First Come, First Serve by Sereia

First Come, First Serve

Author's musings: For SAFE 2021

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers, "There's only one bed"

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First Come, First Serve

She needed a drink.

Kagome's shoe tapped against the tiles as she waited for the concierge to finish programming her key card. She'd never been to the Ritz-Carlton before, even with how popular her recent cookbook was, she wasn't about to waste money on staying in a high-end hotel when a hostel was just as good.

"We're looking forward to your seminar, Miss Higurashi. My sister is a big fan."

Forcing a smile, Kagome nodded her head. She was dead on her feet, holding onto the counter to keep herself from swaying. Until that afternoon, she'd been travelling across Europe, touring various hotel restaurants to train new pastry chefs.

Desserts were her specialty. She was well-versed in all areas of the kitchen—her cookbook covered all kinds of delicacies—but she loved making sweets the most. They required an eye for detail and Kagome loved coming up with new ways to showcase unique ingredient combinations.

"Your room is on the 51st floor, Miss Higurashi, and comes with a spectacular view of the city as well as one of our signature deep relaxing tubs."

That made her perk up. Maybe being up for almost 24 hours straight would be worth it if she could lounge in a huge bathtub before she passed out. The flight from Berlin had been terrible and her body ached from being squished between a snoring old woman and a grotesque teenager whose every third word had been 'like'.

She gripped the pen tightly as she wrote down her mother's phone number as her emergency contact, then collected the hotel's brochure and key card, intent on becoming best friends with her bed.

"Oh, Miss Higurashi, Mr. Boulay left a message stating he'd like to meet with you before your presentation tomorrow. La Boutique opens at 10:00am but he'll be available before then while the pastries are being prepped."

"Thank you. Please let him know I'll join him at 9:00am. Can you mark me down for an 8:15am wakeup call?"

The young woman smiled genuinely and nodded. Tired as she was, Kagome couldn't stop the buzz of excitement coursing through her body at the thought of working with the renowned French pastry chef Jimmy Boulay. La Boutique was the sweet shop in the area and Chef Boulay loved to change up the menu depending on the season.

She couldn't wait to pick his brain and incorporate his techniques into her own cooking. Catching a second wind, her brain began a list of questions she was going to ask him. She adjusted the strap of her backpack and turned towards the elevator.

"One last thing!"

Stifling a groan, she turned back, the forced smile back on her face.

"A table has been set aside in the Towers restaurant at noon with Chef Miyazaki."

"Ah, is that to—"

"Mr. Taisho will be joining you to discuss the schedule of the seminars for the next week."

Kagome's jaw clenched and she nodded stiffly, then turned on her heel and almost stomped towards the elevators.

How could she have forgotten about Mr. High and mighty, how-dare-you-use-red-meat-in-your recipes Taisho?

"Just because you're a pescatarian, doesn't mean the rest of us have to be," she grumbled under her breath. She'd known the man since culinary school and he'd been getting under her skin for only a few minutes less than that.

He was a master at what he did, she wouldn't deny that, but his personality was that of an arrogant slug. She doubted he'd ever looked at her without the bridge of his nose in his vision, which he constantly had in the air any time she was near him.

Just because she didn't have family money to back up her career didn't mean she was any less qualified to be a chef. Mama did what she could, but she had the shrine to think about. Kagome hadn't wanted to burden her with extra bills, so she'd worked multiple jobs to ensure her student debt didn't follow her too long after she'd graduated.

And now she could travel the world without worrying where her next meal was going to be. First Class may still be a little out of her price range, but the sales from her cookbooks were doing well and now she was catching the eyes of Michelin Star chefs.

So what if she had to share the spotlight with Taisho once in a while? He was an ass, but she gave as much as she took. Plus, every time they'd competed in a dessert challenge, she came out on top.

Kagome snickered to herself as she pressed the call button for the elevator, remembering the look of pure shock on his face when she'd used bacon fat as a substitute for butter and created a chocolate tarte during a breakfast challenge. Not only were the judges thoroughly impressed, but it had blown his fancy eggs benedict right out of the water.

Adjusting her luggage so she could swipe her card, she waited for the elevator to beep, signaling its ascent to the designated hotel floors. Even in all her travels, she'd never stayed in a place with over 50 stories before. Not all of them were for the hotel—the rooms were contained to only nine floors—but it was still the tallest building she'd ever stayed in.

It also helped that the hotel was covering all the costs.

Not being the kind of person to revel in her own glory, the incidents with Taisho not included, Kagome preferred to keep her nose to the ground. She was from humble beginnings, and while she wasn't ashamed to be so, it gave her a different perspective. She didn't need all the glamour and flashing lights to prove she could cook.

Seeing people's faces when they ate her food and knowing their smiles were put there because of the flavours she had chosen was the best feeling in the world.

Maybe she'd open a string of cafés one day. The thought had crossed her mind more than once. For now, she wanted to gain as much knowledge as she could, which meant jumping through a few hoops in order to spend quality time with French pastry chefs.

The elevator slowed to a stop and a bell chimed, signalling she'd reached her floor. Rolling her neck to try and release some tension, she stepped between the metal doors and onto lush carpet. Checking the room number once more, she dug her cell phone out of her pocket, taking a few pictures to share with Mama and her friends when she finally made it home for a visit.

She paused outside the door of her room to update her calendar, pursing her lips as she put Taisho's name into the notes of her lunch meeting tomorrow. She could've been petty and put a pseudonym in—calling him Jaws to his face always put her in a good mood—but on the slight chance one of the chefs saw her notes, she wanted to remain respectful.

"It doesn't help that he looks like he was carved from marble either." High cheekbones, golden eyes, and hair so pale it shone had people, male and female, fawning all over him any time he wasn't cooking. Kagome wasn't unaffected by it—had even contemplated asking him out in the beginning—but after a disastrous first meeting, followed by a sneer and a heated exchange of words, she wasn't about to give him any other fodder to throw at her.

The Do Not Disturb sign on the door handle had her brow crinkling in confusion, but she brushed it off. It was well-past the regular check-in time, so housekeeping had probably put it there knowing she'd be arriving straight from the airport. Keeping her phone out so she could take pictures of the room, she tapped her card against the door panel, then let herself in.

Dropping her backpack in the entrance hall, she gazed around in wonder, taking in the mahogany accents on the furniture and the walls. Everything looked pristine and she was scared to disturb even the coat hangers in the closet. A childish impulse came over her and she strode towards the bedroom, intent on leaping onto the king-sized bed she'd read about on the taxi ride over.

Her phone still raised, she threw open the adjoining door, then stopped dead in her tracks.

Someone was already on the bed.

Someone she knew.

Kagome stared, slack-jawed at the image of Sesshoumaru Taisho himself sitting cross-legged on the plush comforter in nothing but a t-shirt and boxer shorts. His normally immaculate hair was pulled back into a messy half bun, and she'd clearly caught him in the middle of eating, a large piece of steak dangling from his mouth.

The meat was so rare that blood was dripping down his chin.

She wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep, but the wires in her brain crossed and she was unable to form words. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn't hallucinating, but his image remained, body as frozen as hers as they continued to gape at each other.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the rest of her senses caught up with her eyes and what she was looking at finally computed in her brain.

"What are you doing in my room?!" she screeched.

Sesshoumaru choked on his food as he shoved it into his mouth. "I was about to ask you the same question."

"I just got here! The front desk assigned me this room!" She tugged the key card out of her pocket and showed it to him, as if he could somehow see the room number programmed into the computer chip inside. "It's written on my paperwork as well, so grab your shit and get out!"

His eyes narrowed. "I am not going anywhere, Higurashi. This is my assigned room. Clearly the front desk has made a mistake." As if to make a point, he cut into his steak again, bringing a large chunk to his lips and tearing into it.

She opened her mouth to retort, then suddenly realized what he was eating, shock coursing through her. Managing to keep her wits about her this time, and still fresh off her inner monologue about how much of an ass he was, she quickly focused her camera. She waited until he looked up at her again, then clicked. She'd keep it as a possible blackmail for the future, maybe to force him to pull out of a competition once in a while.

The entire room lit up.

She'd forgotten the flash was on.

All of the blood drained out of his face, his chin still painted red from his previous bite. Sucking the meat into his mouth, he swallowed in record time, laying his utensils on the plate in front of him. The hairs on the back of Kagome's neck stood up on end but she refused to be intimidated by him.

"I thought you didn't eat meat."

"It is not usually something I indulge in."

"'Not usually'?" She glared at him as he rose to his feet. "You're such a fucking hypocrite! You give me shit all the time about how it's bad for the environment and how real chefs don't require it to make good food and yet here you are, stuffing your face with steak so rare I can practically hear it mooing!"

"Delete the photo, Higurashi."

"No way! I'm keeping it as insurance. Now pack up and get out of my room, I've had a long day and I wanna go to sleep."

He slid off the bed, moving like a panther as he stalked towards her. "Delete it, or I will do it for you."

She took an involuntary step backwards, instincts screaming at her to hide from the predator in front of her but she grit her teeth, refusing to back down. He reached for her phone, but she smacked his hand out of the way.

"You're the one who's always going on about all the wonders of being a pescatarian. I wonder what your fans would think if they found out you eat meat like the rest of us plebeians."

He reached for her again, but she darted into the living room, clutching her phone in both hands. Neither of them had bothered to turn on any lights when they'd entered the room, so only the dim twinkling of the skyline gave her any indication as to where he was.

Amber eyes blazed at her, the blood on his chin making him look more animal than human. "Last chance, Higurashi." His voice was low, threatening.

Feral.

Kagome swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach. Under normal circumstances, she might've been turned on by this. If she looked up 'pristine' in the dictionary, Taisho's picture would be included in the definition.

She couldn't remember a single time he'd even had a stain on his chef whites. Every time they competed, regardless of who won, she always came out looking like a bomb had gone off in her kitchen. Various colours splattered on her uniform, hair a mess from the number of times she'd tried to keep the unruly waves out of her face.

But not Taisho. It was like the ingredients were scared of getting anywhere close to his clothes, nevermind his hair or his face. She couldn't imagine cooking without things getting a little wild or out of hand. Making a mess was part of the fun.

Part of the magic.

The man in front of her now was nothing like the one she was used to. Hell, she'd never even seen him in anything but his chef whites or a suit. If she'd been asked if he actually owned a t-shirt, she probably would've said no.

Backing up against the far wall, she hid her phone behind her back. The clouds shifted and suddenly the room was bathed in moonlight, his long, blonde hair turning silver as he cornered her. Lithe muscles tensed under alabaster skin and Kagome forced herself to keep her eyes on his face, even as heat pooled in her stomach.

"I did not think you were the type to resort to blackmail."

Blue eyes turned stormy, and she jutted her chin out, incensed. "I never said anything about blackmailing you! I don't need to resort to petty antics to be better than you, my cooking does that by itself."

His lips pulled back in a smirk, white teeth gleaming like fangs in the darkness. "And yet I am the one with a restaurant."

She used her free hand to shove him away, his body moving all of an inch before she thrust a finger in his face.

"You couldn't bake a better dessert than me if you had an entire team of Michelin star chefs at your disposal."

"It takes more than a few puff pastries to be a real chef."

"I am a real chef, you asshole!" Her foot shot out and connected with his shin, then she ducked around him, attempting to escape. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her back, trapping her between his body and the wall.

"Must you always be so stubborn?"

"I'm so sick of you looking down on me! I've worked just as hard as you and I've even beaten you a few times! What is it going to take for you to see me as your equal?"

A pale eyebrow rose. "Is that why you've chosen this career? To try and surpass me?"

She let out an enraged snarl and grabbed the collar of his shirt, her phone clattering to the floor. "Listen here, you pompous, self-absorbed, hypocritical pond scum, I've loved cooking since I was a kid! It has nothing to do with you!"

A strange emotion swirled within his eyes and she swore she saw him smile. She blinked and it was gone, but the occurrence still left her rattled. Suddenly aware of their current position, she pressed herself against the wall behind her.

"Let me go."

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I can provide you with a dictionary, if you are unclear on the definition." His predatory gaze glowed in the dim lighting, sliding down to her mouth and her breath hitched in her throat. She tried to release his collar, but he was already moving, bending his head to hers.

Her body was still buzzing from yelling at him and the space between them crackled with angry electricity. Anger she could deal with. It had been there, festering for years, in every interaction, every venom-filled word that passed between them. The constant sneers and disdain and one-upping each other during public appearances. Telling him that she loved cooking as a kid wasn't a lie, but she couldn't deny the fire that drove her to be better wasn't fuelled by him.

She expected bruising, biting, maybe even a little blood.

She was not prepared for the subtle caress of his fingers on the back of her neck as he tilted her head back. Or his lips brushing against hers as he pulled her against him. Her body arced with how tall he was, but there was no demand in his touch, no pressure to respond. He cradled her like he was afraid of breaking her, one hand on her hip as the other one slid from the back of her neck to cup her cheek.

He flicked his tongue out against her bottom lip. Tasting. Teasing.

And suddenly she was the one pulling him closer, trying to ignite the fire that had been burning between them only moments before. Her nerves were fried from the lack of sleep and now he was making her head spin.

And not for the right reasons.

All too soon, he was pulling back, his eyes cautious and searching as he stared down at her.

She wanted to smack him.

"What the hell was that?!"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you not aware what a kiss is?"

Giving into the earlier temptation, she punched him in the stomach. "I know what a kiss is, smartass. Why did you kiss me like that? I mean, I know you hate me, so why—"

"I have never hated you."

Blue eyes widened in shock, and she gaped at him. "W-What?"

"Must I keep repeating myself?"

"B-But—" she sputtered.

"I have wanted you since the day we met."

"What?!" she shrieked, disbelief coursing through her entire body. "But I sprayed you with compote because I forgot to put the lid on the blender properly! You got mad at me for ruining your clothes!"

"It was the only way to hide my reaction to you."

"Your reaction…?"

"Your anger is always a turn on." He closed the space between them, grinding his hips and his obvious arousal against her. She bit her tongue, forcing back the moan that threatened to escape her lips.

"But… I'm always angry with you! How many times have I yelled at you? I don't think we been together without—" He ground against her again and she looked down at the tent in his boxers. "Always?"

"Why do you think I am always dressed in a suit when you are around?"

A dark blush spilled onto her cheeks as she remembered each of their interactions, his eyes seeming to change whenever she'd blow up at him, how he'd moved away from her afterwards.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I was under the impression you hated me and did not want to suffer the humiliation of being rebuffed."

"If I'd known you were interested, I probably wouldn't have yelled at you so much."

Sesshoumaru's lips curved up into a seductive smirk. "We have already established that I enjoyed your harsh words."

A dark eyebrow raised. "Are you a masochist?"

He brushed his fingers under the hem of her shirt, nails dragging against her skin. "You have clearly never viewed yourself in a mirror when you have been angry. It is quite a sight to behold."

The blush returned, her breath coming out in shallow pants. Kagome finally released his shirt, sliding her hands up into his pale hair, watching as a multitude of emotions swirled in his eyes.

"Next time, just tell me."

"Next time?"

"Shut up. Kiss me again. Like you mean it."

"I meant every—" She didn't let him finish—her patience wearing thin—pulling him down before her lips crashed against his. He gasped and she slipped her tongue into his mouth, encouraging him to respond. It wasn't until she hooked her leg over his hip that his surprise finally wore off and she found herself pinned harshly against the wall.

One hand dug into the flesh of her ass as he thrust his hips against her, soaking her thong in the process. She silently cursed herself for not doing laundry before she left Berlin, her jeans being one of the only clean pieces of clothing in her luggage. They were too thick, too constricting. She wanted to feel him. All of him.

He seemed to come to the same conclusion, as he was already attacking her zipper, pushing the coarse fabric over her hips before lifting her out of them. Her legs locked around his waist, and he ground his erection against her again, almost pushing into her with the thin layers separating them.

Her nails dug into his scalp as she wriggled against him, her desperation palpable as her tongue tangled with his. The sound of her moan was muffled—swallowed—as he staggered back towards the bedroom, one hand firmly massaging her ass as the other slipped under her shirt. His fingers splayed wide against her spine, burning her skin.

The door to the bedroom bounced against the wall as he kicked it out of the way, and she jerked in his arms, the movement knocking him off balance. The back of his knees hit the edge of the bed before they both toppled over, Sesshoumaru ending up on his back with Kagome on top of him.

"Sorry—"

"I am not." Hooking his hand behind her knees, he yanked her forward, connecting their pelvises again as he sat up, his mouth sliding up her neck. Her head fell back, dragging in a ragged breath before tugging at his t-shirt.

"Take this off."

She felt his lips curve up into a smile and she couldn't decide if she wanted to pull back so she could see it or pull him closer so his mouth would continue to set her flesh on fire.

"Patience has never been one of your strong points."

She opened her mouth to blast him but he obliged her request, throwing his shirt to the floor and she promptly forgot why she was mad. Baser instincts propelled her hands, sliding them over the planes of his chest. Fingers explored his stomach before brushing along the waistband of his boxers.

"Why do you hide this?" She immediately regretted the choice of words when he raised an eyebrow at her, smacking his shoulder as she blushed fiercely. "You know what I mean!"

A strong arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close as he dragged his tongue across her collarbone. "One must remain professional—"

"You could still get away with a simple dress shirt."

"I did not want to give anyone the impression I was open to their sexual invitation."

"And yet you're currently half naked in my hotel room."

"My hotel room. And I told you, I have wanted you since the beginning." Her heart swelled at how he was looking at her, his amber eyes full of promise. "Plus, you did not extend an invitation, you took it for yourself."

"I've had a really long day, don't let it go to your head."

His hand closed over hers before pushing them both below his waistband, wrapping her fingers around his erection. Both of them shuddered at the sensation. "I am already anticipating this being a fever dream brought on by the filet mignon."

She gripped him firmly, encircling his tip with her thumb as she watched his pupils dilate. Liquid heat coiled low in her stomach, and she moved her hand up and down, the pads of her fingers stroking his sensitive flesh. His breathing became strained, and she bit her lip, his arousal as potent as if he was still touching her.

"Sesshoumaru…"

His eyes flew open wide at the sound of his name, his face transforming into something primal and other before he knocked her hand out of the way, wrenching her shirt over her head. Kagome was barely given enough time to adjust to the loss of her clothes before his lips crashed against hers, the kiss eager and heady.

Desperate hands clawed at her bra, the material giving way before being tossed aside. Her head spun as his mouth trailed down her flushed skin, fingers clutching at pale tresses as her body tightened in anticipation. One hand brushed the underside of her breast, then lifted it to his mouth, latching onto her sensitive flesh.

Kagome keened, arcing against him while pulling him closer at the same time. Her arousal dampened his boxers and she ground against him, the ache between her thighs empty and wanting.

Letting out a savage moan, he let her nipple go with a pop. "I need to be inside you. Now."

She nodded, unable to form words as she pulled his face back to her chest. His lips parted willingly, and he sucked on her other breast, teeth scraping her skin as he reached between them. Pushing her panties out of the way, he dragged a finger through her lips before shoving it inside her, a second one soon following.

Her inner muscles clamped down on the intrusion and she bucked against him, the satisfaction at being filled warring with the dissatisfaction at it not being enough. His thumb teased her clit and she mewed, heat coiling low in her stomach.

"S-Sesshoum-maru… Please!"

He pulled his fingers out and she nearly cried out in protest, then stilled when the head of his cock pushed into her. Heart pounding in her chest, she met his gaze, desire and longing staring back at her. Her stomach lurched and she swallowed thickly, her knees digging into either side of his hips as she slowly lowered herself down, inch by searing inch.

He stretched her to the point of pain, but Kagome revelled in it, the pressure adding to her already heightened arousal. Finally releasing his hair, she pushed at his shoulders, forcing him to lie flat as she adjusted her position.

His gaze never left hers, unblinking as he watched her move. Her nails dug into his chest as she lowered herself again, grinding her hips back and forth before impaling herself on his straining cock, her rhythm relentless.

A myriad of colourful curses tumbled out of her mouth as she drove them to completion, harmonizing with the sound of their slick skin slapping against each other. Her body was on fire, burning hotter each time he filled her.

His hands slid up her thighs, pulling her down into each thrust as he bucked under her, the movement causing her to see stars. The fire that had been rapidly building suddenly engulfed her and Kagome's mouth opened in a silent scream.

There was no teetering on the precipice; she careened over the edge, her inner walls gripping him like a vice in order to take him with her.

Sesshoumaru let out a snarl, his fingers bruising her flesh. He slammed up into her again, continuing to thrust even as he released inside her. The added pressure had Kagome crying out, her body spasming again as the first climax bled into a second. Tingling sensations tickled her spine as she collapsed on top of him, blood roaring in her ears.

They lay there in silence, their ragged breathing the only sound in the quiet room. Exhaustion tugged at the edges of her mind, her second wind suddenly waning. She felt at ease with him for the first time since they'd met.

Safe.

Knowing it was better to address the elephant in the room before a morning filled with regrets, she attempted to move off of him only for a steel arm to wrap around her waist, keeping her in place.

"Do not…"

"I wasn't doing anything—"

"Do not try to put distance between us. I have seen you. Felt you. I will not let you go."

Startled, she looked up at him. His expression was intense but…something. Something more and Kagome found herself tilting her chin up.

The sweet, seductive kiss from before returned with a vengeance and her arms snaked around his neck, the subtle caress of his tongue making her toes curl. He was already hardening inside her and she shivered, whimpering softly.

But he simply shifted them onto their sides, his arm still wrapped possessively around her.

"Sleep, Kagome. We will discuss this in the morning."

She opened her mouth to protest but all that came out was a jaw-cracking yawn. He chuckled against her temple, nuzzling her hair.

"I thought you said this was a fever dream."

"Hnn. Though perhaps with how often I have had it, the fates have grown tired of my nightly requests and granted me my wish."

She let out a groan too tired to argue with him. "I'll let you know in the morning. But if it was a dream, you're sleeping on the couch, I call dibs on the bed. It's mine." Burying her face against his neck, she was asleep within moments, unaware of how his expression softened as he watched her, or how he planned to turn the bed from hers to theirs.