
Her stomach dropped.
"Zoey."
"Hm?"
"Something happened."
Zoey turned. Her eyes traveled down. Up. Down again. "Is that…"
"Don't."
"Rumi, is that a-"
"Please don't."
"A magical Honmoon penis?"
Rumi shut her eyes. Somehow the anatomical name for it was worse than whatever crass vocabulary she originally thought Zoey would say.
"You have a dick," Zoey said.
And there it was.
"How?"
"I think the Honmoon," Rumi swallowed. Her hands dropped instinctively to cover herself, palms pressing against the shape through the fabric. The contact sent a jolt straight through her center that had her gasping. The sensation was bright, as if her hands were on a piece of her body. As if the cock was part of her.
"Oh god," Rumi whispered. Her hands were still on it, and she could feel her own palms, her own fingers, the pressure of each fingertip through the fabric, distinct and real. "Oh god, I think I can feel it."
Zoey turned toward the beach, one hand holding her loosened top in place. "Mira! Hey! Come here!"
Rumi saw Mira lift onto her elbows, sunglasses tipping down her nose as she peered toward them. Zoey waved. Mira stared for a beat, then pushed to her feet and started wading in, unhurried, reading the scene as she closed the distance.
She stopped in front of Rumi. Her eyes went to Rumi's face first.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm fine."
"You're shaking."
"Something happened. I think it's the Honmoon. I don't," Rumi shifted her weight, her hands still pressed flat over herself. "I don't know how to explain it."
Mira's gaze dropped to Rumi's hands. To the shape underneath them, straining against the fabric. She looked at it for a long moment, her expression cycling through something Rumi couldn't track fast enough to name, and then she looked back up at Rumi's face.
"Is that what I think it is?"
"Mira, I swear I didn't."
"Rumi." Mira's voice was calm, warm even. "Breathe."
Rumi tried. She managed half an inhale before her fingers tightened around the shape on their own, reflexive, and the sensation hit her like a live wire. Her breath punched out in a gasp. Her hips rocked forward into her own grip and her face went scarlet.
Mira watched the reaction. The gasp, the involuntary roll of Rumi's hips. Something in Mira's concern gave way to something warmer, something that settled behind her eyes like a slow flame.
She stepped close enough that Rumi could feel the heat of her skin through the water. Mira's hand came up and brushed Rumi's wrist, her touch light, almost lazy, tracing along the tendons of Rumi's forearm. Following the line of Rumi's arm down to where her hand was clenched between her own legs.
"Let go," Mira murmured. Her thumb stroked the inside of Rumi's wrist. "I've got you."
Rumi let go.
“May I?”
Rumi nodded shakily.
Mira's hand replaced hers, wrapping around the shaft through the fabric, and the difference between her own touch and Mira's touch was the difference between striking a match and being set on fire. Her knees buckled. She pitched forward and caught herself on Mira's shoulder, nails biting into skin, and the sound that tore out of her was raw and involuntary, somewhere between a gasp and a moan that she had no chance of swallowing. Her hips jerked forward into Mira's grip before she could stop them, and the shame hit a full second behind the pleasure, flooding her face with heat.
Mira didn't let go. She was looking at Rumi's face.
"You can feel this?" Mira asked in wonder. She read the answer in the way Rumi's body buckled against her.
"She can feel it?" Zoey was at Rumi's side, eyes wide. "Like, feel it feel it?"
"Look at her face, Zoey."
Rumi couldn't argue with the evidence. She was shaking against Mira's shoulder, Mira's hand still firm around the shaft through the thin fabric of the swimsuit. Every beat of her pulse sent a throb through the length of it that echoed somewhere deep behind her navel.
Mira's thumb moved. A slow drag, from the base up to the tip, pressing through the fabric, and Rumi made a sound she would spend the rest of her life trying to unhear. Her legs almost went out entirely. Mira's free hand caught her hip and held her upright.
"It's real," Rumi managed, her voice cracked and breathless. "It's real, it feels real, I can feel you."
Mira did it again. Root to tip, slow, deliberate, her thumb pressing across the head at the end and Rumi's vision turned white at the edges. Rumi's nails dug deeper into Mira's shoulder. A wave of sensation rolled through her and radiated outward through the water, the Honmoon pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
"We need to get out of the water," Zoey said. Her voice had dropped.
Rumi couldn't have argued if she'd wanted to.
They barely made it to the towel.
Rumi went down on her back and the sand lumpy and uneven beneath her but she didn’t care. Mira was right there, kneeling beside her, and when Mira hooked her fingers into the waistband of Rumi's swim bottoms and pulled them down, Rumi lifted her hips to help without a shred of hesitation.
The cock was free. Standing between her hips, flushed and shimmering faintly, the iridescent signature of the Honmoon running through it like a watermark. It looked real. It looked like it belonged to her body, seamless at the base, no edge. Just Rumi, and then this new extension Rumi had.
Mira wrapped her hand around it. Bare skin on what felt like bare skin, and the difference from through the fabric was staggering. Rumi felt every ridge of Mira's palm, every callus, the warmth of her grip closing around the shaft. She arched off the towel with a choked noise and grabbed fistfuls of sand.
Mira stroked slowly. Her grip firm, her pace steady, her eyes fixed on Rumi's face the entire time. She wasn't experimenting. She wasn't tentative. She stroked Rumi's cock with the same focused intensity she brought to everything, reading every flinch and gasp, adjusting her grip, her speed, her pressure, the twist of her wrist at the head.
Rumi couldn't keep her sounds in. She tried, pressing her lips together, biting down, and they leaked out around the edges in whimpers and sharp breaths. Her hips were moving on their own, rolling up into Mira's fist, chasing each stroke.
Zoey settled beside her. Close, warm, her hand finding Rumi's jaw and turning her face. She kissed Rumi, deep and immediate, and Rumi moaned into her mouth.
"How does it feel?" Zoey murmured against her lips.
"Like my clit but different." Rumi's breath hitched. "Like every nerve I have is right there."
The orgasm built faster than Rumi expected. She felt it gathering at the base of the shaft, a tightening coil that wound through her stomach and down through her thighs. It was different from how she usually came. Mira must have seen it in her face because her pace quickened. Rumi broke from the kiss, panting, her hand flying to the back of Mira's neck.
"Mira. I’m gonna"
"I know. It’s okay."
Something gave. The coil snapped and the orgasm that crashed through her was sudden, absolute. Rumi's back arched off the towel, her hips jerked up into Mira's fist and she came with a shudder that rolled through her entire body. Wave after wave, her cock pulsing in Mira's hand as the peak tore through her center and scattered along her nerves.
The Honmoon rippled. A pulse of warmth that radiated outward from Rumi's body and passed through the three of them, bright and incandescent.
Mira stroked her through it. Gentle now, easing the last tremors out of her, until Rumi was twitching and spent and gasping for air.
Rumi blinked at the sky. Her chest was heaving. She could feel her pulse in every part of her body, her heartbeat echoing through the shaft that was still hard between her hips, still there, still hers.
"Holy shit," Rumi breathed.
Mira's thumb traced an idle circle at the base of the shaft. Resting there. Possessive in a way that made Rumi's stomach flip.
Zoey was looking at the cock. Rumi recognized the expression, the bright focus Zoey got right before she committed to something. But when Zoey's eyes came back up to Rumi's face, there was a question in them.
"You okay?"
Rumi huffed a laugh that was mostly air. "I don't even know what okay means right now."
Zoey shifted closer, settling on her knees beside Rumi's hip. Her fingers traced a line along Rumi's thigh tracing along her patterns there. "Think you've got another one in you?"
Rumi's stomach tightened. "Another?"
"Mm-hm." Zoey's hand drifted higher, fingertips brushing the crease of Rumi's hip. She was smiling. A little crooked, her lower lip caught between her teeth. "Because I have a theory I'd really like to test."
Rumi swallowed. Her cock twitched against Mira's idle thumb, which was embarrassing and also completely outside her control. "What kind of theory?"
Zoey leaned down. Her lips brushed the shell of Rumi's ear, her breath warm and close. "The kind where I find out what this feels like from my end."
Rumi's brain went blank for a full second. She felt her pulse hammering in the shaft, Zoey's lips hovering against her ear. Every nerve in her body was voting and the results were a unanimous yes. "Yeah," Rumi managed. Her voice came out rougher than she intended. "Yeah, I think I've got another one."
Zoey pulled back just far enough to look at her. The softness was still there, but the grin had crept back in "For science," Zoey said.
"For science," Rumi agreed. Zoey climbed over her, straddling her hips, and looked down with an expression that made Rumi forget how breathing worked.
Zoey reached behind her neck. Her fingers found the bow Rumi had barely managed to tie back in the water. She pulled the string loose. The bikini top fell away from her chest.
Rumi stared. She couldn't help it. Zoey's breasts were right there, bare and sun-warm, and the sight landed in the same place in Rumi's chest that started all of this. Her cock throbbed between them.
Zoey took Rumi's hand. Lifted it, guided it to her breast, and pressed Rumi's palm flat against her. Rumi felt the weight of her settle into her hand, felt the nipple stiffen against the center of her palm, and her fingers curled on instinct, cupping, squeezing gently. Zoey's eyes fluttered half-shut and she exhaled a soft sound that went straight to the base of Rumi's spine.
"This is what you were looking at," Zoey murmured. "In the water."
Rumi's thumb dragged across her nipple. "I wasn't."
"You were." Zoey smiled down at her, soft and knowing, and reached between them to hook the gusset of her bikini to the side. "And I liked it."
She lined herself up and sank down.
Every word Rumi had ever known left her head.
The sound that came out of her tore from somewhere below thought, guttural and shattered. Her hand tightened on Zoey's breast and the other flew to Zoey's hip, gripping hard. Her head fell back against the towel.
She could feel everything. Every inch. The heat, the pressure, Zoey's body drawing her deeper in slow increments, walls parting around her. Not through a toy. Not secondhand. Direct, nerve to nerve, the Honmoon woven through every point of contact, and Rumi's entire consciousness collapsed to a single burning point, her thumb still pressed to Zoey's nipple, Zoey's hand still covering hers, holding it there.
The first orgasm had been a revelation. This was something else. Being inside Zoey was a full-body immersion, the shaft registered the heat and grip and slick friction of Zoey's body. Rumi could feel the texture of her, the subtle ripple of muscles adjusting around the length, and when Zoey shifted her weight and settled the last inch, Rumi felt it in her teeth.
Zoey started to move. A small roll of her hips, testing, and Rumi's vision blurred. She grabbed for Zoey's thighs, holding on while the rest of her dissolved. Each roll shifted the angle, and Rumi felt Zoey's body grip and release along the length of her, a slow drag that sent sparks scattering through her pelvis and up through her stomach.
Mira moved behind Zoey. Rumi felt her settle there, her chest pressed against Zoey's back, her chin hooked over Zoey's shoulder. Mira's mouth found the side of Zoey's neck and Zoey's breath stuttered, her rhythm faltering for a beat before she picked it back up. One of Mira's hands slid around to cup Zoey's other breast, thumb dragging over the nipple. Zoey rocked her hips harder in response, driving down onto Rumi with a force that made both of them gasp.
Rumi watched through half-closed eyes. Mira's lips on Zoey's throat, painting slow kisses up to the hinge of her jaw. Mira's hand kneading Zoey's breast while Rumi's still held the other. Zoey caught between them with her head tipping back against Mira's shoulder, her mouth falling open on a sound that Rumi wanted to chase. To hear again and again until Zoey was hoarse.
The three of them were locked together. Rumi inside Zoey. Mira wrapped around her from behind. Every sensation feeding into the next, an unbroken circuit, and Rumi felt like her body couldn't contain it all at once.
Zoey found a rhythm. Each roll of her hips sent a bolt through Rumi's spine and Mira matched it, rocking against Zoey's back, her teeth grazing the line of Zoey's shoulder. Rumi's hand slid from Zoey's breast to her hip, pulling her down on the next stroke, needing her closer, needing more of this, and Zoey gave it to her, grinding deep, her body clenching around Rumi in a way that made Rumi's vision swim.
"Look at me," Mira said.
Rumi opened her eyes. She hadn't realized she'd closed them. Mira had leaned around Zoey, close enough for Rumi to see gold flecks in her irises. She kissed Rumi. It was imperfect, noses bumping, teeth clacking, and the sound Rumi made against Mira's lips was the most honest thing that had ever come out of her.
Zoey was close. Rumi could feel it in the way her rhythm faltered, faster but less controlled, Zoey's thighs squeezing her sides. Each downstroke sent Rumi deeper. Rumi was close too. She could feel it building at the base of the shaft, gathering through her stomach and her thighs, her whole body tightening around something too big to hold.
Mira's hand slid from Zoey's breast to her hip, pulling her down harder on the next stroke, helping her along at a new angle, and Rumi felt the head of the cock hit something spongy inside Zoey that made both of them cry out at the same time. Zoey ground down against it, chasing the sensation. Rumi felt the echo of it everywhere.
Rumi broke.
Her back bowed off the towel and she cried out. The Honmoon carried it like current through water, connecting them everywhere they touched. Zoey's body tightened around her, her body pitching forward with a breathless sound, half laugh, half sob. Rumi felt Zoey's orgasm clench around the shaft in waves that pulled more pleasure from her, each contraction wringing another aftershock out of her. For a few endless seconds they were caught in a loop, feeding off each other, cresting and cresting.
Mira held them. Her hands on Zoey's hips, her forehead pressed to the back of Zoey's neck, breathing with them.
Nobody moved.
Rumi lay on her back, chest heaving. She could feel Zoey's body still pulsing around her in slow, fading contractions, the cock buried deep, Zoey's weight settled against her hips. Zoey's forehead found Rumi's collarbone and she went boneless, trembling, and the feeling of her so close, so open, still stretched around this impossible thing the Honmoon had made, brought a lump to Rumi's throat she didn't expect. Mira was behind Zoey, her breath falling warm against the knobs of Zoey's spine.
The three of them breathed together. In. Out. In. Out. Rumi could feel the rhythm syncing, her inhale catching Zoey's, Zoey's catching Mira's, until their chests rose and fell in the same slow cadence. The sun was warm on Rumi's skin. The waves were still rolling in somewhere behind them. Rumi let herself be here. Feeling the weight of them, and the pulse of the Honmoon, and the warmth of the sand, and the fact that she was loved by two people who had just watched her exposed and hadn't looked away.
The Honmoon hummed. A vibration in the barrier, in their bond, in whatever they'd made that none of them understood yet. It pulsed once, warm and iridescent, and then settled.
The cock was still inside Zoey. Rumi could feel it softening, the urgency ebbing, the Honmoon's energy slowly withdrawing like a tide going out. Zoey shifted against her chest and they both felt it at the same time, the last pulse fading. Zoey exhaled softly and lifted her hips, and where the cock had been there was nothing. Just Rumi. Swim bottoms around her thighs. Sand in places she'd regret later.
Nobody spoke for a long time.
Rumi let her eyes close. Her brain was quiet, tangled up with the weight of her girls on top of her.
Zoey lifted her head. Her hair was wrecked. She was grinning.
"So," Zoey said. "What just happened."
Rumi exhaled a laugh that came from somewhere deep. "I have no idea."
"The Honmoon just grew you a dick."
"I'm aware."
"And I could feel it. Inside me." Zoey sat up, eyes bright. "What if it can do other things?"
Mira shifted, stretching out beside Rumi and propping her head on her hand. She hadn't said anything yet. She looked at Rumi with an expression Rumi couldn't quite read, her thumb tracing the line of Rumi's knuckles before she laced their fingers together.
"What if it answers differently for each of us?" Zoey was sitting cross-legged now, fully upright, sand cascading from her hair. "What if Mira gets one? What if I do? What if it does different shapes?"
"Shapes?"
"Or sizes, or what if it only works with physical contact, what if intent changes what it makes." Zoey paused. Her eyes lit up. "Oh. Do you think it can vibrate?"
Rumi groaned. Covered her face with both hands. Beside her, Mira laughed.
"What do you think?" Rumi asked, peering through her fingers at Mira.
Mira's thumb stilled against her skin. She was quiet for a moment.
"I think," Mira said, "we have three months and a private beach and a lot of questions."