Work Text:
Mamoru both envied and was fascinated by Usagi's ability to fall asleep. It was a talent he knew she'd honed since grade school - the ability to shut those cerulean eyes, let soft pink lips fall open and relax into a puddle of blonde hair and soft snores. Now that she was out of high school and working late hours at Naru's store, she'd only gotten better at it.
Looking up from the book he was reading, he smiled at Usagi on his sofa, sprawled out with a manga falling out of her hand, cheeks pink and damp with the drool on his throw pillow, snoring slightly.
He turned back to his book, but ended up looking up almost right away again as he heard Usagi sigh happily in her sleep.
She often talked in her sleep, usually nonsense, oftentimes food related, and sometimes she murmured, "Mamo-chan," in a girlish, dreamy voice, making him look up, startled, until he realized he was just making an appearance in her dreams.
And, if he was honest, he absolutely loved when that happened. Especially when her soft voice would hitch, groan his name slightly, breath coming faster and cheeks pinker and he wished he could see the story playing out behind her eyelids. Because lord knows he'd dreamt of her that way since… well, almost since the day they'd met. And he loved that even though they'd been intimate with each other for a while now, it was still new and incredibly sexy to hear her moan his name in that breathless, aching way whether he was touching her in real life or in her dreams.
This time was no different, as she let out a soft, breathy giggle and moaned slightly. Her brows drew together and her lips opened in an expression he'd recently come to know all too well. "Yessss, oh, I-want-you-so-much," she mumbled, her head turning slightly into the pillow. Swallowing hard, Mamoru stood to wake her up — he'd feel way too pervy to sit here and watch, fascinated as he was.
Gently, he reached out to shake her shoulder. "Usa-," and then she moaned a name.
But it wasn't his name.
At least, not exactly.
In the kitchen, Mamoru dragged an agitated hand through his hair and glared at the sink as if it could answer why he was suddenly annoyed and jealous for what was quite possibly the stupidest reason known to man.
She was dreaming about Tuxedo Kamen.
And it was driving him mad to know that.
It wasn't like he didn't understand. He completely understood. After all, Sailor Moon was a babe. And in his mind, practically interchangeable with his civilian, clumsy girlfriend. So, surely he could rationalize that Usagi was dreaming of him, just him in the cape and mask, whisking her to safety and… and doing what he'd always wanted to do with her after battles, since before he even knew the whys and hows of the depth of his feelings for her.
So why was this bugging him so much?!
At a nearby table in the cafe, a girl elbowed her date in the ribs and glared. The waiter stuttered and blushed in a very unprofessional manner. Outside, a pedestrian almost stumbled into a lamppost while craning his head to get a better look at the woman sitting in the cafe window.
Michiru never seemed to even notice any of it. She stirred her tea and sipped demurely, looking at Mamoru with thoughtful aqua eyes.
"You're quieter and more broody than usual," she observed, putting the tea down with a delicate 'clink.' "Trouble in paradise?"
Rolling his eyes slightly, Mamoru picked up his espresso and downed it in an annoyed sip. Michiru was lovely, peaceful company and he enjoyed their conversations over tea (they discussed philosophy, classical music, and whose romantic partner did the most insane thing that month - so far it was Haruka 5, Usagi 3). But he still hadn't got used to her unique brand of bluntness, softened as it was by her veneer of grace.
Shifting uncomfortably, Mamoru attempted to change the subject but ended up bringing it around to the very topic he wanted to avoid, but also discuss. "You and Haruka met as civilians before you … I mean, before you were… senshi."
Michiru was still looking at him with probing, too-knowing eyes. "In a manner of speaking, yes," she said. "It was similar for you and the princess was it not?"
He cleared his throat, "Well we… we didn't know. I mean… we... she didn't really like me."
"The way I remember her telling it, she um, liked Tuxedo Kamen." Michiru smiled like the Mona Lisa over her tea cup. "A lot."
Mamoru grumbled a little and Michiru laughed lightly. "Oh my, what?"
"Nothing," he mumbled, "it's just… I think she still…hasn't really let that go..."
"And why would she?" Michiru said lightly. "After all, she got him, didn't she?" She winked.
"Well, I'm not…," he looked out the window, thinking of Usagi's soft but intense groan while she dreamed on his sofa. 'Tuxedo Kamen sama…'
"Look, Usagi was what? Thirteen when she met Tuxedo Kamen?"
"Fourteen."
"Ah," Michiru's nod was far too knowing for Mamoru's comfort. "That's an impressionable time," she said, thoughtfully. "Tuxedo Kamen was definitely the catalyst for her sexual awakening."
Mamoru choked a bit. "Michiru, can we no-"
"I don't think you realize how important those first deep crushes can be," Michiru said, sternly. "It's the first time she would've imagined sex, would've felt those specific feelings. Only she actually ended up with her dream man, the one who she first dreamed about, the name on her lips when she first explored herself, the 'ideal'." Michiru either didn't notice or didn't care about Mamoru's grimacing. "She's lucky to be able to experience that for real."
"Well, not with Tuxedo Kamen," Mamoru's voice was more bitter than he wanted it to be. Being jealous of himself, how messed up was he? "I mean, I've never-I, I don't…"
"You've never done it while transformed?" Michiru sounded a bit taken aback. "Goodness, are you missing out. It's simply amazing." She sipped her tea as if she'd just recommended a new art exhibit and not suggested him having sex with his fiancée in superhero form.
"This conversation is getting a little too Minako for me," Mamoru said, with an awkward laugh. "Let's talk about something else."
Michiru shook her head again, murmuring, "Maybe Usagi isn't that lucky after all…"
"Hey!"
"I just cannot believe that you have the ability to fulfill your lover's most deeply held sexual fantasy and you haven't yet!"
"Michiru-"
"Okay, okay," she raised her hands and changed the subject.
When the bill came to the table, Mamoru reached for it only to have Michiru clamp her hand over his with surprising strength. He looked up and met her intense gaze. "Consider," she said, "how easily you could fulfill her wildest wet dreams."
Before he could answer, she'd smiled, took the bill from his shocked hands and walked up the cashier.
"How easily…," Mamoru pondered Michiru's words as he walked home, brows knit and ignoring passersby who glanced curiously at the intensity on his face.
Usagi so clearly wanting Tuxedo Kamen wasn't exactly headline news. Maybe what was bugging him was the fact that she was still horny for the masked man she hadn't fought alongside in years, despite sharing his civilian form's bed anytime she wished.
And the truth was, he'd wanted to climb into that dream with her - to make her moan and sigh, to do whatever she'd imagined and more.
It was so much easier once he was transformed. It'd been some time, and he'd let himself forget the power crackling in his veins, and the confidence surrounding him like a cape. Behind the mask, with the security of the form-fitting tuxedo against his skin, bounding across rooftops to Usagi's bedroom window was as easy as breathing.
She was just sitting up, wiping the sleep from her eyes, looking soft and warm and just-woken-up in her pink pajamas even though it was barely eleven o'clock. "Mamo-chan?" she murmured, then shook her head, "Tuxedo Kamen-sama? … Is there… something wrong?"
Mamoru stepped toward her, feet silent on her carpet, movements more catlike and quiet in this superhero form. "I just wanted to see you." He ran a gloved hand down her cheek and she colored instantly, pupils dilating.
"Oh," she still looked a bit dazed and a bit expectant, as if waiting for him to de-transform and become Mamoru, her steady and reliable boyfriend, to give her a chaste peck and then leave before the Tsukinos found him in their (albeit grown) daughter's room.
He held out a hand and eyes sparkling behind the mask. "Care to fly over the city tonight?"
Usagi blinked, shook her head a little and slowly curled her fingers around his white glove. The fabric was soft and warm from his hand underneath, and she knew it intimately from battles and rescues and dire situations, but this felt wholly new. "Sh-should I transform?" She surprised herself by feeling slightly nervous, as if this was new.
"Only if you want to," he answered and she - still wide-eyed and a bit thrown- shook her head slowly. So he gathered up Usagi - not Sailor Moon, just Usagi, clad in soft flannel, barefoot and surrounded by silky, loose blonde hair - into his arms and jumped out into the night.
With a small yelp, Usagi clutched at his jacket as the city flew by beneath them, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the warmth of Mamoru's chest. The last of her suspicions that this might be a dream spun away with each stomach dropping landing and leap from rooftop to rooftop.
When he finally set her down, bare feet on a dirty concrete roof, by the humming of a heating unit for whatever building they were on, Usagi had to brace her hand against his chest and bend over for a moment, dizzy. Sailor Moon was much more adept at handling this kind of travel.
When she recovered, Usagi shook out her hair and looked up at Mamoru through her eyelashes. Through the mask she caught a glimpse of the dark sea blue of his eyes. "Why?" she whispered, hands still on his chest, fingers sliding down the starch of his dress shirt.
"When I see you, my blood boils," he murmured, echoing the words he'd said to her so many years ago, remembered like a dream, before Mamoru and Tuxedo Kamen were one. Back when Usagi was still so young, dreaming not-so-innocent dreams of her first real crush, yelling at 'Mamoru-baka' on the streets of Juuban, searching for a moon princess with only the help of a little black cat. Just like then, it made her gulp.
"This was always my..." she was blushing, but not looking away, feeling his heart hammering under her hands. "... sort of my… like, girlhood fantasy."
"Tell me," he answered, hands tightening on her waist and pulling her closer, entranced by the waves and waves of golden hair, of the tempting triangle of skin where her top button was undone, the oh-so-blue eyes and oh-so-pink lips. As always, her sweet lusciousness made him half-drunk with desire, the cape and mask no protection against what had always, always been his weakness.
Usagi was always more of a show than tell type of girl, so she stood on tiptoes and curled her hands through the back of his hair, knocking the tophat askew, and pulled him down so she could press her lips to his. His hands climbed her back, into her hair, as he responded.
Like usual, her kisses completely submerged him in a world that included nothing - nothing - but her plump lips and soft breath and sweet smelling skin. For someone who took pride in his awareness and reflexes, it had taken him some time to get used to it, to being so oblivious to the world that he hadn't noticed, for example, Luna-P landing on his head all those years ago. Everything ceased to exist when Usagi's lips were on his.
As Tuxedo Kamen, every sense was heightened, he swore he could sense each pulse of blood in her veins, each synapse of energy in her mind, could feel her trust, her love, her arousal, surely as he could feel her fingers trailing down his neck.
She tugged him back until she was pressed against the wall of an enclosed stairwell, brick cold against her back even through the fabric of her pjs. She lifted one long leg to curl around his body, feeling his shudder against her, the mask scraping her neck as he buried his face in her shoulder, his mouth sucking on her flesh so deliciously hard she knew it'd leave a mark the next day. In her wildest teenage dreams she'd never thought she'd be able to show off a hickey from Tuxedo Kamen.
Usagi reached over to tip the hat off his head, pull the mask from his eyes, and pulled at the buttons of his shirt and vest. The cool metal of the decorative charm hanging from his neck brushed between her breasts as her top fell to the ground, and goosebumps rose on her skin. She tugged on his arms, pulling his hands reluctantly away from the band of her pants, so she could blindly pull off his gloves. It was hard focusing on something other than his mouth on her skin, tongue swirling and tasting, his touch so familiar but also so new - bolder somehow. Soon both his hands were free, gloves tossed aside, and she'd unhooked his cape, too.
Usagi then gave up on the layers of minutiae that made up the top of his outfit, and focused instead on his pants, fumbling for his zipper and pulling helplessly on his suspenders. Meanwhile, he slipped his hands easily down her elastic waistband, grabbing her panty-clad ass with a moan.
Throwing her head back in ecstasy, Usagi looked at the city sky stretched above them, the moon peeking through the clouds, orange light in the sky from the city below them. Tuxedo Kamen was melting against her, his erection pushing against the silken fabric of his pants and against her lower belly. She ran her palm along the front of his pants, his arousal twitching against her hand.
His breath was harsh and quick against her ear, "What do you want?" It was clear from the pulsing of his cock against her that he was ready and willing, and all she had to do was say the word and he'd be inside her, pants around his ankles and jacket undone, fucking her back against the wall while the world disappeared around them in a haze of desire and fulfilled fantasy.
But Usagi wasn't fourteen anymore. And Tuxedo Kamen wasn't an untouchable mystery, a safe way for her to dreamily imagine sex and love.
Almost forcefully, she tugged at his chin until he was facing her, mask-less blue eyes framed by dark lashes. She took one of his hands, lacing her fingers through his. Those long, tapered fingers that she'd watched spin pencils while he studied, practically drooling at the thought of what they could do to her, if he'd only put down the damn physics textbook.
"Mamo-chan," she whispered, looking into his eyes. Then she pushed his pants down with both hands and pulled his hips toward her. "I love you."
Tuxedo Kamen had a bit more strength in his arms than Mamoru normally did, and that did come in handy when he lifted her ass so she could ride him with both legs around his waist and her back braced on the wall, and he did look so incredibly edible in that tuxedo, and the rooftop in the moonlight was achingly romantic.
But it was Mamoru's name she screamed as she came, clawing at his hair and throwing her head back against the brick (that would also, she realized later, leave a mark). Fantasies were nice, but nothing compared to what Usagi had for real.
Breathless and lost in the afterglow, Usagi wrapped herself in his cape and curled next to him, toes working in the silk fabric of his pants as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "So… can I fulfill a fantasy for you?" she asked, giggling a bit. "Did you always wanna do it with Sailor Moon, up in a lampost maybe?"
"Hmmm," Mamoru said, thinking. "Actually, do you think you could find a nun costume?"
Even though he was still transformed and she wasn't, the punch on his arm hurt much more than he expected it to.