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And I can see us twisted in bedsheets
August sipped away like a bottle of wine
'Cause you were never mine
Usagi figured that she would eventually end up trapped somewhere with Tuxedo Mask. It was a hazard, really, of the superhero lifestyle. What she hadn’t counted on was that being trapped with Tuxedo Mask would end with her coming hard against his mouth as they waited for help to arrive.
Things had been peaceful for years. They’d (just barely, and at great personal cost) defeated the Dark Kingdom when she was 15, though they’d never found the elusive princess or the Silver Crystal that Luna kept going on about. They continued the search for years; Ami had even run simulation after simulation to no avail.
Eventually, searching had given way to high school exams and then high school graduation, and senshi meetings mainly consisted of gossip sessions at the Crown. Even those had become less frequent as everyone tried to establish their adult lives, and they thought that peace had settled over Tokyo.
They hadn’t seen Tuxedo Mask in years, either.
That all changed when strange monsters had started attacking several weeks ago. The senshi had been unwillingly pulled out of their peaceful retirement and back into battles with mysterious youma. At 19, Usagi felt like she’d been pulled back into a battle she’d never asked for or wanted.
The first time Sailor Moon saw Tuxedo Mask after all of these years, she’d forgotten how to breathe. Every lingering adolescent feeling she had about Tuxedo Mask came crashing back all at once. That momentary hesitation during battle had cost her a badly singed shoulder and an angry new scar before she’d managed to get out of the way.
The second time, she’d been a little more prepared. She dodged the youma’s attack with some amount of grace and even managed to save Tuxedo Mask from a hailstorm of explosive chocolates.
The third time, she’d been whisked to safety by one of Tux’s well-timed rescues. She’d been overcome by the scent of him and had buried her face in his chest, grazing her fingers along the lapels of his jacket and tugging without thinking. He’d given her a curious look before setting her safely onto the ground and running off.
After that, Tuxedo Mask hadn’t been shy about jumping in for the rescue, his touches a few inches lower and his gaze lasting a half second longer than strictly necessary each time. Every battle felt like an escalation of something just a bit out of Usagi’s reach.
It was driving her insane. And, frankly, it was wildly distracting, though nothing had come from their charged interactions besides a lot of lonely nights with her vibrator.
She’d been so convinced that she’d moved past her old schoolgirl crush, despite the fact that she’d never lasted more than a few dates with anyone else. While they'd all been perfectly nice, and attainable, and didn’t need to save her from near-death experiences constantly, they’d also never quite measured up to intense heart palpitations she felt whenever Tuxedo Mask so much as looked at her.
Now, though, Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask had found themselves in the aftermath of a battle in one of Tokyo’s soon-to-be-torn-down buildings. Once again, they’d scraped out a narrow victory, but they had somehow managed to get stuck when Sailor Moon’s attack both finished off the youma and shifted the materials around them, trapping them inside the construction zone. And of course, she’d forgotten her communicator, which is why she had to fight without the other senshi to begin with.
The space is cramped and dirty, showing signs of neglect in every corner. A small amount of light from the moon and the Tokyo skyline shines through a small window opening, barely illuminating the area. The summer heat makes the room feel particularly heady.
There’s barely space for the two of them to sit, though the low ceiling makes it impossible for Tuxedo Mask to stand at his full height. Giving up on finding a way out of their current predicament, he unhooks his cape and lays it down on the ground before taking a seat.
“It looks like they’re actively working on clearing out this area. There should be construction workers coming by in a few hours, and we’ll just have to wait until then.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense.”
Usagi is both deeply aware of their proximity and deeply aware this is the longest she’s ever spent alone with Tuxedo Mask without them hanging from a ledge in an elevator shaft. At least in the elevator shaft, they’d had the distraction of trying to not fall to their deaths. Now, all they had was time and years of unspoken questions.
They sit in uncomfortable silence for approximately ninety seconds before Usagi can’t take it any longer and starts to ask Tuxedo Mask about his favorite ice cream flavor.
Instead, he surprises her by asking a question first. “Sailor Moon… Why did you start fighting again? I thought you’d retired.”
She’s taken aback at the suddenness of the question as well as her own inability to answer. She didn’t understand why she’d been pulled back into this life either, though it seemed ‘destiny’ and ‘duty’ were the only answers she could ever get out of Luna.
As far as she was concerned, destiny could go fuck itself. Though perhaps that wouldn’t be the answer expected of Tokyo’s Favorite Heroine.
“I thought after we’d defeated the Dark Kingdom that it would be over, and that we could all live happy, normal lives. And it was, or at least I thought so… but I guess that was too much to hope for. It certainly wasn’t easy then, but I’m learning that moonlighting as a superhero isn’t any easier as an adult.” Sailor Moon smiles ruefully. “Why did you come back? No one has heard from Tuxedo Mask for years, either.”
Tuxedo Mask pauses thoughtfully. “I’m not sure, honestly. I’d given up on finding the princess years ago. I left the country for a year or so when things seemed quiet. But I kept having this feeling that I was still needed in Tokyo, as if I was being pulled by something I didn’t understand. I’d never gotten any of the answers I was looking for. And then when these new attacks started, I felt like this was the reason I’d come back.”
The air felt thick. Sailor Moon doesn’t have an answer in response. Instead, she notices the oozing scrape along Tuxedo Mask’s arm. Reaching out to investigate, she skims her fingers along the torn flesh. He winces when her touch gets too close to the wound, but doesn't back off from the increased proximity of their bodies.
“It’ll be okay by tomorrow. I heal much faster than normal people, and I can stitch it up myself later if I need to.” At her quizzical look, he continues. “I’m in medical school. It doesn’t leave much room for moonlighting either, but it comes in handy at times.”
Usagi doesn’t know how to respond. It’s the first personal fact that she’s ever learned about Tuxedo Mask, and it makes him seem much so more human than the fantastical figure she’d built him up to be in her head.
She settles for pressing a soft kiss near the damaged flesh, an apology for her uncharacteristic stoicism.
He looks at her with some kind of vulnerability she can’t place. He lowers his gaze before bringing his face near hers, his breath hot on her lips.
The kiss is chaste, all things considered. It isn’t even their first kiss, though it is the first kiss they’ve shared since they’d been unwittingly thrust back into the superhero life.
Usagi breaks away briefly, the air suddenly feeling very hot between them. She flashes back to every frustrating night she’d spent fantasizing about this, bringing herself over the edge with her fingers while dreaming about what it would be like to press Tuxedo Mask against the wall and rip that damned mask away from his face.
Suddenly, she’s never wanted anything more than to see how far this could go.
She brings a gloved hand to the side of Tuxedo Mask’s neck, curling her fingers into the base of his hair and bringing him back down against her lips.
He responds with a groan, deepening their kiss and pulling her over his legs and onto his lap, the skirt of her fuku dangling over his legs and her knees digging in to the cape separating them from the dirty ground. He moves one hand to her thigh, teasing his gloved fingertips against the line where skirt fabric meets bare skin.
She responds in kind, grinding against him in a desperate bid for increased friction where she wants it, her breath coming in short bursts against her chest. Feeling bold, she breaks away from their kiss just long enough to shift her ministrations elsewhere, peppering kisses along his jawline before nibbling at his earlobe.
She takes it as a good sign when she hears him gasp, sucking air between his teeth.
She takes it as a better sign when he finally breaks, and suddenly she’s a heady mess because his hands and his mouth are all over her at once.
“Does this thing…come off?” He claws at her fuku from various angles, desperately trying to find a way to touch more of her delicious skin underneath.
“I don’t think so? There’s not a zipper or anything as far as I can tell…”
Tuxedo Mask groans, tugging at the fabric. Finding no practical way to remove the offending garment, he moves one hand to the base of her head, knotting his fingers into her hair and pulling it to expose more of her neck. The other hand slides up her waist, ghosting her breast with his thumb, until it lands at her collar.
He tugs at the sailor collar of her fuku as far down her shoulder as it will go, his gaze stopping at the angry pink flesh of her latest battle scar.
Sailor Moon’s breath hitches, expecting him to wince at the unsightly marks across her shoulder. Instead, he slows his frantic pace to bend down and place a gentle kiss on the scar, mirroring her tender actions from earlier. He trails his lips up the side of her neck, pausing to give a gentle suck at her pulse point as his hand moved from her collar down to her thigh, grazing over the fabric. He takes a moment to nip behind her earlobe, then pulls back and, meeting her gaze, brings a gloved hand to his mouth, sliding the garment off finger-by-finger with his teeth.
She’s never seen anything more erotic.
Tuxedo Mask moves his further up her thigh, finally moving past the hem of her skirt. His fingers brush lightly against her crotch. She ruts up against his hand, wanting to be touched.
Their eyes meet, and she nods her encouragement.
He pulls the fabric of her crotch aside with his thumb and runs one finger up and down her slit, teasing at her entrance and feeling her wetness. Eventually, he slips one finger inside and curls, and she swears her eyes roll into the back of her head. Encouraged, he adds another, stroking up and against her front walls.
Usagi mewls as she digs her hands into the fabric of his jacket and grinds deeper onto his hand.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she thinks they’ve done this before, though she doesn’t have time to dwell on that thought when the present feels so fucking good.
He pauses. “Sailor Moon… I want to taste you.” His eyes are wild and dark and pleading.
She pauses, briefly considering the both the implications of his words and the logistics of how to maneuver in such a cramped space. Deciding that oh fuck yes, that’s exactly what she wants, she nods and moves off his fingers.
Seeing no other practical way to grant him access, she stands on wobbly legs, unsteady from their awkward position and previous activities. He brings his one gloved hand to the back of her thigh to pull her closer to his face.
It’s uncomfortable and cramped; she doesn’t quite fit in the small space, and her legs are in an awkward crouch above Tuxedo Mask’s head. He pulls at one knee and brought it over his shoulder to give better access, then starts peppering kisses up the inside of her thigh.
Finally, he pulls the crotch of her fuku to the side, but he simply runs his thumb lightly around her clit, teasing her.
She wants to scream in frustration. She’s so strung out from his earlier ministrations that she can’t even fucking think, she just rut her hips forward, but he still won’t fucking move.
Finally, finally, he brings his mouth up to her slit and slides his tongue forward.
She thinks she can hear him moan while his face is buried between her legs, but she’s too strung out to focus on anything except how fucking good his tongue feels on her clit and his fingers feel inside of her.
He curls his fingers just so, and she gasps and pulls harder at his hair while she babbles incoherent nothings and her head rolls back and her legs feel progressively more and more like she can barely stand on her own, but moving away from his wicked, wicked tongue is most definitely not an option for her at this point.
This time, she definitely hears him moan into her. She’s never felt more fucking powerful (including that time she saved the fucking world, thankyouverymuch) or more turned on than she does when she looks down to see Tuxedo Mask whimpering into her cunt.
She digs her hands deeper into his hair, his top hat abandoned somewhere amidst the random construction equipment around their He takes her hair pulling as a sign to continue, and it’s not long before she’s bucking against his tongue, her vision going white as her orgasm overtakes her.
Her chest heaves as she comes down from her orgasm. His hand on her thigh steadies her while her legs go boneless, and she sinks back to the ground. She notices that his chin is covered in the remnants of her, and that his smirk looks too much like the cat that caught the canary.
“That was… yeah. Thanks?” She’s not exactly sure what proper post oral etiquette is, but she thinks it probably involves some sort of acknowledgment and reciprocity. She moves forward to bring him in for another kiss, her hands moving to palm the bulge visible through his tuxedo pants.
He breaks away, grabbing her wrist to still her efforts. “Sailor Moon, is this really what you want? We don’t… I mean, I’m fine if you don’t want to…”
She blinks, pulled out of her post-orgasm haze. She brings her gaze up to meet his. “I’m sure, if you are.”
Tuxedo Mask hesitates for a moment, his normally-cerulean eyes darkened with arousal. “I don’t have a condom…” He looks strained and wild-eyed, like holding back is physically the hardest thing he’d ever done.
Right. Fuck. Protection. Like a responsible adult about to have what she hoped was mind-blowing sex with her schoolgirl fantasy crush in an abandoned building. She’s glad at least one of them was thinking clearly. “One sec, I think I do…” as she wills the items back into existence and pulls out a small bag with several condoms and a sample size packet of lubricant.
“You keep condoms and lube in your subspace pocket?”
She shrugs. “Sailor Venus insists that we all do? Something about the friction in your wallet being a bad place to store condoms. She thinks it’s her duty as the Senshi of Love and as the leader to ensure we’re always prepared for any situation, especially emergency sex. Or so she says.”
Tuxedo Mask chuckles and takes the foil packet, tearing the corner with his teeth. “Sailor Venus is correct on the storage part, at least. It can compromise them and lead to the condom breaking. Remind me to thank her sometime.” With that, he rolls the latex down his shaft, groaning at the touch.
It takes another two minutes of finagling for them to figure out a workable position in the cramped space. They settle on a seated position with her on top. Then it takes another thirty seconds to pull the fuku to the side and get her in position. Finally, finally, she sinks down over his cock with a groan. She takes a moment to adjust to the feeling, unaccustomed to the sensation.
She hears him suck in his breath when she starts to move. Sees him tense beneath her as he pulls her hips forward against him. Tastes the sweat on his neck when she brings her lips to his pulse point.
It’s too much, and not enough, and the only thing she can focus on is feeling more. It’s not long until she’s back to the incoherent mumbling, because she’s nothing if not talkative, but this time she’s joined by Tuxedo Mask’s breathy gasps next to her and his fingers digging into her thigh.
He reaches between them, frantically finding her swollen clit through the fabric of her fuku. She grinds down harder and knots her hands deeper into his tuxedo jacket, desperate for release.
She hears his desperate groan against her hear as she moves against him. She tenses, her orgasm building, while his fingers work their delicious magic against her clit. Her vision goes white when she comes against him; he follows soon after with a strangled, desperate moan.
It’s all over too quickly, but she’s so thoroughly fucked that she can’t bring herself to care.
Later, after they’ve awkwardly disentangled and fumbled around one another and forgotten how to make small talk like normal humans who just boned (as if they’d ever even had small talk to begin with), Tuxedo Mask pulls her back against him and gives her a chaste kiss that’s somehow more comforting than anything else he could have said.
She settles against him, nuzzling into his shoulder in the uncomfortable space. Eventually, they both nod off, content with their proximity and silence.
At least, that is, until the construction crew finds two sleeping superheroes among their pile of rubble the next morning. That one’s harder to explain.