Chapter Text
From then on, time passes more slowly. Ava doesn’t come on to Beatrice anymore, not like she used to. She doesn’t throw her heavy and insistent glances, she doesn’t slide a bold innuendo in the middle of a conversation, she doesn’t push. She waits for Beatrice to move at her own pace, faith and love fueling her patience, and it’s surprisingly peaceful, surprisingly pleasant. There’s nothing more Ava can do but wait, and she’s happy to. Beatrice is still there, after all, always there, quiet and commanding and caring, her smiles fond and her eyes bright, and for this Ava would fight the whole world or wait an eternity long.
Her hunger lies dormant in her lower stomach, sometimes waking up when Beatrice stands too close, when she uses her lower voice as she orders Ava around, or way later at night, when Ava comes home after a long shift and she lies in the very bed Beatrice’s fucked her in for the first—and only—time. Then, then, she lets her hunger run loose, she lets the beast go wild, and she bites the pillow as she pretends it’s Beatrice’s hand she’s frantically riding, as she thinks about Beatrice’s legs spread open, about Beatrice’s mouth on hers, about her voice and her fingers and her tongue and her skin and the thundering silence of her orgasms.
Two weeks after that night at the Arc, that night at Ava’s place, Beatrice tells her, “I’d like to teach you how to swim,” and Ava’s heart blooms in her chest. She knows why. She’s been expecting it, even. Beatrice needs her to learn how to swim before she can learn how to surf, and the idea that she’s still doing this, still making Ava’s dreams come true, still getting out of her way to check all of Ava’s little boxes, this idea that Beatrice loves her makes her head spin. Because, yeah. It’s obvious to her now. Beatrice loves her. And maybe she’ll need a month or a year to say it, to fully accept Ava in her life, but it’s okay. It’s okay, it’s so okay. Ava will wait, a month, a year or ten, and she won’t give up, not on her, not on someone so devoted to make her happy.
So, when Beatrice asks Ava if she wants to go to the beach the next Friday, Ava smiles, says yes and buys a swimming suit the very same day. That Friday, Beatrice picks her up in front of her building. The ride to the beach is easy and lively, Ava plugging her phone to the dashboard of the Jeep and singing K/DA out loud until, to her greatest delight, Beatrice caves in and starts singing alongside her, babbling incoherent lyrics and laughing and drumming on the wheel with her fingers. They’re both horrible singers, but they don’t care. Life’s too short, right?
They go to the same spot on the beach as when they first went there, by the large rocks on which they sat and shared a picnic.
“It’s our date spot!” Ava jokes.
Beatrice blushes and pinches her lips but, for the very first time, she doesn’t correct her. It makes Ava’s heart race wildly, and she can’t help the stupid smile on her face. Beatrice hands her some sunscreen and, soon, they’re both lotioned up and ready to tackle the day.
“Okay, Ava. I need you to listen to me carefully.”
Ava exaggeratedly frowns and squints and pouts as if she’s suddenly the most serious girl in the world, and Beatrice rolls her eyes.
“I mean it, Ava. This is a matter of safety.”
“Sorry.”
Ava takes a little breath, serious for real this time, and Beatrice’s face softens.
“We won’t go where you won’t be able to touch the ground, but just in case I need you to stay within an arm’s reach. If anything happens, a bigger wave or a stronger current, I need you to remain calm. I’m here, I’m strong and I’ve had lifeguard training. I’ll be able to rescue you.”
Ava snorts. “Of course you’ve had lifeguard training. Jesus, Bea, there really isn’t anything you can’t do!”
“False.” Beatrice crosses her arms over her chest, the tiniest smile shadowing her lips. “I already told you I’m a terrible singer, and you’ve just had proof.”
Ava waves her hand in the air. “Nonsense! I’ve never heard more melodious singing in my life!”
Beatrice laughs and so does Ava; they both know it’s a brazen lie.
“Okay, serious now,” Beatrice commands, but she’s still smiling. “One last thing before we go into the water, because we can never be too safe…”
She leans over her backpack, opens it, and pulls out two very yellow things Ava has to squint at for a good five seconds before she yelps.
“Are those—Did you—You brought duck floaties?!”
“It’s all they had in the store,” Beatrice says, face all stoic again, before she brings one of the armbands to her mouth and starts blowing into the plastic tip.
Ava gapes as she watches the duck slowly get into shape, staring at her with its huge, lifeless eyes.
“You can’t possibly be serious right now.”
Beatrice raises an eyebrow, finishes inflating the armband and closes the cap. “Your safety comes first.”
“No, no way, I’m not wearing that!”
“Ava.”
Ava takes a deep breath, looks at the sky, the sea, everywhere but Beatrice, before turning her nose up, drawing the sharpest breath and throwing her hands in the air.
“Fine!” She points an accusing finger at Beatrice. “I’m doing this for you, and you only. And I will make you pay for this!”
Beatrice starts blowing into the second armband, obviously unaffected by Ava’s grand gesture and threat, and soon she’s handing Ava the two ducks, yellow enough they can probably see them from the fucking ISS. Ava snatches the hideous things and shoves her arms into them before marching towards the sea, fuming and thanking whatever gods are up there that the beach is currently deserted. Only when she realizes Beatrice isn’t following does she turn around, and she finds her standing exactly where she left her, pointing her phone camera at her, a silent giggle shaking her shoulders.
“You—Wait… Are you fucking with me right now?” Beatrice’s quiet laugh turns hearty, and Ava’s already walking back to her. “Oh my fucking god!” She’s outraged and yet laughing too, because well fuck Beatrice really got her on that one. “I can’t believe you did this to me!” She rips the armbands off and dramatically throws them on the sand. “Meanwhile I’m here willing to undergo trial by fire for you! I put the fucking ducks on, Bea!”
“I’m sorry.” Beatrice’s still laughing, eyes wet with tears—and what a sight, really, to see her so unrestrained and full of joy. “I had to.”
“Yeah? Well you’re going to regret it!”
Ava launches herself at her, trying to grab her wrist and to throw her on the sand, but Beatrice’s quicker, even when half bent with laughter, and she immediately deviates Ava’s hand and squeezes it into a tight lock behind her back.
“Did you just try to use aikido on me, Ava?”
Ava groans, turns her head as much as she can to spot Beatrice out of the corner of her eye.
“Maybe?”
Beatrice releases her from her hold but doesn’t let go of her wrist, effortlessly making her spin to face her again.
“That’s—” Her eyes drop to Ava’s lips. Oh. “—quite appealing of you.” Oh.
“I should try to tackle you to the ground way more often, then.”
Beatrice’s eyes dart back up to Ava’s. Her thumb brushes over Ava’s wrist, once, the faintest caress, and it shoots a lightning bolt through Ava’s whole body.
“I thought,” Beatrice begins, voice catching in her throat, “I thought you weren’t interested anymore.”
“What?”
Ava immediately sets a hand over Beatrice’s, and Beatrice looks over Ava’s shoulder, eyebrows now tugged by a little frown.
“You’ve been less—flirty, those past two weeks, and after the way I left your place last time I honestly cannot blame you.”
“Beatrice, oh my god.” Ava can’t help but utter a loud laugh as she realizes what Beatrice is saying.
“It’s because I’m so interested in you that I’m acting like this. I just want to give you the time and space you need to figure it out!”
“Oh.” Beatrice’s looking at her feet now, and Ava finds her impossibly cute, impossibly endearing, impossibly perfect. “I feel very dumb,” Beatrice confesses with a chuckle.
“God, Bea.” Ava takes a step forward. She’s this close to say it. I love you, you dumbass. She catches herself at the last second, raises a hand against Beatrice’s cheek instead. “Look at me.”
Beatrice does, and the rest of the world stops existing. It’s like a punch in the face, like a free-fall from the tallest cliff, like being done and undone a billion times at the very same moment, and Ava has to fight her lips and tongue from moving—give her time and space, don’t push, don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t—
Beatrice frames her face between her hands and kisses her. It feels like Ava’s brought back to life. The world starts existing again, the sea breeze ruffling her hair, the scents of salt and algae and warm rock, the melody of the gentle waves lapping the shore, the sand burning under her bare feet, Beatrice’s lips against her own.
When Beatrice steps away, Ava sighs. She’s one lucky woman, to be kissed by someone like her over and over again.
“I’m sorry I was so pushy all the time,” she croaks.
Beatrice stares at her, a frown on her perfect face, her fingers sliding along Ava’s arm to catch her hand. “You weren’t pushy.”
“I kept coming on to you!”
“You kept giving me a choice,” Beatrice corrects with a soft voice, hand squeezing Ava’s. “But ultimately? I’m the one who took every single first step in this relationship.”
Ava gets lost in Beatrice’s bright eyes for a moment. She kept feeling like she was testing Beatrice’s limits and pushing her boundaries over and over again, but now that she thinks of it… Beatrice was the one inviting her in her shower stall and kissing her first. Beatrice was the one dragging her to the toilet in the bar. Beatrice was the one offering to drive her to the hot springs, to have them all alone in this insanely beautiful place where they could explore their desires to their heart’s content. Beatrice was the one begging her to stay that night in the office, Beatrice was the one showing up at the Arc uninvited and following Ava into her building. Beatrice, it was all Beatrice, and it makes Ava’s heart overflow with gratitude to realize how much she’s been wanted and loved those past months.
“All you did was make it clear that you were interested,” Beatrice continues, and Ava didn’t think anyone could look at her with that much tenderness in their eyes. “And I’m—” She bites her lip. Her voice turns into a whisper. “I’m glad you did.”
Ava smiles like a fool in love—which, yeah, she totally is.
“Thank you,” Beatrice says, “for giving me time and space. But I don’t need you to.”
“No?”
Beatrice shakes her head. “Not unless you want me to think you’re not interested again.”
“I definitely don’t want that,” Ava chuckles, and Beatrice laughs quietly with her.
Then, she points at the sea with a tilt of the head. “Shall we?”
“Hell yeah!” Ava beams.
As, they walk towards the water, Ava can’t stop smiling. Today is a beautiful day, and the traumatic duck armbands incident is now long forgotten.
*
It turns out Ava’s a natural at swimming. Not that she doesn’t struggle at first. It takes her a little while to learn how water works around her body, to accept that, in this quiet sea, she has more control over it than it does over her. When Beatrice teaches her how to float on her back and Ava lets herself just lie there and be carried by the sea, she gets so happy and overwhelmed she starts laughing uncontrollably and ends up swallowing a good chug of salty water. Beatrice holds her as she brutally straightens up to find the ground again, half choking and half laughing.
“Don’t make me get the ducks!” Beatrice teases, and Ava laughs even more.
After that, everything goes smoothly. Beatrice holds her hands flat under her stomach or around her hips to support her, and Ava goes from not swimming at all to swimming like a little dog to swimming the breaststroke in barely one hour and a half.
“You’re doing amazing,” Beatrice tells her in a low tone as Ava clumsily dabbles in circles around her.
It shouldn’t have an effect on her but it does, and Ava’s hunger awakens, claws at her lower stomach, nests itself into her crotch. It completely derails her from what she’s doing and her movements lose all coordination, water suddenly splashing against her face. One second later, she’s feet on the ground again, Beatrice having quickly tipped her body up to get her head out of the water.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, sorry.” Ava coughs a little, takes a deep breath, feels her cheeks heating up even though the water is fresh. “I got a bit distracted.”
The corner of Beatrice’s lips curls up into a knowing smile. “No more compliment for you, then.”
“What? No! I—”
Ava stares at Beatrice. She can feel her hand still on her stomach, the other one on the small of her back, keeping her grounded and safe and so very aroused all of a sudden.
“I like it,” Ava eventually rasps.
Beatrice’s fingers twitch against her abs.
“Noted.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
“I think that’s enough water for today,” Beatrice says as she breaks contact and starts moving back to the shore.
For once, Ava agrees.
*
Beatrice drops her off in front of her building. Ava barely has to pout; Beatrice rolls her eyes and gets out of the car to walk her to the door, still smiling all along the way.
“Do you want to do this again this Sunday?” Beatrice asks as she checks her watch—oh, right, she still has to go back to the gym this afternoon.
“Yes please!” Ava singsongs.
“Is 4 pm okay for you? The sun won’t hit as hard then.”
“It’s perfect.”
Ava bites her bottom lip, slightly leans forward and murmurs, “I really want to kiss you goodbye.”
Beatrice swallows, eyes darting to Ava’s lips, then nervously to the passersby on the sidewalk, and Ava giggles.
“It’s okay, Bea. I just wanted you to know. That I’m, you know, interested.”
She grins and Beatrice might well pinch her lips, her smile still shows.
“I’ll see you on Sunday,” Ava says.
She grabs Beatrice’s hand, squeezes it once, turns around and steps inside her building. Sunday can’t come fast enough.
*
Ava did something. It was an impulse, really, one of those whims she doesn’t even think about before indulging them, a thoughtless act that might get her in trouble later—which kind of trouble, good or bad, she doesn’t quite know yet. She did it that very afternoon after the beach, after Beatrice went back to work and Ava didn’t quite feel like coming back to her apartment yet. Now she’s sitting on her bed, the proof of what she did resting in a box on her little desk, impossible to ignore. She should put it away, she thinks as she starts getting ready for work. But she doesn’t.
*
Sunday comes with the crowd, people bringing kids and books and parasols and enjoying their weekend, and the beach is charged with yells and laughers and energy. Ava loves it. She doesn’t even care if people can see she’s a grown-up learning how to swim, and truth be told, nobody but Beatrice is paying attention. The only downside is that there’s no way Ava can sneak in a kiss amongst that many folks, but she’ll survive. Plus, she now has explicit permission to act flirty again, and she doesn’t miss any opportunity to do so. By the end of their beach session, Ava’s way more comfortable with swimming, and Beatrice has blushed and rolled her eyes so many times Ava has lost count.
They get back into the car as the sun is starting to set and they laugh during the whole drive. When Beatrice parks the Jeep in front of Ava’s building, Ava doesn’t immediately get out of the car. She’s fidgeting on her seat, a bit excited and a bit nervous, because today—like every day with Beatrice—has been fun and colorful and full of this exquisite tension always sparking between them, and, most importantly, today neither of them is working.
“Do you want to come upstairs?” Ava finally asks.
Beatrice stares at her, smiles, turns the engine off.
“Yes,” is all she says, and Ava deserves a medal for not shouting for joy at this very moment.
They both get out of the Jeep and Beatrice grabs a backpack from the trunk. When Ava raises a questioning eyebrow at her, she blushes a little.
“Spare clothes,” she explains as they walk inside the building.
“Spare clothes? Did you plan to come home with me today, Bea?”
Beatrice doesn’t answer, but she’s now red from cheeks to ears and Ava can’t help her laugh.
“Oh, you naughty naughty girl.”
Beatrice rolls her eyes but she’s smiling, and Ava can’t resist any longer. She drops a kiss on Beatrice’s lips, backs away, hums as the elevator door opens and they walked inside. It’s both natural and surreal, to kiss Beatrice like that. It both feels like a comforting habit and the start of something new. It both soothes her and sets her on fire.
“It was just a precaution,” Beatrice finally mutters as Ava pushes the third-floor button.
“Sure, honey.”
She can hear Beatrice’s quiet laugh as the door closes, that little blow of air through the nose she can’t quite hide, and Ava leans to her side, presses her shoulder against Beatrice’s, slides a hand on her forearm. When she feels the gentle pressure of Beatrice’s head against her own, she sighs. A few seconds later, the door opens again and the moment doesn’t quite break. It lingers even as they walk out of the elevators, knuckles brushing against knuckles, as Ava turns her key into the lock and Beatrice quietly waits at her side, as they enter her apartment and drop their bags on the floor. Then, then, Beatrice grabs Ava’s hand, tugs it a little to bring her close, and they’re kissing, they’re kissing, and it’s tender and passionate enough Ava ends up with her back pressed against the door.
“Let’s take a shower together,” she breathes out against Beatrice’s mouth, and when Beatrice nods she wraps her hand around her wrist and leads her to the bathroom.
They don’t make a show at undressing. It’s casual and fun and a little dizzying, how comfortable they are with each other. Ava turns the water on and, when it finally gets hot, they both step under the spray. The shower is barely big enough for the both of them, and they chuckle as hot water rushes over their head, as they squeeze their naked bodies together and their limbs tangle and water drips at the corner of their eyes.
“Back where we started, uh,” Ava jokes.
Beatrice laughs and kisses her. They don’t have sex in the shower. There’s not enough room, and the mood isn’t quite there yet. Instead, they kiss and giggle and rub soap on each other’s skin and shampoo in each other’s hair, and it’s so intimate and warm Ava files it as one of her favorite experiences ever—along with many, many other experiences she shared with Beatrice. When they’ve washed off all the sea salt and sand from their body and hair, they turn the water off, and soon Ava’s handing a clean towel to Beatrice. They dry themselves side by side, Ava playfully bumping her hip against Beatrice, Beatrice chuckling like a little school girl playing hide-and-seek.
They leave the bathroom, and before Beatrice can move to her backpack and get her spare clothes, Ava drags her to the bed. They fall on it, quiet giggles filling the air, and immediately their bodies settle against each other. Beatrice on her back, Ava in her arms, head on her shoulder and a leg wrapped around her thigh.
“Back where we finished,” Beatrice murmurs, and it’s true, they were exactly in the same position that day after Beatrice finally, finally fucked Ava for the first time, right before she panicked and left. It feels like a do over, a second chance, and Ava seizes it with a soft smile.
“Stay over tonight,” she says, lifting her head up to gaze at Beatrice. “We could order in, maybe watch a movie.”
“Hmmm,” Beatrice hums. “And then what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We can go to bed early.”
“And sleep?”
“Yeah, sleep, definitely what I had in mind.”
Beatrice laughs and so does Ava. She can feel the jerky movement of Beatrice’s chest under her, the faintest brush of Beatrice’s nipple against her arm, the way Beatrice’s fingers very slightly tighten around her shoulder. Ava’s hunger once again gnaws at her, body tensing with want and anticipation, but she doesn’t do anything. She could. They’re both lying naked in bed after they’ve spent a delightful afternoon together and kissed and took a shower together, and it’s all the green signs Ava would need. But instead, she savors this, the novelty of being intimate with someone without the underlying promise of sex, the beauty of knowing that, if they don’t do anything now, they’ll still have plenty more opportunities to do it later.
“Okay,” Beatrice finally says, voice quiet.
“Okay what?”
“I’ll stay over tonight.”
Ava props herself up on her elbow, a big grin on her face. “Really?”
Beatrice nods, looks away, clears her throat.
“Last time, I—you caught me off guard. But today…”
“Today you brought spare clothes,” Ava teases.
“And my toothbrush.”
“Your toothbrush!?” Ava rolls on her back laughing. “You really came prepared!”
“I just—” Beatrice’s blushing. How. Fucking. Adorable. “I just had a feeling today could end this way, that’s all.”
Fuck I love you. “Well, that makes me incredibly happy,” is the one truth Ava allows herself to say, and Beatrice visibly relaxes under her, her face softened by the prettiest smile.
Beatrice’s gaze curiously wanders from Ava to the ceiling and its apparent beams, to the light stone walls pierced by tiny windows Ava leaves cracked all day and all night long, to the one-person sofa tucked in the corner, to the tiny desk cluttered with magazines and pay slips and take-out flyers.
“What’s in the box?” she asks.
Oh, shit. The box! Okay Ava, play it cool, play it fucking cool.
“Oh, nothing important.”
She fidgets, tries to come up with something both credible and as uninteresting sounding as possible, and when Beatrice squints at her like a bird prey spotting a little mouse frolicking in the fields, she knows she’s doomed.
“If it’s so unimportant, why are you getting nervous all of a sudden?”
Ava tries humor. “My goodness, Beatrice, you really have zero respect for my privacy!”
“I was just mildly curious about it but seeing how you’ve suddenly started blushing and wriggling at the mere mention of it, I kind of don’t want to let this go now.”
Dang. Humor failed.
“Should I be concerned?” Beatrice asks, eyes back on the plain white box Ava now deeply regrets not having put away when she told herself she should.
“I—honestly don’t know…” Ava gulps as Beatrice slowly stands up and walks to the desk. “It was an impulse buy. I wasn’t thinking of you when I—I mean, I wasn’t just thinking of you when I bought it.”
Beatrice raises an eyebrow at her, slides a finger along the edge of the box, slowly opens it. She stares at its content for so long Ava wonders if time has stopped. Then, she speaks.
“Not just thinking of me?”
Ava’s heart is about to give out. “I mean—Clearly just you at this very moment, it’s just—We’re not—I mean—It was more for a general thing, not for someone in particular—But you’re my someone in particular right now—For the love of god Bea please say something and put me out of my misery.”
Beatrice chuckles, carefully takes the content of the box and gets it out in the open. The sight of Beatrice’s slender fingers reverently holding the black dildo as if it’s a sacred sword steals Ava’s breath away. Somehow, the toy looks bigger in her hands, and Ava has to force air through her nose so that she would not pass out.
“I’ve never used one,” Beatrice eventually says.
Ava’s mouth goes a little dry. “Would you want to?”
Beatrice stares at her for a long, long time. Her eyes drift back to the dildo, then to the box still open.
“I think you’d look beautiful wearing a strap-on,” she says.
Oh. Holy. Shit.
“Yeah,” Ava breathes out, vision already blurring at the idea of putting on the strap, spreading Beatrice’s legs open, fucking her hard right there on the bed and turning her silent orgasms into loud ones.
Beatrice takes the harness from the box and, dildo still in hand, she walks back towards Ava. She’s so fucking beautiful, standing there all naked in the middle of Ava’s apartment, skin bronzed by the setting sunshine pouring through the skylight. But she doesn’t let Ava admire her for long; she’s already sitting on the bed next to her, the dildo and the harness on her lap.
“Do you know what I really want?” Beatrice asks, voice raspy and a bit uncertain.
Anything you want I’ll give, Ava thinks as she shakes her head, fingers reaching to graze Beatrice’s thigh.
“I want you to use it on me.” Ava lets out a sharp breath. “And then I want to take you with it.”
This time, Ava whimpers, bites her bottom lip so hard it hurts and finally stops resisting the irresistible. She throws herself at Beatrice and crashes their mouths together, and they fall backward on the bed, Ava on top, Beatrice huffing and groaning against her lips. Suddenly everything speeds up; Beatrice tangles her hand into Ava’s wet hair and pulls, Ava moans and sinks her teeth into the tender flesh between Beatrice’s neck and shoulder, Beatrice slides a strong leg between her thighs and Ava immediately starts grinding on it. Everything is urgent, a wild and swift frenzy sweeping any coherent thought away, and Ava’s hunger is roaring freely, demanding more, more friction, more Beatrice. She rocks her hips faster, her clit rubbing against Beatrice’s hard muscle at the perfect angle, and she moans when Beatrice tightens her fist around her hair and tugs it abruptly, pulling Ava’s mouth away from her neck. Fuck, yes, yes, yes. Ava starts whimpering and her grinding turns jerky as sharp pleasure builds under her furious friction, as the lewd sounds of her wet slit sliding back and forth on Beatrice’s thigh fill the air. Beatrice pulls her hair once more, and Ava’s orgasm shatters inside her like a bomb. It’s fast and cutting, and it drags a high-pitched moan out of her.
“Fuck,” she pants, whole body collapsing on top of Beatrice’s, still shaken by a few spasms. “Fuck, fuck.”
It doesn’t take her long to recover; she smashes her mouth onto Beatrice’s with a desperate whine, and this kiss is incredibly messy and sexy.
“God I want to fuck you,” Ava rasps as she pulls away to look at Beatrice’s eyes, and the shine she sees in it actually stuns her for a second.
“Do it,” Beatrice says, voice a bit shaky, as she digs her nails into Ava’s back.
“With the—?”
Beatrice nods, quite frantically even, and Ava’s already stepping out of bed and putting the harness on under Beatrice’s razor-sharp gaze. Thank god she bought an easy to adjust model, and it takes her twenty seconds tops before she’s crawling back to bed, breath heavy, thighs doused from her orgasm and the monumental knowledge that she’s about to fuck Beatrice with a strap. She fights the urge to spread her legs open right away, kisses her stomach instead, licks the well-defined line between her abs with the tip of her tongue, blows a hot breath against one of her nipples, relishes the way Beatrice slightly arches on the bed.
“Ava…” It’s more a groan than a name, and when Ava scrapes Beatrice’s erected nipple with her teeth, the groan deepens. She flips her tongue against the little bud, starts sucking it, savors its texture and hardness.
“Ava.”
“Hm?” she hums, lifting her eyes to meet Beatrice’s flaming stare.
“I want you now.”
It’s a whisper, a faint confession that has Ava smiling around Beatrice’s breast. She sucks on it for a few more seconds, just for good measure, before releasing her nipple with a loud pop and a satisfied exhale. She straightens up, kneeling between Beatrice’s legs, eyes dragging down from Beatrice’s parted lips to her heaving chest, to the dark curls sticking together with arousal. God.
“You do want it,” Ava teases, and her smile immediately vanishes when Beatrice snatches the tip of the dildo with her hand and guides it towards her entrance. “Oh, shit.”
Beatrice wants it, she really wants it, and now Ava really, really wants it too. She slightly moves her hips forward as Beatrice’s still holding the toy at the right angle, and the more she pushes the more Beatrice’s mouth falls open, eyes locked with Ava’s.
“More?” Ava whispers.
Beatrice nods, and so Ava gives her more and pushes deeper, and deeper, until she can’t push anymore and Beatrice’s eyes snap shut as she lets out a long, gravelly moan. Fucking fuck.
“This is good,” Beatrice finally says with a strangled voice. “This is really good.”
Ava starts slowly rocking her hips back and forth, mesmerized by the sounds and face Beatrice makes. Truth be told, Beatrice is looking so astoundingly sexy right now Ava actually has to hold back and fight her most basic instinct to just fuck the shit out of her. She goes slow, eager to please and not to hurt, but when Beatrice grabs her wrist, digs her nails into her skin and lets out a pleading more, Ava chokes on a whimper.
“Are you sure?”
Beatrice opens her eyes and stares at her. “I can take it,” she breathes out.
Jesus fucking christ. Ava starts fucking Beatrice the way she imagined herself doing when she bought the strap, hard and fast and deep, and her vision blurs when Beatrice bites her own fist to smother her cries, her other hand scratching Ava’s lower back. God, oh god, oh god, Ava never thought she could feel that way, she never thought she could physically feel pleasure just by giving it, and yet there she is, so supremely turned on her clit is actually pulsing with heat.
When Beatrice chokes on her name, Ava’s rhythm turns frenzied and she utters curse over curse, losing her whole fucking mind at the way Beatrice keeps trying to say her name in between two noisy moans.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, you look so fucking good, fuck—”
Beatrice comes, and it’s loud, a hoarse shout barely muffled by her fist. Her body convulses on the mattress as Ava pushes deep and stays there, drawing out Beatrice’s orgasm as much as she can.
After a few seconds, Beatrice finally stops shaking and Ava carefully pulls out. Beatrice is panting heavily against her fist, until she drops her hand on her side and looks at Ava.
“Bloody hell,” she gasps, and it makes Ava laughs. “Come here.”
Ava obeys, crawls against Beatrice’s body and Beatrice immediately kisses her. It’s passionate enough Ava whimpers against her lips.
“That was—” Beatrice croaks as she breaks the kiss, “—incredible.”
Ava grins and wiggles her eyebrows. “I can do this all day!”
“And that’s yet another irrefutable proof of how much your physical condition has improved those past few months, but, for now—” Beatrice smiles as she hooks her fingers around the hem of the harness, “—your turn.”
With an excited yelp and a lot of giggles, Ava shakes the harness off her legs and watches as Beatrice puts it on. As soon as Beatrice’s ready, Ava straddles her, the toy erected between her legs and pressing against her lower stomach. Her gaze drops down and she stares at its full length shimmering with Beatrice’s cum. Shit. She looks back at Beatrice, who propped herself up on her elbows. Would she like it? If Ava… Somehow, she has a feeling Beatrice would. Slowly, so very slowly, she crawls down Beatrice’s legs, her eyes anchored on hers, before lowering herself and wrapping her lips around the tip of the dildo. She hears Beatrice’s sharp intake of breath, wants to get more out of her, more, more, always more, and so she unhurriedly starts sucking down on the toy, Beatrice’s taste filling her whole mouth, and then, then, Beatrice lets out an almost inaudible Fuck that shakes Ava to the core. Strong fingers slide into her hair, grasp it, guide her head as she pushes it down the shaft, and up, and down, and up, and down. Ava squirms on the bed, clit throbbing at the mere idea that she’s sucking off Beatrice’s own cum, because it’s so dirty, and Beatrice loves it, and Ava loves it, and jesus their sexual chemistry really is off the fucking chart.
Ava pumps her head down the dildo one last time before sitting back up and catching Beatrice’s gaze. Oh. Beatrice is looking at her with pure, absolute want, and Ava’s whole body liquifies under the intensity of her stare. She bites her lip, moves back to straddling Beatrice over her hips, grabs the toy by its base and settles herself over it. Beatrice sits up, her hands sliding on Ava’s thighs and ass, and Ava gasps as she slowly lowers herself and lets the dildo enter her. Oh, fuck it feels good. She takes it all in, breath ragged and arms wrapping around Beatrice’s neck, before she moves back up, and down again. Fuck, fuck it’s incredible. She starts speeding up, but immediately Beatrice’s hands settle on her hips and restrain her movement.
“Slow,” Beatrice whispers, forehead dropping against Ava’s. “I want it slow.”
“Shit. Shit, okay.”
Ava slows down, eyes on Beatrice’s.
“Just like that,” Beatrice hums, her hands guiding Ava’s hips in a lazy motion. “You’re doing amazing.”
Holy fucking shit. Ava lets out a whimper, leans closer to Beatrice, their lips grazing each other but not fully touching.
“I’ve wanted to touch you all day long,” Beatrice says, voice quiet, and Ava shivers.
“Yeah?” She slides down the shaft, takes in a deep, shaky breath as she feels herself stretching in the most delicious way.
“Yes. You look incredible in that red one-piece swimsuit.” Beatrice drags her nails along Ava’s thighs. “You look incredible in everything.”
“Fuck,” Ava breathes out as she slides up, the graduate loss barely bearable until she allows herself to move back down.
“Does it feel good?”
Ava nods.
“Do you want more?”
Ava nods vigorously.
“Grind on me,” Beatrice whispers, her hot breath licking Ava’s lips, and Ava obeys with a whimper.
She takes the full length of the shaft in and starts rocking her hips over Beatrice’s lap, Beatrice’s hands dictating the speed, making her hips roll progressively faster until Ava’s wildly riding her, choked moans and half-swears tumbling off her open mouth, arms crossed behind Beatrice’s neck.
“You’re so good,” Beatrice murmurs between two pants, “you’re doing so good, you’re doing so so good.”
“Fuck, Bea.”
Ava had an inkling that she had a praise kink—it was hard to ignore the slow churning in her lower stomach whenever Beatrice complimented her at the gym—, but Beatrice’s pleased approbation unravels her in ways she’s never thought it could. Truth be told, when it comes to Beatrice, Ava might have an everything kink. One day, she thinks as she closes her eyes and lets out a raspy moan, she’ll make sure Beatrice knows how much of a little whore she is for her.
“Can you go up and down?” Beatrice asks, voice ever quiet.
“Yes. Yes.”
And so Ava once again follows Beatrice’s lead. She starts bouncing up and down the dildo, Beatrice’s hands grasping her ass to lift her and drop her back down on her lap in a steady rhythm. The sound of Ava’s flesh hitting against Beatrice’s each time she shoves herself back down fills the air, along with her unrestrained moans and Beatrice’s low growls, and all of it feels so good, the noises, Beatrice’s wrecked face, the toy filling her up and hitting hard inside her, it feels so so fucking good, and tension grows in her clit and deep within to the point it’s now all she can think of.
“Faster,” Beatrice commands, and Ava whines, clutches her hands around Beatrice’s shoulders to keep steady as she bounces faster on the dildo.
“Do you like it?”
Ava nods eagerly, unable to form a coherent word. Beatrice lets go of her ass, grasps a fistful of Ava’s hair and pulls, and the whole neighborhood can probably hear the obscene moan Ava utters.
“Yes,” Ava slurs. “Yes, I like it, I love it, god, Bea, please—”
She doesn’t even know what she’s begging for, now frantically jumping up and down the dildo as heat keeps building between her legs, almost solidifying at the tip of her clit.
Beatrice leans forward and, mouth to Ava’s ear, she whispers, “You’re such a slut, Ava Silva.”
Ava comes with the longest, loudest, most bestial moan she’s ever let out.
*
They order food, watch a movie, talk and laugh and make out. They go to bed at a reasonable hour—Beatrice has to work in the morning—and Beatrice barely has time to slide under the sheets that Ava clings to her like a koala to a tree.
“I never thought you’d be the big spoon,” Beatrice says with a chuckle.
Ava tightens her grip around Beatrice’s waist and buries her face between her shoulder blades. “We can switch next time.”
Beatrice laughs even more, and it’s like she’s tacitly agreeing that there will indeed be a next time. Comforting silence feels the dark room. Beatrice’s breath slowly grows deep and steady, and Ava listens to it for a long while before falling asleep.
Later, way later, when she thinks back to this day, she’ll realize it’s the first time she’s ever slept next to someone else, and Beatrice’s made it the easiest thing in the world.
*
The next Friday, Beatrice takes her to the beach again. Ava now swims with ease, be it the breaststroke or the crawl, and Beatrice even lets her wander around without close supervision. When they come back from the beach and Beatrice drops Ava off in front of her building, she tells her with a proud smile, “I think we’re done with the swimming lessons.”
Ava beams. “Do I get a reward?”
“Being able to swim isn’t enough for you?”
“You know I’m greedy.”
“Fine,” Beatrice laughs. “Let’s go to the beach one last time. This Sunday, 4 pm. As a reward.”
“Okay!” Ava grins.
“It’s a date,” Beatrice says with a quiet voice, and she turns away and walks back to her car before Ava has the chance to answer.
A date. A date. That night, Ava barely sleeps.
*
Beatrice picks her up at 4 pm as planned, and Ava can’t help but throw an eager glance at the back of the Jeep. When she doesn’t see any surfboards in there, she feels both a bit disappointed—she was almost hoping this was a very elaborate plan for Beatrice to teach her how to surf—and incredibly excited—because it means it is, in fact, a date. The beach is as crowded as last Sunday, and Ava can’t wait to dive in the water and swim far enough away she can kiss Beatrice without any second thought.
“Let’s go a bit further down,” Beatrice says, one hand clinging to the backpack hanging on her shoulder. “I think there will be fewer people over there.”
And so they keep walking, making sure not to step on sand castles and half-naked bodies on the way. When they approach a very lively group of girls hanging around on a high dune, surfboards planted in the sand, Ava squints.
“Is that—”
“Oh my god, Ava, Bea, hi!!”
Camila runs towards them with the biggest smile, and soon Lilith, Yasmine and Mary all come to greet them.
“Guys!” Ava laughs. “What are you doing here! Wait—”
She stares at the surfboards, then turns towards Beatrice, and her eyes drop down on the orange she’s holding towards her.
“From all of us,” Beatrice tells her with the gentlest voice, and tears spring to Ava’s eyes. “We got you surfing lessons.”
“Really?” she whispers, taking the orange and holding it against her chest.
“Yeah, we all chipped in!” Camilla says, all giddy and playful.
“None of us knows how to surf,” Yasmine adds with a smile, “so we’re all taking lessons too!”
“Guys… That’s—Thank you.”
When Ava can’t hold back the one tear rolling down her cheek, Mary lightly punches her shoulder.
“Can’t wait to see you in those duck floaties, baby girl!”
They all laugh, and Ava turns to Beatrice and yelps, “You told them?”
“Even better,” Lilith says as she scrolls on her phone and shows Ava a picture of her, half turned towards the camera, duck floaties at her arms and the maddest look on her face.
“Bea! The betrayal!”
They all laugh again, and it’s lively and cheery and fun and is this what it feels like to be surrounded by friends? By people who’d tease and mock and help and support her? Is it what it feels like, to not be lonely anymore? She glances at Beatrice, then at her feet. She’s never felt as lucky as she does now.
“I see everyone’s here,” an unknown voice says in her back.
Ava turns around to face the stranger, a tall, gorgeous woman holding a surfboard under each arm.
“Chanel, hello,” Beatrice greets her with a warm smile. “Ava, this is Chanel, she’ll be our surf instructor today.”
“Congrats on learning how to swim,” Chanel says. “It’s not an easy thing to do when you’re already adult.”
“Oh, thanks! I had an amazing teacher.” Ava bumps her hip against Beatrice to punctuate her words, unable to hide her bright smile.
“Alright, girls.” Chanel plants the boards in the sand and looks at the little group now gathered around her. “Let’s get to it.”
They all cheer, Ava the loudest of them.
*
By the end of the afternoon, Ava’s able to catch some of the smaller waves and to ride them until they die on the shore. It’s physically demanding but so damn fun, and she gets to brag that she caught her first wave before Mary and Lilith did.
The lesson stops at 8 pm and they all gather around, talk and laugh and play ball as the sun slowly starts to set. At everybody’s demand, Chanel stays with them, and she fits in with ease. Everyone brought snacks of their own, apples and cookies and chips and tiny homemade sandwiches in Yasmine’s case, one for everyone Chanel included, and it’s so thoughtful Ava hugs her tight until they both dissolve into giggles.
Ava’s sitting next to Beatrice when the sky turns pink. She’s eating her orange, handing one slice out of two to Beatrice, and even if it’s such a very mundane thing to do it still feels like something a bit decadent, something almost too intimate to show the rest of the group. When they finish the orange, they silently look at the sunset, side by side, as everyone else keeps talking about anything and everything.
“Thank you,” Ava eventually murmurs, eyes still set on the sea.
For this, for everything, for existing. A timid hand settles on hers, and Ava shivers, takes it, glances at Beatrice, heart suddenly hammering in her chest. She can’t speak anymore, because Beatrice is so beautiful, because Beatrice is holding her hand in public, in front of strangers, in front of their friends.
“Ah!” Camila’s loud shout startles them both. She jumped on her feet and is now pointing at their joined hands, and everyone’s looking at them. “I knew it! I knew it!”
“We all knew it,” Mary groans as she rolls her eyes. “The real question is, when did it start?”
If it was physically possible for a human being to spontaneously combust, Beatrice probably would right now. She’s redder than the flaming sky and staring at the sand at her feet as if she was trying to dig a hole to China with her eyes. Ava rubs a soothing thumb over her knuckles before beaming at Mary.
“About one month and a half ago!”
“Called it,” Lilith groans.
“How?” Beatrice finally speaks. “We were discreet.”
Mary snorts. “Please.”
“I hate to tell you,” Lilith says, “but you two walking into the showers and Ava coming out of there clothes drenched from head to toe does not qualify as being discreet.”
“That, or the way you’re eye fucking each other every time you practice martial arts,” Camilla adds with a grin.
“Or you refusing to take another client so you could still keep doing two-hour sessions with Ava every Friday,” Yasmine also says, and at this Ava’s heart skips a beat.
“Alright, alright,” Beatrice mutters. “Point taken.”
They all laugh, Beatrice soon joining them, and Ava squeezes her hand. “They’re just jealous, Bea. Come on, let’s go for a walk!”
“Bye, lovebirds!” Camilla shouts as they get up and walk away, and even Beatrice can’t hold back a chuckle.
They walk silently along the beach, hand in hand. The crowd dissipated a while ago and only a few people are still there, enjoying the blazing sunset alone, with friends or with their special someone.
“What changed your mind?” Ava asks softly.
“You.”
Ava slowly stops walking and Beatrice turns to face her. The gentle wind is playing with her damp hair, her cheekbones peppered with sun-kissed freckles, her skin glowing under the fiery light of the sunset. She’s so beautiful, and she’s still holding her hand, and the whole world knows: Ava is hers and hers completely.
“You make me so happy, Ava. So, so happy. And it took me a long while to realize it but, the less I was fighting this, us, the happier I was. You make life fun. You bring the extraordinary to the ordinary. You’re full of energy and joy and love and I know now that you’d never, ever be a threat to my career. You’d never badmouth me, you’d never post bad reviews online or go out of your way to drag my name through the mud, even if this relationship ends badly. You’re too kind. And you make me bold, you make me spontaneous, you make me feel like life is meant to be lived rather than carefully planned.”
Beatrice takes a step closer, tucks a strand of hair behind Ava’s ear.
“So if one of my clients has something to say about me dating the girl I’m in love with, well. They can find themselves a new personal trainer.”
Ava bites her bottom lip, lifts a hand to caress Beatrice’s cheek, watches as Beatrice leans into the touch.
“The girl you’re in love with, uh?” Ava whispers.
Beatrice blushes, but she doesn’t look away.
“Desperately,” she breathes out.
Ava presses her forehead against Beatrice’s, her thumb softly stroking her cheekbone.
“What an incredible coincidence,” she murmurs. “I’m desperately in love with you too.”
They smile, and they kiss. It feels like the first time and, in a way, it is.
*
Many, many years later, when they’ve moved in together to Madrid so that Beatrice can train more exclusive clients, when Ava’s traded her bartender apron for whatever she fancies during the day, a camera, running shoes, a motorcycle helmet, her computer on the days she feels like doing nothing and decides to enjoy her amazing life from the comfort of their couch, Ava wakes up to an empty bed. There’s a little note on Beatrice’s pillow, her neat and delicate handwriting immediately catching Ava’s eyes.
Good morning, my love. How cool would it be to climb a tree?
Ava laughs, still hazy with sleep, but her smile fades away as she rereads the note. Somehow, those words ring a bell. Somehow, when she reads them, she thinks of a surfboard planted in the sand, of Mary showing off her motocross, of Beatrice’s gracile silhouette as she runs on a beautiful deserted beach.
She gets up, her heart beating slightly faster than it should. As she crosses their house—past the polaroid corridor where they put up hundreds of pictures of them and friends with colored tape, past the living room that Beatrice’s slowly but surely turning into a greenhouse, past the kitchen where Ava does fulfill at least one day out of three her promise to cook a healthy lunch when Beatrice’s at work—, she wonders. What is Beatrice up to?
The house is empty, but even though it’s Sunday morning, she’s not too concerned; sometimes Beatrice leaves the house early for her morning run and comes back with iced coffee for Ava and chai tea for herself. Ava opens the kitchen door, walks outside. Her eyes immediately set on the majestic tree casting its shadows all over the garden. This, right here, is the reason why they bought that house. A holm oak twenty meters tall that has been standing there for centuries, outliving generations, now home to at least four different species of birds and a family of squirrels Ava loves to look at whenever she spots them playing around in the branches.
Beatrice and Ava both fell in love with it the second they walked into the garden. The house itself had character, with its fireplace, its beautiful wooden floors, the wide windows and patio doors leading to the other side of the garden, but that tree was the true tiebreaker, if there ever was a tie to break.
How cool would it be to climb a tree?
Ava smiles. So fucking cool, actually. She walks to the oak. Beatrice is still nowhere to be found, but Ava doesn’t necessarily mind. It’s a bit stupid, maybe, but she feels like this? This little and unexpected challenge Beatrice’s set for her? That’s something she should do alone. As she walks under the thick and tortuous branches, Ava remembers. Running on the beach, riding a motorcycle, surfing… and climbing a tree. She realizes now that she never completed the list. Maybe Beatrice suddenly thought of it this morning. Maybe she wants Ava to accomplish the last of her dreams, or at least the last of the dreams she shared that day they first met—Ava still has many, many more dreams, and she feels like ever since she’s started dating Beatrice, she’s been fully living most of them.
She halts in front of the tree trunk, massive and sturdy, and she looks up. She’s never thought of climbing the oak before, but she can’t stop thinking about it now. She’s barefoot and still in her PJs—a little tank top and some red and white flannel shorts—, but she doesn’t care. She smiles, rolls her shoulders and, without a split second of hesitation, she starts the climb.
It’s easy, so easy, her body moving where she asks it to, her muscles responding to every little solicitation, her toes clinging to the rough bark. It’s been easy for years now, and she thinks about little kid Ava stuck crying in bed without even being able to wipe her tears, about resigned teenager Ava listing all the things, tiny and big, that she’s missing on, and she wants to tell them, keep on hoping, keep on fighting, life is worth it.
The branches are solid and within easy reach, and so she climbs, and she climbs, and she climbs, until she arrives to the heart of the tree, where all the biggest limbs start spreading. There, she finds an envelope. There’s an orange set atop of the paper and Ava’s heart, already racing from the climb, now throbs so strongly she can hear the blood rushing in her ears.
She straddles one of the thick branches, carefully moves the orange—her reward, she thinks with immeasurable fondness—, and takes the envelope. There’s nothing written on its front, nothing written on its back. Ava takes a deep breath, a little nervous, a little dizzy.
She opens the envelope with cautious fingers. Inside, she discovers a tiny note, very much like the one she found on Beatrice’s pillow. She reads it. Has to look away. Has to look down. Beatrice is standing there, at the foot of the tree, staring at her with the softest eyes and the softest smile.
Ava can’t speak, tears now rolling down her cheeks, so she simply nods. Beatrice’s smile widens; it’s the most beautiful thing Ava’s ever seen in her life. She presses the note against her chest, and it’s like she’s engraving the words on her heart.
Will you marry me?