Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1038388.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Dangan_Ronpa
  Relationship:
      Ikusaba_Mukuro/Kirigiri_Kyouko
  Character:
      Ikusaba_Mukuro, Kirigiri_Kyouko
  Additional Tags:
      Bondage
  Collections:
      Femslash_Exchange_2013
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-10 Words: 1721
****** Bound in Shallows ******
by Miss_Prince
Summary
     Mukuro continues to explore her… whatever it is she's doing with
     Kirigiri.
Notes
     Based on stockingsandseams's own All_Hot_and_Bleeding. I loved your
     fic and I had grand plans, but this is what I ended up with. I hope
     it's somewhat enjoyable, at least?
"What do you think?"
Mukuro considers her position: nude, on her bed, lying back with a broom handle
across her shoulders and her arms outstretched along it, her legs curled
beneath and behind her, back arched to help her get her feet as close to her
shoulders as she can manage. It's certainly not the most comfortable state
she's ever been in, but it's not the least comfortable either.
"I think," she says, "that this escalated quickly."
Kirigiri blinks at her and tilts her head. Her jacket is slung over the back of
the chair across the room along with her tie, and her shirt is partly unzipped
and her sleeves rolled up to the elbows, but she doesn't seem inclined to
undress any further than that. "We could try something else, if this is too
much," she says, her face utterly calm. Mukuro has been studying her, though,
ever since it became clear that Kirigiri was studying her, and she can see the
hint of tension that builds in Kirigiri's shoulders.
"No, this is fine." She concentrates, wriggles, and manages to shift her legs
up another inch. They've mostly stuck to simpler things so far: hands tied to
the headboard, or bound behind her back. This position is a lot more
compromising, and it leaves Mukuro with far fewer options for escape should it
become necessary. She flexes against the broom handle. If she really needed to
-- if she was really desperate -- she could probably manage the strength to
snap it in half. Best not to take chances, though. She makes her hands into
fists and rests them against the handle. "I'm ready."
Kirigiri obliges, picking up a length of rope and tying Mukuro's left wrist to
the broom handle. She leaves the knot considerately near her thumb, where with
a little finagling Mukuro could probably manage to undo it. It won't be
necessary, though: she lets her fist go slack, blades her hand, and… yes,
there's just enough room for her to simply slip loose if she needs to. She
relaxes.
Her other wrist is tied, then her ankles, one by one. Kirigiri nudges them
apart a bit, ties them wide so that Mukuro has no choice but to spread her
knees and leave herself open and exposed. She fusses a little until Mukuro is
positioned exactly the way she wants her, and then she sits back and surveys
her handiwork.
As vulnerable as it makes her, when her last limb is bound Mukuro feels a
profound sense of calm wash over her. The rope takes up some of the work of
holding her in place, so she can relax her muscles a little, but more than
that, it's the sense that she doesn't have to act, doesn't have to think
anymore. She can't be expected to do much in this state, after all. A pleasant
fuzz settles over her mind.
Apparently satisfied, Kirigiri leans over from the side and kisses her.
Kirigiri's kisses tend to be languid and lazy, deep and slow. Mukuro has never
had another lover who kissed her like Kyouko Kirigiri does, and she's coming to
rather enjoy it. She opens readily for Kirigiri to explore, which she does,
thoroughly and at her leisure. As she pulls away, she presses one last soft
kiss to the corner of Mukuro's mouth, and there's such an odd sweetness to the
gesture that Mukuro feels the barest flicker of a smile form in response.
Kirigiri pulls back, sits up on her knees and just looks at her, eyes sweeping
over her body as though memorizing its every plane and angle -- and Mukuro
can't be entirely sure sure she isn't doing exactly that. It's… disconcerting,
in some ways. She feels supremely exposed with that gaze sweeping over her...
and it's in moments like this that she's most keenly aware of her foolhardiness
in allowing these intimate moments with Kirigiri to continue, in allowing them
to have started at all. Kirigiri, as she well knows even without Junko's
constant reminders, is dangerous. Mukuro's not particularly concerned that
Kirigiri might turn on her, reach under her pillow and find the gun and blow
Mukuro away. No, it's just that she's so… observant. So relentless. She says
things sometimes -- she talks more during sex than Mukuro had ever expected she
would -- things that demonstrate just how closely Kirigiri is scrutinizing her,
just how carefully she has to tread if she wants to avoid revealing something
she shouldn't.
"You're thinking awfully hard tonight," Kirigiri murmurs, and finally reaches
out to drag one leather-clad finger over Mukuro's abs. Mukuro shivers at the
sensation. "Look at me."
Mukuro does. Kirigiri has put a lot of work into being inscrutable, but Mukuro
can see the extra tinge of brightness in her gaze. She has the kind of stare
that's hard to meet, but Mukuro is well-practiced in never flinching, so she
holds her gaze steady.
After a long pause, Kirigiri's hand resumes its movement, tracing lines,
circles, idle patterns up and down her chest, across her stomach. "The eyes are
the window to the soul, they say," she says conversationally.
Kirigiri isn't given to be poetic, exactly, even if she is fond of metaphors
that stretch beyond Mukuro's ability to understand. She considers. "Are they?"
"Hmm." She flips her hand over to trace a line down the middle of Mukuro's
chest once more, and her muscles twitch at the sensation of the cold metal
studs against her skin. She likes it when Kirigiri does that. "There's more
truth to it than you might think."
She still hasn't broken eye contact, and Mukuro hasn't been given new
instructions, so she doesn't either. She waits for Kirigiri to continue.
"The mask of the face," she says, and reaches out with one gloved hand to trace
a delicate path from the bridge of Mukuro's nose, down along her cheekbone and
up around her left eye, across her forehead, down and around her right eye to
end back on the bridge of her nose, "contains a fairly complex network of
muscles. Humans are surprisingly adept at reading the shifts in these muscles
and interpreting an emotional state from them." She moves her hand to cup
Mukuro's cheek, and Mukuro leans into the touch. "Some people are harder to
read than others, but if you watch closely enough, you can still see those
little shifts and motions."
Despite her pleasure at the cool leather against her cheek, the words make
Mukuro suddenly wary. She feels scrutinized again, and this time it's not her
body on display, but her thoughts, and that is so much worse.
Kirigiri's brow furrows slightly. "Did that offend you? That wasn't my
intention."
It's even more disturbing to be read so easily, but Mukuro shakes her head as
best she can without losing eye contact.
Kirigiri seems unconvinced. She lets her hand trail down to cup Mukuro's
breast, and at last she is the one to break her gaze away. She looks down at
her hand on Mukuro's body, moves it to flick her thumb over Mukuro's nipple. "I
only meant," she says carefully, "that… you have very expressive eyes, no
matter what people might tell you." She reaches up to tuck a lock of hair
behind her ear.
"Liar," Mukuro says.
Kirigiri starts, then seems to notice her own hand on her hair and relaxes.
"I'm not lying. I told you, this is a different tell." She meets Mukuro's gaze
again. "Have you figured it out yet?"
Kirigiri's face is calm, but Mukuro can see the ghost of a smile so faint that
her mouth hasn't moved. She hasn't figured it out, but maybe she does
understand what Kirigiri was trying to say about eyes. And maybe she has been
watching Kirigiri more closely lately, picking up all the subtleties of her
facial expressions she never noticed before. Maybe this doesn't have to be an
interrogation -- and Mukuro doesn't want it to be, would like to stop thinking
now and just enjoy Kirigiri's hands on her body and the slow burn in her
muscles from being bent and tied the way she is.
When Mukuro doesn't respond, Kirigiri breaks eye contact again, this time to
lean down and begin pressing soft kisses to Mukuro's stomach, her chest, up
along her breast until Mukuro's other nipple is engulfed in warm and wet, and
Mukuro sighs with satisfaction.
Kirigiri's hand finally travels downward with purpose and reaches between
Mukuro's legs. She runs two leather-clad fingers through the slickness she
finds there, dances them teasingly around her clit, and Mukuro is suddenly
aware of how turned on she is, how easy it is for Kirigiri's touch to do this
to her, how good she always makes her feel, once the conversation slows and
there's nothing left but hands on bodies.
Kirigiri's mouth travels downward now, too, as she flips her hand over to rock
the back of her hand against Mukuro, the pricks of cold metal sending thrills
shooting through her body. And then Kirigiri's lips close around her clit, and
her hand continues to rock, and it's barely any time at all before Mukuro
letting go, shuddering and bucking as best she can against Kirigiri's mouth and
hands.
When the feeling finally subsides, Mukuro feels boneless, lightheaded, but her
position makes it impossible to relax, not until Kirigiri lets her go. Kirigiri
leans against her leg for a moment, pressing lazy kisses against her inner
thigh, but eventually rises to release Mukuro from her bonds.
The moment is over, and Kirigiri never lingers long. Mukuro feels a pang of
disappointment at the thought, but it's for the best, isn't it? Can't get too
attached, can't leave herself too vulnerable.
Still, Kirigiri hesitates a moment. "If you'd like," she says slowly, "we could
use my room next time."
They haven't yet, and the thought adds warmth the Mukuro's already pleasant
glow. "I'd like that, yeah," she murmurs.
Kirigiri smiles -- and this time it is enough to twitch her lips upwards -- and
leans down to kiss her again, which Mukuro is perfectly happy to allow. "Have a
good night."
"Good night, Kirigiri-san."
And with that, Kirigiri is donning her jacket and tie, straightening her
clothes, smoothing her hair, and moments later she is gone, the door clicking
shut behind her.
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