The water was cold. It was always cold. She wouldn’t bother with hot water, there wasn’t any need. She had always sneered at the girls who lowered themselves into the bath with groans of agony and relief. They were all weak. Pain was part of training – an important part.
The water poured over her head, and she ran her fingers into her hair, flattening it out under the frigid stream. Shaking her head with a low noise, she switched the water off and took the soap in her hands. The lather was harsh on her skin, just the way she liked it. She watched her hands move over her body, enjoying the feeling of taut muscles and tight skin. It would be ridiculous to say that she did not enjoy her own body – its shape, its strength, its endurance, these were things she had worked hard for, worked hard to maintain and they made her feel powerful. And power was good.
Her eyes narrowed. Power. Something she had known right from the start when she came to that place to train. The weak little girls around her had never been any challenge, not until she had met…her. Lahrri…Mylandah ground out the name, even in her thoughts. Lahrri Feldnut, former teammate, former rival. Mylandah couldn’t very well call her a friend, could she? Compatriot, maybe. Her hands paused in their motions. Role model, possibly. Mylandah’s eyes closed. In her inner eye, she saw Lahrri at practice, the perfect machine-like motions in her running, the play of muscles under her skin…. Mylandah ground her teeth at the soft noise that she made at the thought.
Object of desire? Ridiculous.
She continued to wash. Hands filled hair with shampoo, scrubbing hard at her scalp. Her eyes opened, heedless of the sting of soap, as she reached for the showerhead.
Cold water poured over her, washing away the lather, the sweat, leaving her body gleaming and shiny. Mylandah looked down at her chest, her lips pulling back in a feral grin. In that year of captivity, she had learned exactly what power she really held over people. She knew, with a ferocious certainty, that never once in her life would her reputation as an outstanding and dangerous athlete hold as much power as one small glimpse of her breasts. The pathetic guards that, one after another, grew to lust after and hate her, had taught her that. She trained half-naked just to taunt them with the knowledge that, even if they dared approach her, she’d have just as easily killed them as done another push-up. Idiots, one and all.
The soap was long gone, but Mylandah let the water continue to flow. It wasn’t, she thought with some amusement, that she didn’t *know* desire. There was that one guard she had let come so close…but then the fool had to go and ruin the moment by speaking. She shrugged. His injuries weren’t permanent – except for that one scar.
Her mind turned towards desire. The feel of her own skin, wet after a shower, always turned her on slightly. It must be something about human nature that a bath brings on these feelings, she mused. It irked her that she felt this way, that she couldn’t stop herself from reacting to the water streaming down her body, puckering her nipples, running off her breasts, dripping from her groin…it was tedious, this need for release. She wondered idly if Lahrri felt the same way.
In some confusion, Mylandah lowered the handheld showerhead. Now why on earth did she think that? The water pushed up at her from where she held it, next to her leg. The stream just brushed by the junction of leg and groin and Mylandah looked down at the water, puzzled at her own thoughts. Here she was, annoyingly horny and thinking of, of all people….
“Lahrri.” She said the name out loud.
“What?” The voice from behind her made Mylandah spin around on her stool.
Framed just inside the bathroom doorway stood the subject of her wandering thoughts, Lahrri Feldnut. Supremely confident, completely unconscious of her nakedness, with the same calm, inhuman look she habitually wore. Mylandah stared, feeling a range of unusual emotions scroll through her brain. Lahrri gave her a second glance, then stepped in to the room.
As she set her things on a bench, Lahrri asked quietly. “What did you want?”
Mylandah shook her head. “Nothing. I was thinking out loud. A vulgar habit.” She reached forward and turned off the water, hanging the showerhead back in its cradle. But for some reason, she didn’t move from where she sat.
“Thinking about what?” Lahrri asked, turning on her own shower. Cold, Mylandah noticed approvingly. The water washed through Lahrri’s hair, relaxing that unique hairdo until her blonde tresses laid flat against her head. Despite herself, Mylandah chuckled softly.
“That hairstyle suits you.”
Lahrri turned to gaze at her evenly, no smile on her lips. “And that one suits you.”
Mylandah put her hand up to her own head, where her wavy tresses hung lankly. “I suppose,” she answered quietly.
Lahrri turned away and took her soap in her hand. She ran her hand along one arm while Mylandah watched, fascinated despite herself, as lather covered first one arm, then the other, then legs, and at last, torso.
As Lahrri ran a hand along her abdomen, raising it slowly to wash her chest, she turned slightly, giving Mylandah a better view. “Is that what you were thinking about?” she asked mildly.
Mylandah met the other woman’s eyes boldly. “Yes.”
“Mmm.” Lahrri grunted. “Get my back, will you?”
Mylandah took the soap from the other woman’s hands and slapped it up against her broad back. When her hand touched the other woman’s skin, she found her lips pulling back from her teeth. It was all she could do to contain the sound that threatened to emerge from her mouth…a low growl of pleasure.
“What do you do about it?” Lahrri asked suddenly.
Mylandah stopped midstroke. “About it?”
Lahrri gave her a glance over her shoulder. “Doesn’t working out make you…”
“Ah.” Mylandah said in acknowledgement. “Yes. You?”
“Mmm.” Lahrri confirmed.
Mylandah washed Lahrri’s back in silence, then handed the soap back. She reached past the other woman and took the showerhead in her hand. Lahrri turned on the water and the water blasted out in a chill waterfall. Mylandah stroked a hand through the blonde hair, rinsing shampoo and soap off every surface she could easily reach. Lahrri took the showerhead back and completed her ablutions. She cradled the appliance and stood. Mylandah stood up as well, braiding her hair and pinning it onto the top of her head.
They entered the bath together. Mylandah sat facing Lahrri, her gaze openly taking in the other woman’s body. Mylandah had, of course, seen Lahrri in many stages of dress, and had frequently been in physical contact with the other woman, but never had there been so much…tension…between them. No, the tension had been there since the day they had met. It was just that today, they were both acknowledging it.
“So,” Mylandah said with a sarcastic smile, “what do you do about it?”
Lahrri shrugged eloquently, her arms extended along the top of the bath. Mylandah noticed how the motion made her breasts move in the water. “Whatever I have to.”
Silence fell. Mylandah leaned her head backwards, knowing that it would push her own breasts higher in the water. She opened her eyes a fraction, to see if Lahrri was looking, if there was hunger in that look. She was mildly disappointed to see Lahrri’s eyes were closed.
“You never answered me.” Lahrri’s tone hadn’t changed. Mylandah wondered that she could remain so calm in the face of what was happening.
“Whatever I have to,” she echoed. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It would be nice if once in a while…” she let the sentence end unfinished.
“If?” Lahrri took the bait.
Mylandah opened her eyes and locked them onto Lahrri’s. She was sure she could see a flash in those cool depths.
“If …once in a while I could have something more real.” Mylandah said, allowing the minutest emotion into her voice.
Lahrri held Mylandah’s eyes. “More real?”
Mylandah shrugged, and, closing her eyes, leaned her head back once again. “More real than a quickie with some guy, more real than my own hand. Something meaningful. With an equal.”
Lahrri grunted.
Mylandah kept her eyes closed, but let a sneer cross her lips. “Any suggestions?”
“Hmm?” Lahrri asked.
“Where I can find an equal,” Mylandah said. She watched from half-closed eyes with amusement, as Lahrri’s cool façade cracked and fell like ice from a glacier.
Lahrri glared for a single moment, then a small smile crossed her own lips. “Yes. I’m sure Kanzaki-kun will be perfectly happy to accommodate you.”
Mylandah’s eyes whipped open and she glared at Lahrri, who appeared to be shaking slightly where she sat. It took a moment before Mylandah realized that the other woman was laughing. At her. A blinding wave of emotion surged through her body, leaving her almost weak in its wake. She could feel her own body beginning to shake, and she strove to keep it contained, but after a bravely fought battle, failed. Her own laughter was loud in the small, tiled room.
Mylandah wiped the back of a hand across her face, feeling its warmth, from the bath, from the laughter, from the whatever it was that was growing between her and Lahrri. She rose from the tub, and stepped away to retrieve a towel. She unbound her hair and shook it out. Lifting the towel from her pile of effects, Mylandah felt the object pulled from her hand. She spun around and found herself face to face with Lahrri. The other woman stood so close that Mylandah could feel Lahrri’s breath against her own skin.
Lahrri leaned forward until her lips nearly touched Mylandah’s cheek. She reached her arms around the smaller woman and wrapped her in the towel she had taken from her. Smiling, Lahrri pulled away, and reached out for her own towel. Handing it to Mylandah, Lahrri lifted her arms, awaiting the other woman.
Something broke inside Mylandah. She dropped the towel she held, and ran her hands over Lahrri’s arms, feeling every inch of those magnificently muscled limbs. Many people would consider Lahrri grotesque, over masculine, but at that moment Mylandah had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.
As she lowered Lahrri’s arms, Mylandah thought about her own life, how she had gotten here, to this place, this moment – about her reputation for intensity that had changed to a reputation for viciousness. Her focus, so long on being the best, had altered when this woman had entered her life. Something important had changed within her – all her energy, all her concentration had been focused not on a goal, but on a person. On Lahrri Feldnut.
Mylandah ran her hands along Lahrri’s collarbone, then down onto her sternum. Laying her hands flat she stepped away, picked up the towel from the floor and returned to wrap it around Lahrri’s body.
“When was it, I wonder,” Mylandah said quietly. “When was it that you took over my thoughts?”
Lahrri looked into Mylandah’s eyes with that same calm she always radiated. Mylandah resented her that calm. Her own body flamed with extremes of anger, of hatred, of loneliness, of desire….
Desire. With that thought, Mylandah was sure this time she could see the flames burning in the depths of Lahrri’s eyes, see the passion that rarely, if ever, reached the surface.
“Lahrri.” Mylandah said, her body clenched with need. If she could just reach out…touch her once more, surely she would see those flames come to the surface.
Lahrri’s grip was strong. Mylandah knew that, of course. They had wrestled, fought, competed in many and varied games. But it was different this time. Her grip was firm and insistent in a way that Mylandah had never known. She grinned, thinking that in a conventional movie, now was the time for her to melt willingly into Lahrri’s arms. Well, she would never melt, not for anyone – especially not for Lahrri Feldnut.
Mylandah moved into Lahrri’s embrace fiercely, with determination. Lahrri’s lips were hard against hers, and Mylandah couldn’t help but laugh. Not even for this would they give up the competition, not even for a brief moment of warmth. She placed her hand on the back of Lahrri’s neck and moved her mouth against Lahrri’s, probing, looking for a way in. She could hear Lahrri speak against her, but couldn’t make out the words. Mylandah pulled her mouth away from Lahrri’s.
“What did you just say?” she grated, panting from the adrenaline coursing through her body.
Lahrri looked at her, her eyes dark with obvious need, and Mylandah felt her heart soar with victory. “I said, ‘Good. Harder.'” Lahrri rasped.
Mylandah’s head exploded with lust. She reached out both hands and pulled Lahrri into her, ripping at their towels, scraping her teeth against Lahrri’s neck, seeking out the one thing she needed to confirm her domination. Pressing against Lahrri’s mouth, she entered it with her tongue. She took Larrhi’s hand in her own, placing it against her body, just under her breast. Lahrri pulled her head away with the smallest intake of breath.
Lahrri looked at Mylandah for a moment, then placed her mouth over Mylandah’s nipple. Mylandah choked back the cry that forced itself out of her throat. Goddammit, she would *not* be the one to give in first. She pushed Lahrri off her and with the quickest of motions, swept the other woman’s feet from underneath her. She watched amusement flicker over Lahrri’s face as the blonde allowed herself to be taken to the ground. Mylandah held Lahrri’s hands over her head, and Lahrri, graciously, allowed them to be held. Mylandah growled at Lahrri’s competence and she whipped her hair across Lahrri’s chest. She took Lahrri’s breast in one hand and laid her mouth over her nipple, pulling at it, biting, stretching her hand out for a victory that would not be denied to her. She looked up at Lahrri, whose head was back, her mouth slightly open, her chest heaving as she sucked in breath after breath, trying to cool the heat that filled her. Mylandah pushed her hair out of her eyes and kissed Lahrri deeply. Immediately, the other woman began to suck at her. Mylandah gripped Lahrri’s arm, digging into the firm muscles with her nails. Lahrri pulled back, her half lidded eyes boring into Mylandah’s. “Harder,” she whispered, her voice no longer cool at all, but almost, not quite, pleading.
Mylandah growled once again, and removed her hand from Lahrri’s wrists. The blonde took a grip on the shelves behind her, stretching out her body beneath Mylandah’s. With a harsh, almost angry motion, Mylandah pulled Lahrri’s legs apart and entered her without warning. Her back arcing, body taut with need, Lahrri moaned loudly and Mylandah laughed, raising her voice in her moment of victory, at last, over the other woman…even as she knew that she was still, after all this time, two steps behind her. Even as she came to this realization, she found that, after all this time, and pain, and effort, she simply didn’t care. Mylandah lowered her head once again to Lahrri’s mouth and they kissed, hard, as Mylandah filled Lahrri and felt her come, hard. Lahrri moaned into Mylandah’s mouth, driving her wild as the muscular body whipped back and forth beneath her in a frenzy of unleashed, unrepentant ecstasy.
Mylandah lay there, her head on Lahrri’s chest, hair splayed across the powerful torso. She knew that Lahrri wouldn’t be too long regaining her breath – after all, hadn’t they trained harder than this for years? Still, it took Mylandah by surprise when Lahrri slipped from underneath her and pinned her to the floor with amazingly strong arms.
“Well?” Lahrri asked, her voice remarkably cool, but a smile on her lips.
Mylandah’s lips pulled back. “What do you think?”
Lahrri’s smiled disappeared and that was the last rational thing Mylandah remembered. Pain and pleasure mingled so thoroughly, as it always had, muscles crying out for release, body tense with need, all driven by an urgent longing – this was all Mylandah had ever known. Lahrri’s mouth was everywhere, her hands pinching, and pulling, and oh god, inside her, Mylandah thought she would never stop feeling that, even long after Lahrri was gone. The rhythm in between her legs was insistent, and her body’s need so great, that a single kiss, the softest possible touch, as Lahrri’s lips merely brushed, barely more than a breath over Mylandah’s clit set her off into a screaming wave of orgasm after orgasm that left her helpless. All the passion in her nature, all of her intent on this one woman was made manifest in a single word, called endlessly as Mylandah came.
“Lahrri!”
At last it faded. Mylandah, coated in sweat, relaxed back and breathed deeply as she had never breathed before. Lahrri lay there, watching her, her face, for one brief moment, completely open, unguarded. Mylandah felt something grip her chest at this. This is what Lahrri must have looked like as a child, when her dreams were just that, dreams to be realized.
“Goddamn you, Lahrri Feldnut.” Mylandah said, sitting up and moving away. “You have no right to make me feel this way.” She brushed angrily at tears that unaccountably sprang to her eyes.
Lahrri said nothing, but moved close enough to take Mylandah’s hand in her own. Mylandah waited for the insistent grip, but instead received only a soft caress, the calloused hand passing above her own gently, as if afraid to break her.
“Mylandah Arkar Walder.” Lahrri said quietly. She looked as if she was searching for the right words and failing. Lahrri had never been known as an orator – her power was in her body, not her speech. Her brows drawn together, she said, “That was some workout.”
Mylandah watched the blonde as she gathered her thoughts. “A good workout always makes me feel…” she let the rest of the sentence fade.
Mylandah watched her for a moment, then laughed. “Yeah, me too.” Still holding Lahrri’s hand, she stood. The two women released each other and took up their respective belongings.
Tightening towels around themselves, they scanned the bathroom for anything left awry. As they paused in the doorway, Mylandah said casually, “My room?”
Lahrri grunted. “Mine.”
And in perfect and complete silence, they walked away from the bathroom, together.
Battle Athletes © AIC, TV Tokyo, and Azuma Kiyohiko
Original characters and situations, E. Friedman