Work Text:
The classroom smelled like dust and something chemical, antiseptic, maybe, or the faint burnt-metal tang of old experiments. It was an unused classroom that Agnes Tachyon had claimed months ago, filling it with notebooks and half-disassembled equipment and the ghost of ambition. Now the notebooks were scattered across the floor, pages crumpled, and Tachyon sat in the corner with her knees drawn up to her chest, her ears flat against her skull.
The door creaked open.
"Oi, Tachyon! We've been looking everywhere for..." Jungle Pocket stopped mid-sentence, her amber eyes going wide. The white streak in her bangs caught the fluorescent light as she stepped inside, Dantsu Flame right behind her.
Tachyon didn't look up. Her red eyes were fixed on the floor, empty, the four light red lines in her irises seeming duller than usual. The silver earring shaped like a molecular structure dangled against her cheek.
"Ah. It's you two." Her voice was flat, mechanical. "If you've come to gloat about your recent race, I assure you, I'm already aware of the outcome."
Pocket's tail bristled. "That's not...we're not here to gloat, you idiot."
Dantsu moved past her, stepping carefully over the scattered papers. She knelt in front of Tachyon, her round amber eyes soft with concern. "Tachyon... Were only worried about you."
"Worry is an inefficient use of emotional resources," Tachyon said, still not looking up. "My leg injury is documented. My racing career is over. There is no variable left to optimize. My experiment has concluded."
"That's bullshit," Pocket snapped, but her voice cracked on the last word.
Tachyon finally lifted her head. Her expression was eerily calm, too calm, the kind of calm that sat on top of something shattered. "I have been reviewing my notes. My body has reached its operational limit. Further pursuit of speed would require physical capabilities I no longer possess. The logical conclusion is that my existence as a runner has reached its terminus." She paused, and something flickered in her red eyes. "Perhaps existence itself is... no longer necessary."
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.
Pocket's ears pinned back. Her tail went rigid. "What the hell are you saying?"
"Statistically speaking, the probability of my achieving any meaningful contribution to the field of speed research is negligible given my physical constraints. I am surplus. A failed experiment."
Dantsu's breath caught. Her hands trembled as she reached out, cupping Tachyon's face, forcing the smaller girl to look at her. "Don't you dare say that. Don't you ever say that."
Tachyon blinked, her expression flickering with something like confusion. "It's not an emotional statement. It's a logical assessment of—"
"Shut up." Pocket's voice was rough, raw. She dropped to her knees beside Dantsu, grabbing Tachyon's shoulders. Her grip was tight, almost painful. "Shut up, shut up, shut up. You don't get to decide that. You don't get to just..." Her voice broke. She looked away, jaw clenched, but didn't let go.
"You're shaking," Dantsu observed softly. Her thumb traced along Tachyon's cheekbone. "You say all these clinical things, but your body knows better. You're scared."
Tachyon's lips parted. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, very quietly: "I don't know what to do anymore."
It was the first real thing she'd said all night.
Dantsu pulled her forward, into an embrace, cradling Tachyon's head against her chest. Tachyon's body went stiff, then slowly, incrementally, softened. Her hands came up, gripping Dantsu's clothes with white-knuckled fingers.
Pocket watched, her own tail curling around her leg. Then she moved closer, pressing herself against Tachyon's back, wrapping her arms around both of them. Her chin rested on Tachyon's shoulder, her breath warm against the smaller girl's ear.
"We've got you," Pocket muttered, her voice gruff but shaky. "You're not alone, you idiot scientist. You're not getting rid of us that easily."
Tachyon made a sound, small, broken, caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "You're both very... inefficient with your emotional investments."
"Yeah, well," Pocket said, and her teeth grazed Tachyon's earlobe, just barely, "maybe we're investing in something worth it."
Tachyon's breath hitched. Her ears twitched, the dark brown tips brushing against Pocket's cheek.
Dantsu pulled back just enough to look at Tachyon's face, flushed now, the red in her eyes brighter, her pupils dilated. "When was the last time someone touched you?" she asked softly. "Really touched you?"
Tachyon's throat worked. "I don't... that data is not relevant to..."
"It is." Dantsu's hand slid down, from Tachyon's cheek to her neck, fingers tracing the line of her collarbone. "It's relevant because you're shaking, and it's not from fear anymore."
Pocket's hands moved too, up from Tachyon's waist, sliding under the hem of her lab coat, fingers splaying across her stomach. Her nails dragged lightly against the skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "She's right. You're reacting. Your body's telling us everything your mouth won't."
Tachyon's breath came faster. Her hands were still gripping Dantsu's clothes, but her knuckles were white from a different tension now. "This is...this is not a logical use of..."
"I don't care", Pocket growled against her ear, and bit down on the curve of it...not hard, but enough to make Tachyon gasp, her back arching. "I've been chasing you for months. Trying to catch up. And now you want to disappear? Like hell. You're staying right here, and we're going to make sure you feel every goddamn second of it."
Dantsu's hand found Tachyon's thigh, squeezing gently. "Is this okay?" she asked, her voice soft, motherly, anchoring. "Tell us if it's not."
Tachyon's red eyes were glassy, her composure cracking at the edges. "I... yes. I want... I don't know what I want."
"Yes you do," Pocket said, and her hand slid lower, pressing between Tachyon's thighs. Even through the fabric of her shorts, Tachyon was already wet...the evidence warm and damp against Pocket's fingers. "You want to be held. You want to be wanted. You want to feel something other than that emptiness you've been drowning in."
A sob broke from Tachyon's throat. "Please."
"Please what?" Dantsu's voice was a whisper, her lips brushing Tachyon's forehead.
"Please don't stop."
Pocket's laugh was low and rough. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Pocket tugged Tachyon's lab coat off her shoulders, letting it fall to the dusty floor. Dantsu worked the buttons of her shirt with careful, deliberate slowness, her fingers grazing each inch of skin as it was revealed. Tachyon's chest was pale, her nipples already hard, pebbled and sensitive in the cool air.
"Look at you," Dantsu murmured, brushing her thumb across one nipple, watching it tighten further. "So responsive."
Tachyon gasped, her hips twitching. "That's...that's a basic physiological reaction to..."
"Shut up." Pocket's command was sharp, but her hands were gentle as she pushed Tachyon onto her back, onto the pile of discarded notebooks and lab coats they'd spread on the floor. "No more talking. Not with that clinical bullshit. I want to hear the real sounds you make."
She crawled over Tachyon, straddling her hips, pinning her down. Dantsu settled beside them, her hand finding Tachyon's, threading their fingers together.
Pocket leaned down and took Tachyon's nipple into her mouth.
The scientist's back bowed off the floor, a cry tearing from her throat, raw, desperate, nothing clinical about it. Pocket's tongue circled the hard peak, teeth grazing, sucking until it was swollen and dark. Then she moved to the other, giving it the same attention, her hand squeezing the neglected breast.
"You're beautiful like this," Dantsu said softly, lifting Tachyon's hand to her lips, kissing each knuckle. "All those walls falling down. Let us see you, Tachyon. Let us see all of you."
Tachyon's eyes were wet, but she nodded, a broken little movement.
Pocket sat up, pulling off her crop top in one motion, revealing her own toned stomach and the sweat-sheen on her skin from training. Her tits were small but firm, her nipples pink and already hard. She grabbed Tachyon's hands and pressed them to her chest.
"Touch me," she said. "Feel me. I'm real. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
Tachyon's fingers trembled as she cupped Pocket's breasts, thumbs brushing across the nipples. Pocket groaned, rolling her hips against Tachyon's stomach, the friction of their bodies electric.
Dantsu worked Tachyon's shorts down her legs, then her underwear. The scent of her arousal filled the air, warm, feminine, the slick evidence of how badly she wanted this. Dantsu's fingers traced along Tachyon's inner thigh, feather-light, deliberate, teasing.
"You're so wet," Dantsu said, her voice full of wonder. "Is this all for us?"
"Yes," Tachyon breathed, the word torn from her. "Yes, it's...it's for you. Both of you."
Pocket's grin was sharp, feral, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "Good girl."
Dantsu parted Tachyon's folds with two fingers, revealing the pink, glistening flesh beneath. Her thumb found Tachyon's clit, swollen, hard, desperate for attention, and circled it slowly, deliberately.
Tachyon's hips bucked. Her head thrashed. "Please, please, I need..."
"I know what you need." Dantsu slid one finger inside her, then two, the tight heat of Tachyon's pussy clenching around her. "You need to be filled. You need to feel something so good it drowns out everything else."
Pocket shifted, positioning herself above Tachyon's face, her shorts already discarded. Her pussy was slick, glistening, the musky scent of her driving something primal in Tachyon's brain.
"Open your mouth," Pocket commanded.
Tachyon complied, her tongue extending, and Pocket lowered herself onto it with a guttural moan. "Yeah, just like that. Use that smart tongue for something good."
Dantsu's fingers continued their rhythm inside Tachyon's pussy, curling, finding that rough patch of nerves, pressing, while her thumb never stopped circling Tachyon's clit.
Tachyon's muffled moans vibrated against Pocket's clit, making the taller girl shudder. "She's...she's good at this. Her tongue..."
The sounds were filthy, wet, slick, the obscene noise of Pocket riding Tachyon's face while Dantsu's fingers plunged in and out of her pussy. Tachyon's legs were spread wide, her toes curling, her tail thrashing against the floor.
"I want to taste her," Pocket said, pulling off Tachyon's mouth with a wet pop. She scrambled around, positioning herself between Tachyon's thighs, her face inches from Dantsu's working fingers. "Let me."
Dantsu withdrew, and Pocket immediately buried her face in Tachyon's pussy.
The scream that tore from Tachyon's throat was animal. Pocket's tongue was rough, insistent, lapping at her clit before sliding down to taste the slick gathering at her entrance. She ate like she ran, aggressively, obsessively, with no thought for anything but the finish line.
"Taste so good," Pocket growled against her flesh, the vibration making Tachyon sob. "Could eat you forever. Never get tired of this."
Dantsu moved up, straddling Tachyon's chest, her own pussy hovering above the scientist's mouth. "One more," she said softly. "One more thing to focus on. Can you do that for me, Tachyon?"
Tachyon's answer was to lift her head, her tongue finding Dantsu's slick folds, drawing a shuddering moan from the usually composed girl. "Oh...oh, that's...good, that's so good..."
They moved together, a triangle of need and pleasure. Pocket's tongue fucked Tachyon's pussy while her fingers pressed against her clit. Dantsu rode Tachyon's face with gentle, rolling hips, her hand tangled in Tachyon's short brown hair. And Tachyon...Tachyon was lost, drowning in sensation, in the weight of two bodies pressing her into the floor, demanding she feel every second.
"You're close," Pocket gasped, pulling back just enough to shove two fingers into Tachyon's pussy, curling them hard. "Cum for me. Cum on my fingers. I want to feel you squeeze."
Tachyon's orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body arching, a scream muffled against Dantsu's pussy, her thighs clamping around Pocket's head. She came and came, clenching around Pocket's fingers, her vision going white at the edges.
Pocket didn't let up, working her through it, lapping at her clit until Tachyon was twitching and sobbing with oversensitivity. "That's it. That's it. Beautiful."
Dantsu slid off Tachyon's face, her legs trembling. She pulled Tachyon into her arms, cradling her, stroking her hair. "You did so well. You're okay. We've got you."
Tachyon was crying, real tears, streaming down her cheeks, her body shaking with sobs. But she was also smiling, a broken, relieved thing that made Pocket's chest ache.
"Don't you ever," Pocket said, her voice rough, crawling up to press her forehead against Tachyon's, "ever talk about being unnecessary again. You hear me? You're the most necessary person I know."
Tachyon laughed wetly. "That's... a very emotional and unscientific statement."
"Doesn't matter." Pocket kissed her, hard and deep, tasting herself on Tachyon's lips. "You're staying. You're ours. Deal with it."
Dantsu pressed a kiss to Tachyon's shoulder, then her neck, then her cheek. "She's right. We're not letting you go."
Tachyon's hands came up, one gripping Pocket's braid, the other finding Dantsu's soft palm. She held them both, her body warm between theirs, and for the first time since the diagnosis, the emptiness inside her didn't feel so vast.
"Okay," she whispered. "Okay."
They lay tangled together on the floor, breathing slowing, the dust settling around them. Pocket was half-draped across Tachyon's stomach, her ear pressed to the scientist's chest, listening to her heartbeat. Dantsu was curled at Tachyon's side, her head on her shoulder, fingers tracing patterns on her hip.
"The sunlight patterns on the ceiling are... aesthetically pleasing," Tachyon said, her voice hoarse but steadier. "The refraction through the window creates a..."
"Tachyon." Pocket lifted her head, her amber eyes soft. "Shut up."
Dantsu laughed, quiet and fond. "She means she loves you."
"I know what she means." Tachyon's hand found Pocket's hair, stroking. "I... I don't know how to say it back. The words don't come easily."
"Then don't say it." Pocket pressed a kiss to Tachyon's sternum, right over her heart. "Just stay. That's enough."
Tachyon's throat tightened. She held them tighter.
The moonlight shifted across the floor, and the three of them lay there, breathing together, the broken scientist finally letting herself be held, letting herself believe she was worth holding.