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2024-11-12
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2024-11-12
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Touch (REUPLOAD: SEE NOTES)

Chapter Text

There’s a lot Megan doesn’t understand. 

 

How she and Daniela ended up having extremely hot sex multiple times last night happens to be the most pressing conundrum at present.

 

She supposes it was a culmination of things. The trust between them. The boredom. Cabin fever. The tension they’ve been trying to alleviate together-but-separately, with the boundaries growing less and less defined as the days wore on. Their apparent mutual sexual attraction to one another.

 

But whenever the minutiae of her own feelings gets too messy and complicated to confront head-on, Megan likes to focus on objective, clear-cut details. Numbers, stats, data: she’s always been a math person (at least, she’s definitely never been an english person thanks to her dyslexia). She tries a quick tally in her head. It’s been two months since their first sordid little experiment. Eight weeks. Fifty-six days. And, besides that first week they spent not talking about what happened the very first time, they have shared what they’ve taken to calling “moments” every single day.

 

Forty-nine days of watching Daniela come. Forty-nine days of Megan getting off right next to her. Forty-nine days and at least forty-nine orgasms each that they’ve allowed the other to witness.

 

At least forty-nine orgasms that she gave herself until yesterday when her vibrator died and Daniela’s fingers replaced it. She adds four more orgasms to her tally. Four that Daniela so willingly gave her. Two of which were accompanied by Daniela coming, too; the second time being around Megan’s fingers. 

 

She notices her hand trembling as she puts the bottle of conditioner back in its spot on the rack that hangs over the metal shower curtain rod encircling their middle-of-the-room bathtub (“their” meaning Dani’s, but after sharing a room for so long Megan feels some level of co-ownership now). A slow, deep breath attempts to calm her pulse which is starting to pick up considerably at the memories of last night. She tries to focus on finishing her shower while she listens to Daniela singing along to one of Megan’s playlists a few feet away.

 

Daniela’s shadow moves along the white shower curtain and Megan can tell she’s dancing around the room. It makes Megan smile despite herself and when Daniela’s fingers poke at the shower curtain, Megan pokes back like a game of Whack-a-Mole until the fingers retreat back with a yelp that devolves into a giggle. She can hear the smile in Daniela’s voice as she raps along to a Playboi Carti song that Megan feigned ignorance about, blaming a click-and-drag error when it came up on shuffle. It wasn’t an error, though.

 

“Want some company?”

 

The abrupt closeness of Daniela’s voice makes her jump and she twists her neck to see Daniela’s face smiling at her through the gap in the shower curtain. Her first instinct is to feel sheepish because she’s completely naked, but then again, they’ve seen each other naked innumerable times and, oh, right, they fucked each other senseless yesterday.

 

“You could wait your turn, you know,” she says with a roll of her eyes and a smile. She knows full-well that Daniela won’t take her response to mean, “no,” and she’s okay with that. Her barely slowed pulse picks up again in the few seconds Daniela disappears because she knows Daniela’s already stripping.

 

“Solid playlist, Megan. Never took you for a Carti fan,” Daniela says conversationally as she steps into the shower behind Megan. She’s immediately close due to the cramped nature of the space. Not that Megan minds, of course.

 

“Thanks,” she says, keeping her eyes forward and pretending to not want to turn around and let her eyes rove over Daniela’s nude body.

 

“This song’s one of my faves, you know.”

 

“Oh?” Megan feigns; she already knew that. It’s why it’s on the playlist.

 

She hears Daniela hum in response. If she had Spidey senses, they’d for sure be tingling because she can practically feel the rapidly diminishing space between her and Daniela, still situated behind her. “Save some hot water for me,” Daniela says, but it sounds less like proper words and more like pure honey the way they’re spoken into her right ear.

 

Daniela’s hands find her waist. Megan’s body, already wound up from her trip down sexual memory lane, shivers from the contact. She feels herself being nudged forward and out of the spray of the showerhead that hangs above the center of the tub and she knows Daniela’s getting herself wet under the spray.

 

Like how Megan is somehow already wet. The other kind of wet.

 

It’s become Pavlovian. A touch or a wink or a flirtatious comment from Daniela and she ruins her underwear, but she’s not wearing any right now.

 

She feels Daniela against her back after a minute or two, both of them warm and wet and she can feel how Daniela’s nipples are hard and pressing into her. It makes her chin drop to her chest, partly because she feels a bit dizzy and partly because she wants to see Daniela’s hands on her. 

 

There’s only one on her waist now, though. She wonders where the other is until she feels it along her neck, scratching just the slightest bit as Daniela pulls her wet hair over and behind her shoulder, away from her neck.

 

“I can’t stop thinking about yesterday.”

 

The words melt over Megan’s ear and her head automatically tilts to the left, away from the voice. But it isn’t to escape. It’s because Daniela’s lips are so close to the right side of her neck and if she’s going to do something, anything at all, Megan wants to make sure she has plenty of skin to work with.

 

The hand not at her waist glides down her back until it’s following the curve of Megan’s ass, something that makes her twitch with need and makes Daniela chuckle in her ear as she squeezes it gently.

 

“What about it?” she manages to ask and she’s moderately embarrassed by how airy her voice has already become. But Daniela’s never touched her there so it’s something new for her body to feel and respond to and, unsurprisingly, its response is to become more aroused.

 

“You were so…”—Daniela pauses and Megan holds her breath—“...eager,” she finishes with a sigh that Megan can feel. “To show me.”

 

Megan doesn’t need to ask for clarification; she’s been reliving the experience non-stop in her mind, what it was like to fuck herself with her vibrator just for Daniela, at her direction (“on demand,” as she put it last night). But she kind of really, really likes the way Daniela’s hands are starting to roam her body, her hips and stomach and ribs until her back is arching and her head is tipping back from Daniela’s hands sliding up to cover her breasts. They aren’t hesitant about it and Megan can’t stop the quiet, breathy “shit,” that escapes her lips after her gasp of surprise. 

 

“Show you what?” she manages to prompt when Daniela doesn’t seem to be continuing her recounting of events.

 

“Whatever I wanted.” Her hands squeeze and Megan’s flail for something to hold on to but the shower is a complete safety hazard and doesn’t have one single, reinforced surface in it other than the tub itself and she suddenly questions if doing whatever they’re about to do is a wise choice.

 

With all rehearsals obviously on hold for the foreseeable future, Megan genuinely could not give two shits about risking the possibility of slipping and falling and spraining her wrist if it means getting to partake in what’s about to happen, but… if she has a sprained wrist it’s going to make it exponentially more difficult to fuck Daniela the way she had yesterday.

 

Then again, there are a lot of other ways to fuck someone (Daniela) that don’t require the use of her hand. The image of Daniela in bed, on her back, one hand in her own hair and the other in Megan’s as Megan licks at her cunt fills her mind, and her breath stutters. Her hands find something to brace herself against: Daniela’s hips behind her. She needs something to help keep her upright because it’s way too soon to be collapsing into the pile of needy want that she already is.

 

“Happy to help,” she breathes, able to form words even as Daniela’s fingers start teasing her already stiff nipples. She kind of hates (read: fucking loves ) that Daniela already figured out how sensitive they can be.

 

“So generous,” Daniela fires back, almost absently as Megan feels warm lips press against her cool shoulder.

 

It makes her eyelashes flutter open and she can’t help but look down again, this time to watch the way Daniela’s teasing her breasts.  Her hands are in sync in the way they squeeze and circle and flick and pinch and Megan wonders if Daniela is remembering how quickly her attention to Megan’s nipples made Megan want Round Two last night.

 

She hasn’t even had Round One yet today but she knows she’s already as wet as if she was on Round Three. She can feel it when she shifts her feet. “Daniela.”

 

“Hmm?” Daniela’s hands grab at her breasts rather possessively.

 

“I need…” She could say she needs a moment, their passphrase to masturbate. But that isn’t what she wants. What she wants… is Daniela. 

 

“Tell me.” The words are followed by teeth against her shoulder, gentle but present.

 

Megan’s not completely sure she’s thinking. At least, not consciously. But she’s hyper-aware of what she’s doing as she reaches up to snag Daniela’s right hand to start dragging it down her body. “I need you.”

 

She can hear Daniela’s sigh as much as she feels it, hot breath against her ear before lips are pressing at her neck. It’s clear that Daniela understands, her hand no longer needing Megan to direct it, but Megan holds onto it anyway. She wants the connection she gets from having her hand on the back of Daniela’s as it slides past her navel and between her legs without hesitation.

 

She knows the sound she makes is pretty pathetic, a whine that’s as much from relief as it is the need for more.

 

Daniela doesn’t seem to mind if the way she moans in response is anything to go by, as her fingers move confidently against Megan. She knows what Daniela is doing: she’s exploring, surveying how wet Megan is, and not from the shower. “You feel so good,” Daniela mumbles against her neck.

 

Megan just rolls her head further to the left, trying to offer more of herself up to Daniela’s whim. She thinks it’s absurd that Daniela thinks it’s Megan who feels good because Daniela feels absolutely fucking amazing and Megan’s hips tilt forward as their hands, together, slide further between her legs.

 

Daniela really needs no direction whatsoever but Megan’s fucked herself for Daniela so many times, there’s something especially erotic about feeling Daniela fuck her. The ways her fingers reach to tease into her, just an inch or two, before they’re pulling back to start rubbing gentle circles against her clit. Daniela’s fingers beneath Megan’s.

 

“Fuck,” Megan moans when Daniela’s fingers pinch at her nipple the same time they lightly tug at her clit and her free hand, the one not following Daniela’s every move, flies up to cover the back of Daniela’s other hand. The one at her breast.

 

“God, you’re so hot,” Daniela whispers in her ear as she stops being quite so teasing with her touches. She’s slow but steady, fingers swiping back and forth over Megan’s clit in a way that has Megan’s hips chasing her for more. “Do I really make you this wet?”

 

Megan doesn’t know if Daniela expects an answer or even needs one. It’s a rhetorical question but Daniela deserves to know how much she arouses Megan. If their roles were reversed, she’d want to hear it from Daniela, so she swallows and hopes her voice works for something other than the whimpers and moans it’s been producing.

 

“Yeah,” she sighs, voice cracking to make her swallow again. “You turn me on so much. Fuck.”

 

She hears a broken moan from Daniela in her ear and she braces herself for what she hopes her words incite: something less measured and torturous. More unabashed, rough, the slightest bit selfish: the Dani she knows. She wants Daniela to take her. She’s already at her mercy but she presses Daniela’s fingers more firmly against herself anyway, trying to drive home her point.

 

Instead, Daniela pushes back until her hand is retreating from its place.

 

The loss makes Megan stutter-step forward and thankfully Daniela steadies her. “Come on ,” she starts to whine, whipping her head around to ask why she stopped but Daniela’s already taking a step backward, then another as she catches Megan’s hand to pull her along, too.

 

“Bed,” Daniela says as she steps out of the tub. “There’s no way I’m not fucking you properly now.” She smirks as she says it.

 

Megan’s knees are unsteady as she follows, Daniela helping her over the edge of the tub and right into a kiss that happens so seamlessly Megan doesn’t even remember it beginning. Daniela, in better control of her faculties, walks backward and Megan takes quick glances as her tongue plays with Daniela’s to see that their bed is only another step or two away. She spares a thought for the fact that they’re both sopping wet from the shower and they’re about to fall onto their bed, but she doesn’t do anything to stop it. Not when Daniela’s hand is suddenly between her legs again making it almost impossible for Megan to walk.

 

Daniela pulls Megan down with her and though Megan had expected to be turned and pushed onto her back, she’s pleasantly surprised when she ends up straddling a seated Daniela.

 

Through the fog of her mind, she distinctly remembers Daniela telling her that her favorite position was riding (“dick, fingers, strap, whatever”). Clearly, she’s not opposed to the reverse. She can hear Daniela’s words in her memory and spares a thought to how, when she’d heard them that late night in bed, she had been so unexpectedly and incredibly turned on by the concept of anyone (specifically herself) riding Daniela’s fingers (or strap, or whatever) that she’d started debating whether or not she could inconspicuously get herself off in bed once Daniela fell asleep.

 

Of course, she hadn’t expected things to take the turn they did that night. Nor the developments in the days thereafter driven by boredom, proximity, libido, and a strong sexual attraction that culminated in Daniela coming against her thigh while Megan came on Daniela’s fingers.

 

Just like she knows she’s going to once again in the very near future.

 

Her hips move of their own accord, grinding herself down against Daniela’s hand. She’s desperate for more and tries to make it known, not just with trying to take more but giving more. She kisses Daniela hard, hands gripping her shoulders and nails clawing at her back in ways that she hopes don’t hurt as much as she hopes to leave marks. She wants to see evidence on Daniela. Something to complement the hickeys Daniela sucked into her neck and breasts last night.

 

Daniela, however, seems intent on taking her time and Megan doesn’t have time for time.

 

“Daniela,” she growls in desperate irritation before kissing Daniela particularly hard.

 

“Hmm?” Daniela sounds annoyingly innocent as she pulls her hand back until her fingertips are barely touching Megan at all.

 

It makes Megan sit back, her ass against Daniela’s thighs, and muster the strength to look Daniela squarely in the eye. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

 

Daniela grins her stupid, infectious grin and it makes Megan tip her head back and groan.

 

“Dani, seriously, you tell me you can’t stop thinking about yesterday and now all you do is tease—” her rant is cut off by Daniela’s fingers sinking into her cunt. All the way. Curling inside to reach even further until her palm is pressed against Megan’s body. “Jesus Christ,” is how her sentence abruptly finishes and she lets Daniela bring her face forward and down again to pick up their kiss where they’d left off.

 

Megan is quick to take what she wants. Daniela’s filling her so perfectly and her palm is so deliciously pressed against Megan’s clit that she doesn’t hesitate to roll her hips forward to start riding her hand. She ignores the satisfied chuckle she hears. She doesn’t need to think about Daniela being proud that she’s so easily able to drive Megan crazy with desire. Instead, she thinks about how she knows Daniela is loving this as much as she is and how fucking good it feels to have Daniela’s hand, the one Megan isn’t fucking, grab her ass and encourage her to move more quickly.

 

Not that Megan needs encouragement.

 

She has to break away from their endless kiss. She needs to be able to breathe and Daniela’s mouth is too demanding. She knows she could just grab Daniela’s shoulders and lean back to work her hips but she opts for leaning forward, arms around Daniela’s neck, cheek-to-cheek. She wants to be close, and the way Daniela’s fingernails dig into the soft flesh of her ass tells her Daniela likes it.

 

“You’re so hot,” Daniela praises and Megan moans in her ear at the encouragement. “God, Megan, can you go faster?”

 

She doesn’t really know why Daniela wants her to go faster; it’s not like Megan’s fucking anyone but herself, but maybe Daniela is just enjoying being ridden that much.

 

“Uh-huh,” she manages to respond. It’s easy in their position to bear down and grind herself against Daniela until the only concept that exists in her brain is ‘reckless abandon.’ “Oh, fuck,” she groans when Daniela’s fingers curl just-so and suddenly she’s lightheaded. She holds on tightly, one hand tangling in Daniela’s messy, still-wet hair. ‘Desperate’ is no longer an accurate descriptor for her need. It’s maddening. It’s all-consuming.

 

She’s never been one to be particularly vocal in bed. She’s always caught up in feelings of self-consciousness and concern that she’ll be judged for enjoying something too much.

 

That particular hang-up seems to have been erased, however, and she’s vaguely aware that she might be damaging Daniela’s hearing the way she’s moaning in her ear but it only seems to spur Daniela to praise her which makes Megan further lose her sense of self.

 

She doesn’t know how she hasn’t come yet. She’s been on the verge since Daniela’s fingers slipped into her. But it feels so good, feels so right like they’re meant to fit together this way that she doesn’t want it to end.

 

She’s starting to lose her grip on the thread of control she’s clinging to, though, because Daniela’s moving beneath her like she’s trying to push her hips up into Megan. Like she’s trying to fuck her with something other than what Megan thinks must now be the three fingers inside of her, and she’s moaning like she’s the one on the verge of orgasm.

 

Megan’s not sure what to do with that information, that Daniela might come, too, because she’s enjoying what’s happening just that much. Her body knows what to do with it though, which is to push her past the point of being able to stop it.

 

It must be obvious because Daniela’s repeating, “Come for me,” in her ear over and over until all Megan can do is cling to her as it overtakes her. Her ecstasy flows through her veins quickly with as hard as her heart is pounding, flooding her senses with pleasure that has her seeing stars behind her closed eyelids.

 

She slumps in Daniela’s lap when it’s over, arms still around her neck as her head rests on her own bicep. She’s vaguely aware of how hard Daniela’s breathing and that she’s not collapsing from tired release the way Megan is.

 

“You didn’t come.” Her words are loose in the afterglow, filter absent for now.

 

Daniela’s quiet laugh is strained. “Welp. Almost did.”

 

Megan doesn’t like that. She doesn’t like that Daniela didn’t get off when it was obvious she was so close—their “moments” aren’t just solo acts anymore (not that they ever entirely were, if she’s being honest). 

 

It empowers her to lift her head and sit up to look at her. Just how close Daniela was to release is evident on her face. Megan’s watched her orgasm enough times now to know all her tells. “Why not?”

 

Daniela kind of shakes her head like she can’t quite answer the question and Megan thinks she knows. At least, she hopes what crosses her mind is correct: that maybe, just maybe, Daniela wants Megan to be the one to do it for her.

 

After all, that was exactly what Megan had wanted as well. “Tell me what you want.” It’s why she lost her damn mind with need when Daniela started touching her. “Tell me what you need from me and I’ll do it.” She kisses her as if to seal her promise and feels herself shiver when Daniela groans with need, her returning kiss borderline obscene and dripping with desire.

 

Megan thinks she shouldn’t be surprised that they seem to be mutually insatiable, at least when it comes to each other, after how mind-blowing their first time was last night. After how shameless they had been with their mutual masturbation. Fucking themselves at the breakfast table in broad daylight probably should have been a clue. Or maybe even before that when Megan tugged on Daniela’s hair, just a bit, as Daniela played with herself because Megan knew Daniela would like it.

 

“Just touch me,” Daniela says before biting at Megan’s bottom lip, oh so briefly, then letting go. Like she’s so pent up she can’t figure out how to properly communicate her want. “Please.”

 

It’s an easy request. One that only needs Megan to shift back a couple of inches so there’s room to fit her hand between them. She doesn’t stop kissing Daniela as she does it, pausing only for the briefest of moments to let her fingers pluck at hard nipples before she’s sliding her hand between Daniela’s legs.

 

“Fuck,” she says against Daniela’s lips. Daniela’s so wet that Megan can feel it against the bedding beneath her when she reaches far enough to push her fingers into her.

 

Daniela’s reaction is quick, her jaw dropping for a moment to moan Megan’s name before her mouth is on Megan’s again.

 

Megan savors the way Daniela tightens appreciatively around her fingers before she withdraws them. The angle isn’t great for that but what she can do is play with Daniela’s swollen clit.

 

Daniela shows her gratitude for that with her voice between kisses, moans, and Megan’s name and begging for harder and faster. Harder and faster until Megan’s bracing herself and pressing her knees into the bed for leverage to grind into Daniela’s clit in a way that has Daniela’s hips nearly levitating as she leans back, one hand behind her for support and the other mindlessly grabbing at Megan’s breast and an endless stream of curse words until— 

 

“Megan, I’m gonna come.”

 

She announces it and though Megan is well-aware of that fact, she appreciates it all the same. Daniela telling her that, because it’s Megan fucking her, makes her own cunt clench with need and she’s not really thinking when she grabs Daniela’s hand to yank it off her breast and shove it back between her legs. 

 

“Fuck me again. I wanna come with you.” No filter. No forethought. Just desire.

 

Daniela’s head falls back and she somehow moans even louder. Megan considers the fact that it’s the middle of the day and there’s a non-zero chance that some random neighbor passing by might be able to hear, but she doesn’t care. Not when Daniela’s fingers are back on her clit, rubbing with very little (and completely unnecessary) precision.

 

She hadn’t let up on her attention to Daniela and she’s ready for it when she feels—and hears, and sees—Daniela rocketing toward the cliff. She’s just as close from listening to Daniela and she doubles-down on her efforts to send them both over the edge.

 

“Fuck,” Megan eventually says once they’ve finished, through a laugh of disbelief. “That was…I don’t even know.”

 

She also doesn’t know when they ended up lying down. Daniela’s arm must have given out—or she gave up trying to stay upright—when she came because Daniela’s on her back and Megan’s on top of her, the angle kind of awkward and uncomfortable with how close they are to the edge of the bed. Neither of them seems to mind, though, because she lifts her head and turns to kiss Daniela without hesitating, and Daniela wraps her arms around Megan and sighs into it.

 

“We are so good at that,” Daniela says with a smile once the kiss slows to a natural end. She heaves a sigh and Megan can feel the way Daniela’s heart is still pounding. “I honestly didn’t know if you’d want to do it again.”

 

Megan obviously thinks that sentiment is ridiculous and it must show on her face because Daniela’s giving her a look.

 

“We did it, like, four times or something last night,” Megan says, finally finding the strength to push herself off of Daniela to crawl up the bed so she can turn onto her back and cool down. “You thought I’d change my mind?”

 

She watches Daniela do the same, rolling over to pull herself up into her side of the bed, though she remains stretched out on her stomach, head propped up on folded arms. Megan has the distinct urge to reach over and trace invisible patterns over her back.

 

“Well, you know,” Daniela says with an awkward shrug, given her position, “it could have always been a heat of the moment kind of thing.”

 

Megan still feels stripped bare, mentally in addition to the physical. Daniela unfolding her arm to reach over and rest her hand over Megan’s left breast to idly hold it, her thumb brushing back and forth across her nipple, keeps her from putting any filters back into place. Daniela likes the connection. She wants to touch Megan, to keep her in the moment. It’s exactly what she had done last night after the first time, teasing Megan’s nipple until she was begging for Daniela to make her come again.

 

Right now, though, it’s oddly comforting. Reassuring. Safe, even. And Megan knows they’re not finished, that this conversation is only an intermission so while her arousal simmers on low, she’s able to think soundly. “Well, just to be clear,” she says, bringing her hand up to rest over Daniela’s, “I’m totally down to keep doing this. Like, so down.”

 

Daniela’s gentle smile starts to grow until she’s pushing herself up onto an elbow and angling herself to hover above Megan. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. Our neighbors might actually hate us now, though. You’re so fucking loud.” 

 

Daniela tilts her head. “ I’m loud? I think my ear is still ringing.”

 

Megan feels herself blushing but she’s not embarrassed. “Whatever.” she mutters, glancing at Daniela’s lips because she wants to kiss them.

 

“I mean, hey, not complaining about the volume. You came so hard for me.” Daniela’s appreciative words sound like honey again and Megan knows they’re about to be finished talking. “Think you can do it again?” Her hand is already pulling out from under Megan’s, leaving her to play with her own nipple as Daniela’s moves lower.

 

Megan’s own hands weave their way into Daniela’s messy hair to pull her down for the kiss she’s been waiting for. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

 

 

 

 

Things are noticeably different. Even if they haven’t quite attached a label to it (whatever “it” even is, exactly) yet, Daniela knows that the sexual turn in their relationship has permeated through to every interaction of theirs. 

 

She’s fully, officially, certifiably, off-the-deep-end, head-over-heels for Megan. It’s an addiction, basically; one she hasn’t quite confessed the extent of yet, but feels aching in her ribcage all the same.

 

And the craziest part in all of it? The moments that cement this realization in Daniela’s mind aren’t the explicitly sexual ones: it doesn’t hit her when she’s spitting in Megan’s mouth, or taking her in the middle of breakfast, or finally making good use of that in-house practice studio in the basement of the KATSEYE house (after much prodding and pleading on Dani’s part and extreme mortification on Megan’s).

 

It hits her, instead, when Megan comes and sits on the couch uninvited and kisses her on the cheek before curling into her side to show her a funny TikTok like nothing out of the ordinary just happened; threading their fingers together; playing with Daniela’s hair not with the intention of foreplay but out of a need for simple, instinctual intimacy.

 

It hits her in the affectionate lilt of Megan’s voice whenever she calls her “ Daniela ,” not just “Dani,” taking the time to let the full Hispanic pronunciation roll off her tongue every now and again; discreetly downloading Duolingo and attempting to casually drop Spanish into regular conversation (often misused but valiantly attempted); encouraging Daniela to practice speaking Spanish with her just to keep the language in practice.

 

It hits her when they DoorDash late-night WingStop and wait for the fries to get all soggy before digging in (because they both agree that soggy fries are the far superior kind), and Megan “clinks” their fries together in an attempt at a cheers toast but ends up getting ranch on herself and it’s so dorky and stupid and quintessentially Megan that Daniela just looks at her with a fond smile and her heart’s about to burst and she knows for a fact she’s in love.

 

She keeps these revelations close to her chest. If there’s one thing Daniela will never do, for all her confidence and flirtatious bravado, it’s confess to feelings she knows might not be reciprocated to the same extent. 

 

The last thing she wants is to end up pushing Megan away with some overwrought declaration she isn’t ready for, or worse, doesn’t return. Why risk it, when what they have going is so good? Megan seems to be able to tell something more is on Daniela’s mind but, mercifully, never broaches the issue. Things are easy. 

 

So Daniela takes what she can get and doesn’t chance to ask for more; lets herself exist in this perfect, bizarre little bubble of unlabeled domesticity and codependent more-than-friendship “friendship” reserved for Megan and Megan alone.

 

Until. Well. They aren’t alone anymore.

 

 

 

 

We’re baaaaack!

 

Megan groans at the sound of Lara’s voice cutting through her quiet morning. She’s been half-asleep tangled up with Daniela since Lara texted them both late last night to let them know she and Sophia were finally cleared to come back to LA. Neither of them had wanted to sleep. Sleeping meant time would pass quickly. Sleeping meant less time to talk and kiss and touch. They’d been up all night and if Lara hadn’t texted again to say they were on route from the airport in an Uber, they’d probably still be naked.

 

It’s nearly been two months and the stay at home order has been lifted. She was obviously excited, of course. They both were! It meant they’d be back at work soon, back with the girls, finally getting their next project off the ground, back to some version of normal.

 

It also meant that their version of playing house would come to an end. Back to being friends. Back to being less-than-roommates; just girls who sleep in rooms across the hall from each other.

 

Megan feels Daniela’s arms tighten around her and it feels bittersweet; the whole night had. It felt like something was ending. Everything felt like it was going to be The Last Time. The last time that Daniela would kiss Megan’s thigh, that Megan would touch Daniela’s breast, that their tongues and lips would meet.

 

She’d felt the urge to tear up, once or twice. It had felt a lot like breaking up. 

 

With someone she wasn’t even dating. 

 

God, Megan needed to get a grip.

 

“Lara! Sophia! Welcome home,” Daniela calls downstairs as she pulls away from Megan to get out of bed and greet them.

 

Megan stares at the ceiling for a few seconds to make sure her face doesn’t look sad or pathetic before she sits up and plasters on a smile. It’s made easier when she gets to actually look at these two in person for the first time in months; she can’t contain her excitement, and neither can Daniela by the way both rush into the pairs of arms awaiting them. 

 

It’s easy to fall back into the old dynamic of things, and even with Manon and Yoonchae still awaiting clearance, it’s starting to feel like KATSEYE is clicking back into place, as if only a few days of separation transpired instead of several months. Sophia and Lara launch into an abbreviated but extremely entertaining account of their Spain escapades pre-pandemic, overlapping and interjecting with each other until the original point of the story gets completely lost. It doesn’t really matter; they’re all so just ecstatic to be in each other’s presence, and for a moment it gets Megan out of her head. Not for long, though.

 

“So, you two get up to anything particularly noteworthy during all this? Any recent developments we should know about?” Sophia prods at some point, thinly veiled implication needling within her words. Lara elbows her. Megan blanches.

 

“Oh, you know,” Daniela shrugs, “Same old, same old. We couldn’t get up to half the stuff you guys were able to do abroad, but we kept ourselves entertained. Lots of Monopoly.”

 

“Yeah, we just… hung out,” Megan supplies, anxious to not seem entirely guilty. And coming across way more culpable than she had intended.

 

Megan watches Lara look between her and Daniela, and then again. And a third time before she’s looking around the room and then walking around the room like she’s some kind of detective. 

 

She points at the flatscreen they had finally managed to get mounted on a wall. “We have a TV?”

 

“You can only watch so much Netflix on a 16-inch screen,” Daniela answers.

 

“And we got new chairs?” Sophia raps her knuckles a few times on the replacement set; a nice upgrade from the crudely-constructed IKEA chairs the girls had thrown together for their Move-In video and kept around the house out of fond obligation. These new chairs had managed to withstand some (extremely illicit) things the old set could not.

 

Megan hopes the mental embarrassment at the memories haven’t seeped into coloring her face, but Daniela’s equally guilty side glances aren't helpful.

 

“Yeah, you know, I moved it so I could clean the floor and a screw came loose on one of the legs and it was a lost cause when I tried to fix it,” Daniela explains easily. “Not like those chairs were gonna last, anyway. We had so much time, we decided to upgrade the place a little.”

 

“Upgrade, right,” Lara says with a laugh as she gives a glance in Sophia’s direction and motions towards her unwieldy and frankly ridiculous amount of luggage. “Megan, help me get set up in our room?”

 

Megan feels a slight pang of dismay at hearing the words “our room,” (after all, she has no rightful claim to Daniela’s anymore) but shakes it off and follows Lara upstairs. As she struggles under the weight of Lara’s massive set of matching pink suitcases, she thinks they might have actually passed whatever interrogation just transpired. Maybe her and Daniela were in the clear.

 

Of course, Megan only gets to entertain that notion for all of about three minutes, at which point Lara closes the door to their room and asks, “So how long have you two been fucking?”

 

“I, um. How. What?” There are a million words and questions and thoughts fighting to come out of her mouth, so she settles on a few pithy syllables of utter confusion.

 

Lara just stares at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like she asked about the weather forecast for next week. “You and Dani. How long did it take you two to get it on? I mean, you guys did finally have sex, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Megan responds without thinking. “I mean— Lara, what the hell ? How do you— okay, who’s to say that we even… because we did not …” she just trails off at the unyielding look on Lara’s face. Too many questions and all of a sudden very little air in her lungs to speak them into existence.

 

She manages to first ask, “How do you even know that I’m gay? I’ve never— You can’t just assume that about people.”

 

“Megan, let’s be real. You watch Glee for Santana Lopez. Your favorite movie is D.E.B.S.

 

“Okay, fine, point taken. But Dani, I mean. Who’s to say she’s…? And that we ever…?” she gestures at the air helplessly in lieu of words.

 

“Sophia and I have suspected you two had the hots for each other for, like, a while now,” she explains airly, “but we figured it would never actually happen on its own. In a way, being cooped up for months together with no outside interference was probably the best thing that could’ve happened. We’ve had a little bet going since we got stuck in Spain.”

 

Megan feels a sudden urge to throw up. “You bet on us?”

 

Lara shrugs and laughs, settling down on her bed opposite Megan’s. “Hey, at least Sophia had some faith. She bet it would take you guys at least a month; I said two weeks. So?”

 

“Well, are we counting kissing, or… you know. Being intimate? Because we didn’t kiss until forty–nine days.”

 

“Ugh, are you kidding me? I mean, totally happy for you two, but now I owe Sophia—”

 

“Technically we started doing stuff on Day 13.”

 

“I knew it!” Lara shrieks. “Oh hell yes. Sophia totally owes me her kitchen mixer now.”

 

“That is so not the most pressing issue in all of this.” Megan groans, pulling the blanket all the way over her head and falling backward to lay back down.

 

“Honestly, I don’t see any issue in any of it. Does this mean you two are officially a thing? And we can finally stop this game where we all pretend you’re not in love with each other?”

 

Megan feels her throat close up at those words. They hadn’t discussed that. Have they said, “I love you”? Yes. Was Megan 100% certain Daniela meant it in a romantic, deep way and not a platonic friend way? No. They somehow made it through two months of an intensely sexual affair and had no clear resolution. 

 

“Lara, just…” she sighs. Her voice is softer when she adds, “Don’t. Please? It’s complicated.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Lara says defensively but Megan knows that means she’s going to let it go. “But seriously, I’m proud of you. And happy for you! The rest of the girls besides me and Sophia have no idea, so I’m here, obviously, if you ever wanna talk about it.” Megan knows she means it. It’s one of the things she adores about Lara: you could come to her about anything and not have it feel like this big deal, or burden, or anything monumental at all, really. Because if Megan really thinks about it, Lara’s kind of the first person she came out to, and the weight of that doesn’t even register until Lara’s already halfway out the door again, shouting down the hall. 

 

“Say goodbye to that mixer, Sophia!”






Megan wasn’t sure how her and Daniela's newfound dynamic would change once Sophia and Lara returned to their lives.

 

They’d had two months of isolation together and, quite frankly, Megan had all but forgotten there was an entire world filled with other people beyond their four walls. The domesticity of their quarantine habits becomes stilted in the constant presence of others; it takes all of Megan’s self-restraint to not gravitate towards Daniela’s side (Or shoulder. Or hands. Or mouth). And while she loves the other girls to death, and completely understands why Lara and Sophia want to spend time as a group after being separate for so long, she really isn’t a fan of the way their presence has, thus far, forced her and Daniela apart.

 

She is, however, a big fan of the fingertips currently wandering inconspicuously along her left thigh. 

 

They’re meant to be working together to clean the kitchen after the dinner Sophia had made (a delicious Filipino chicken adobo; Megan and Daniela had, more than anything, grown to miss Sophia’s expert cooking as neither of them were handy enough in the kitchen to concoct anything more involved than failed lasagna) but both her and Lara had excused themselves minutes ago, explaining that they needed to get ready for their first in-person meeting back with the Hybe x Geffen management team to talk brand reconstruction, conveniently leaving the mess to Daniela and Megan to take care of.

 

Megan had decided to take on the dishes while Daniela finished clearing the table and stove, but following Daniela’s most recent trip to the sink where Megan stood, she’d dropped in the dishes instead of walking away, had stepped behind Megan.

 

It had made every hair on the back of her neck stand up when she sensed Daniela’s proximity and Daniela had giggled in her ear at Megan’s shiver the second her fingertips grazed the skin just below the hem of her dress.

 

“What are you doing?” she says under her breath, hand tightening so much on the plate she’s washing that it slips out and back into the water with a splash.

 

“Touching you,” Daniela answers breezily, as though she’s flipping through a magazine or shopping for shoes online. As if to reinforce her answer, her fingertips travel higher until they’re lifting up into Megan’s wide-leg pajama pants to glide over her hip and back down to where they tease a few inches above her knee. “Is that okay?”

 

“Sophia’s literally the next room over,” she whispers, clanging a few dishes in the sink to help cover her words.

 

Daniela’s response is just a hum followed by her fingers meandering their way higher once again. They don’t seem to be making their destination clear, though Megan’s body has a pretty good idea regardless. She can feel the way it’s responding to Daniela and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly she’s aroused.

 

Lara’s loud voice cuts through her thoughts, however. “Red top or black top?”

 

She feels Daniela move away from her as though she turned around. It’s a few seconds of reprieve from the oppressive arousal that is invading her mind and body.

 

“Ooh, go with the black,” Daniela replies easily.

 

“Red it is,” Lara teases. The sound of hangers shuffling and Lara and Sophia chatting amongst each other follows, as does Daniela’s presence behind Megan.

 

“What if I took you right now?” The words are whispered low in Megan’s ear and they, along with Daniela’s fingers quickly ascending her inner thigh, make her drop the same plate she’d already dropped a minute earlier. “Think I can make you come before they finish changing?”

 

Megan’s vision blurs. She has little doubt Daniela could make good on her proposal. Maybe it’s because the girls’ return to their lives was sudden and unexpected, leaving the current evolution of their relationship without a label. Maybe it’s because they didn’t get one last grand hurrah before having a third party present almost all hours of the day. But it’s been three days since they regained their two of their living-mates and three days without what had become Megan’s new normal: frequent and often intense physical satisfaction from Daniela.

 

Even under the cover of darkness they seemed to silently and mutually agree to keep their distance from one another. Separated in different beds, in different rooms. They hadn’t so much as kissed since the day Sophia and Lara returned.

 

So to say Megan’s horny is an understatement.

 

And now Daniela’s teasing her, touching her in not-quite-there places that she hasn’t touched her in what feels like an eternity with the promise for more with the girls’ departure from the house imminent. The first time they’ll be alone in 72 hours.

 

“You’re not going to answer me?” Daniela doesn’t whisper it, innocuous a question as it is out-of-context, and it, along with her finger brushing over the thin material of Megan’s underwear between her legs shakes Megan out of her reverie to send her hips rocking forward with a gasp and the word, “Shit.”

 

“Megan, did you cut yourself on the knife again?” Sophia calls from the other room.

 

She might as well have for as hard as her heart is beating. “Nope!” she grinds out, hoping she can deter Sophia from coming to investigate. “Thought I did but I’m not bleeding.”

 

“Those knives are no joke—try to be careful around them,” Sophia cautions in her typical leader-like fashion. “Maybe just let Dani take care of it.”

 

“Yep, got it!” she spits and sends a side-eye in Daniela’s direction at the giggling next to her ear. “She’s going to catch us if you don’t stop,” she says, lowering her voice.

 

“Maybe if you could control yourself.” There’s a smirk in Daniela’s tone and Megan tries to brace herself for it because she knows, she knows Daniela’s going to touch her again and just when she thinks it’s coming, the warmth of Daniela’s proximity disappears, accompanied by the scrape of hangers again.

 

“Ooh, you two look great!” Daniela says cheerfully. “Doesn’t she, Megan?”

 

Megan has to hang her head and gather her thoughts before slapping on a smile to turn and look. “Yep! Go get ‘em. Tell Son we said hi,” she says a bit disdainfully. It’s not fair how turned on she is and it’s not fair that Lara’s taking approximately three millennia to leave for the meeting which, if past corporate quarterlies are anything to go by, will likely keep them out all night.

 

“I don’t want to come home to any broken furniture,” Lara says casually as she drops a seemingly endless collection of items into an oversized tote, of which Megan doesn’t want to think about when she’s potentially seconds away from desperately needed release. “And I have a blacklight. I will be inspecting all communal surfaces—” This time it’s Sophia who interrupts Lara with an elbow jab.

 

Megan grimaces as she turns back to stare idly at the sink full of water and dishes. She should just pull the plug and give up on the task and she dries her hands on the dish towel in resignation. 

 

“You got it,” Daniela chirps. It’s not a denial that such an inspection won’t be necessary and that floors Megan even further. 

 

But for now, she’s more intent on listening to what seems to be the tail end of Lara and Daniela’s idle conversation and the sounds of Sophia putting on her shoes and throwing on her jacket, all the while feeling Daniela’s presence hovering behind her. Close enough that their elbows touch.

 

“Don’t wait up!” is the last thing she hears Sophia say before the door closes behind her.

 

The sound of it latching makes Megan slump against the counter. “I thought she’d never leave.”

 

“Stop talking,” Daniela says and her voice is so blunt it makes Megan stand up straight again, only to be pinned against the sharp edge of the counter by Daniela’s body pressing into her as their lips reconnect for the first time in days.

 

Megan just nods at the command and wraps her arms around Daniela’s neck to accept the hard, demanding kiss.

 

“Fuck, I want you so much,” Daniela breathes as her lips slide to Megan’s neck. Her hands are already on Megan’s thighs and Megan steps wider to accommodate her. She kind of wishes they would at least relocate to their bed first, but she has no real complaints. Not when Daniela’s fingers are already between her legs, rubbing against the soaked fabric of her underwear.

 

Megan moans in response and pushes her hips forward. She wants more: hard, fast, wet, deep. All of it. It’s been too long. 

 

The sudden onslaught of heat is, however, interrupted by the sound of the door banging open again.

 

“Forgot my keys! Pretend I’m not here.”

 

Daniela’s mouth disappears from Megan’s skin, both of them starting in surprise at Sophia’s unexpected, loud return.

 

“Did she say ‘pretend she’s not here’?” Megan says, voice hushed as she breathes hard, heart racing.

 

Despite her abruptly pulling her mouth away from Megan’s neck, Daniela’s still just as close as she had been, and her fingers are still pressing against Megan. They’re even moving, if only slightly. “Well… if she says so,” says Daniela, at this point completely undeterred.

 

“Oh, my God, stop,” Megan says when she realizes it, too startled by the interruption to notice it sooner. Her hand seizes Daniela’s forearm but she can’t quite bring herself to actually push her away, not when Daniela’s eyes are so dark and locked onto her own.

 

Megan can almost see Sophia in her periphery, mostly obscured from view as she moves around by the front door rifling through drawers.

 

Something about that, about Sophia acknowledging that she was interrupting something while pointedly ignoring it while she busies herself looking for her keys, scratches at a part of Megan she hadn’t really known existed, and suddenly she’s shaking her head.

 

“No, don’t stop,” she quietly amends, pushing Daniela’s hand harder against herself.

 

She watches the effect of her permission slip into Daniela’s features: a flush in her cheeks, eyes widening slightly with surprise, her lower lip snagged between her teeth as her fingers keep working against Megan. 

 

Megan can see the challenge in her eyes, can sense that Daniela’s remembering her daring questions from a few minutes ago about how quickly she could get Megan off. But Megan shakes her head; she doesn’t want that. Sophia’s right there even if she is distracted and Megan really doesn’t want to be mid-orgasm when she finds what she needs and waltzes through the kitchen where Daniela is actively fucking her.

 

Daniela seems to understand because she does ease up the slightest bit when Megan releases her death-grip on her arm in favor of gripping the counter. She can still remember the last time she was gripping this counter; she’s had multiple encounters involving those now-disposed-of IKEA kitchen chairs while Daniela fucked her within an inch of her sanity.

 

The memory zips right to her core and she can actually feel herself get wetter because of it. She knows Daniela feels it, too, because she moans, so, so quietly that it doesn’t even really leave her throat, and runs her fingers agonizingly slowly further, even teasing Megan’s entrance through her still-present underwear.

 

She has to close her eyes and try to focus on keeping it together. She can’t moan or work herself against Daniela’s hand or even kiss her; all of that would be too obvious. She focuses on her breathing and the way Daniela’s own warm breath drifts over her lips, a constant reminder of her closeness as if the fingers slowly driving Megan insane weren’t enough. The sound of jangling keys suddenly rings out and her eyes snap open to meet Daniela’s equally surprised and somewhat amused gaze.

 

“Found ‘em!” Sophia announces all sing-songy, and the light clanging of metal increases. “We’re headed out now for reals. Didn’t mean to interrupt!”

 

“It’s fine,” Daniela says lightly, like she’s not actively slipping her fingers under the edge of Megan’s underwear so her fingertips can massage—so, so slowly—Megan’s clit directly.

 

It makes a whimper escape Megan’s clenched jaw and she turns her head to appear very interested in the tile grout. She hears Daniela chuckle and sees Sophia emerge, past the kitchen (finally, thank god) heading toward the door. She knows Daniela’s body is obscuring what she’s doing, but that doesn’t stop the massive blush she feels hitting her cheeks.

 

“Okay, I’m out of here, I swear,” Sophia says, opening the door only to stop and keep talking. “I promise to knock if I need to come back for anything. I know you two have been keeping your knees closed since we got home and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that and I realize you’re probably really looking forward to us being gone tonight. But we miiight have to come back if I decide I need my—”  

 

“Sophia, leave!” Megan says, a little more forcefully than she intended it to be, but Daniela had chosen that exact moment to slip the tip of her finger inside Megan, even as she’s turning to smile at their departing roommate.

 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m sure Daniela could help you out of them if you needed it though,” Sophia huffs, very conspicuously under her breath. “I’m going, I’m going.”

 

“Have a good night!” Daniela chirps. 

 

Together, they watch the door close, Daniela already pushing the length of her middle finger into Megan while keys and the deadbolt jangle and clunk as Sophia locks it. If she returns, at least they’ll have a few extra seconds’ warning.

 

“Oh, my God,” Megan says, and she means to groan it but it comes out more like a desperate whine, but she doesn’t care. Daniela’s lips are waiting for her when she turns back from staring at the cabinet.

 

“That was so hot,” Daniela says before her tongue is filling Megan’s mouth, doing dirty things that dare to rival what she’s already doing between Megan’s legs.

 

Megan hums in agreement and rocks her hips forward when the heel of Daniela’s hand grinds into her clit. “You’re really gonna make me stand up for this?” she pants when Daniela’s lips travel to her neck once again.

 

“Just the first one,” she answers simply as a second finger slides in next to the first to make Megan lift herself up on her tiptoes for a few seconds before she’s pushing herself down onto them to try to take them deeper. 

 

“First one?” She needs more. No, she doesn’t need more; she knows she’s going to come, and quickly. But she wants more. She wants Daniela all night. The ferocity with which she simply wants Daniela in all senses of the term is an almost startling thought to have in the middle of getting fucked in the kitchen and it takes everything she has to not say something dumb.

 

Instead, she moans, “Faster,” and shifts her weight to her one foot so she can wrap her leg around Daniela’s waist, but before she can, Daniela’s twisting away from her. Her free hand grabs the nearest chair to spin and drag it over and for a second, Megan thinks she’s going to get to sit down but Daniela just pushes it against the counter next to Megan.

 

“Here,” she says, guiding Megan’s foot to rest on the seat of the chair instead of having to balance on one foot. It also parts her legs spectacularly wide.

 

“Oh, fuck,” Megan manages to laugh through a moan.

 

“Good?” Daniela asks, but it’s rhetorical. She’s no longer kissing Megan; instead, she’s watching. Watching her face, looking down—Megan’s PJs off and out of the way—and watching her hand as her fingers slide and curl their way in and out of Megan again and again.

 

But Megan nods anyway. It’s good. It’s so, so fucking good and watching Daniela watching how she’s fucking Megan has her—

 

“Shit, I’m so close,” she gasps, the first pings of her orgasm already making her hips twitch as her arms loop around Daniela’s neck again to try to keep from sinking to the floor.

 

The words make Daniela’s eyes snap to her face, dark eyes begging before she even says, “God—yes, come for me, Megan.”

 

Daniela doesn’t bother kissing her to shut her up. Daniela wants to hear her so she lets her hear, moaning and swe aring as she comes with Daniela’s fingers buried as deeply as they possibly can be.

 

She does kiss her once it’s passed and Megan’s trying to catch her breath, whining when Daniela withdraws from her because she’s not nearly ready to be finished yet. But the kiss is satisfactory enough for now because they haven’t kissed in three days and she’s pretty sure she could kiss Daniela forever and still want to kiss her again.

 

With Daniela’s hand no longer between them, she fits between Megan’s parted legs and Megan’s immediately grateful when Daniela’s hips, and the rough denim covering them, start to rock slowly against her. She hates that she’s still wearing underwear, but they’re so wet they slide deliciously against her with every roll of Daniela’s hips.

 

She’s the one to break the kiss after a few too many just-right connections. “You said just the first one.” Maybe she should feel pathetic for how needy she is, but she can’t find it in herself to care.

 

“Okay, okay,” Daniela says with a playful roll of her eyes as she takes a step back and aside and gestures to let Megan pass. “After you.”

 

Megan rolls her eyes in return and hurries across the room on somewhat unsteady legs until she’s standing at the foot of their bed. She’s suddenly filled with uncertainty, however. Should she crawl into bed and let Daniela undress her? Should she wait and see what Daniela has in mind next?


When Daniela isn’t immediately with her, she turns around to find out why, only to see Daniela just standing where she’s been the entire time, just looking at Megan as if she’s waiting for something.

 

There’s a shred of being given control that comes with Daniela hanging back and it emboldens her to bring her hands to the first button on her flannel, the one that sits nestled at the top of her cleavage, to unbutton it.

 

The action gets Daniela’s attention and her demeanor shifts from waiting for something to actively watching, eyes furtively bouncing from Megan’s fingers as they undo button after button. It’s not really necessary to be able to remove the top; she could simply pull it up and over her head at any time. But holding Daniela’s rapt attention and seeing the excitement and desire that builds with each small button slipping out of its hole is intoxicating.

 

She knows her bra is visible in the small gap that lengthens with each button. It has Daniela’s attention, eyes no longer quite reaching Megan’s, fixating on the skin she’s revealing and tracking her hands’ path until she’s undoing the final button at her waist. All that’s left to do is let it slip off her shoulders and fall.

 

“Take it off,” Daniela finally says after Megan makes her wait too long.

 

All it takes is a shrug of her shoulders and a tug on the hem to let the button-down flannel slink off her body to pool on the floor at her feet. The flannel wasn’t the least bit flattering or fancy, but Daniela watches the whole affair with a burgeoning, barely concealed hunger.

 

She’d expected the moment, one that has felt somewhat suspended in time, to extend further, for Daniela to stare and drink in her form the way Megan would do if their positions were reversed, to ask Megan to continue undressing for Daniela’s enjoyment.


Instead, Daniela advances so quickly she hasn’t quite finished taking the breath she knows she’ll need when Daniela’s lips are claiming hers again. Warm, strong hands are everywhere and she feels her bra loosen and get stripped away, followed by her breasts being claimed and held and squeezed in such a desperate, demanding way she realizes she hasn’t given much thought that Daniela is probably in a similar state as herself with their sudden hiatus.

 

“Lay down,” Daniela says with a sudden breaking of their kiss. Except she doesn’t stand back and let Megan do it herself. Her hands twist Megan by the hips to face the bed before she’s half-falling, half-crawling onto it. “Stay like that.”

 

The request instantly makes the back of her neck hot as she relaxes into the bed on her stomach, though nothing about her is at ease. She can hear Daniela undressing behind her, the tell-tale sounds of fabric shifting and the metal teeth of the zipper of her jeans before the sound of clothes hitting the floor tells her Daniela’s naked. Or mostly naked. She wants to twist her neck and look but it’s more fun to not know.

 

She’s startled and relieved when Daniela’s hands finally land on her calves, especially when they travel higher so quickly until she can feel Daniela climbing onto the bed behind her. Hands travel higher still until they’re palming her ass and she can feel hard nipples grazing the backs of her knees before teeth lightly but pointedly sink into the soft flesh along the edge of her underwear.

 

“Shit,” she can’t help but gasp, her back bowing from the way her body is responding to Daniela’s almost demanding touch. Fingers curl under the waistband of her underwear and pull. They’re so ruined that she hopes Daniela notices and is proud of her work as they’re peeled down her legs and tossed aside.

 

“You’re so hot,” Daniela breathes, hot against her back before wet kisses start dropping in random places. Her right shoulder. The back of her neck. Along her ribs on her left side. Daniela’s hands are still seemingly everywhere, fingernails dragging lightly down her back only to warmly slide up her sides, working their way under Megan until her breasts are in her hands and Daniela’s hips grind forward against her ass.

 

The feeling makes her jaw drop and a shudder runs down her back as her own hips try to press up and back, wanting contact that is only being hinted at as Daniela grinds into her, mouthing at her back and neck and making every part of her ache with need.

 

She’s about to beg for more when she feels Daniela lift away from her, hands skirting down her ribs to start tugging on her hips until she’s pushing herself up and onto her elbows and knees. The position makes her head spin and she presses her forehead into the mattress to brace herself. She bites her lip at the memory that springs up of all the times she was “forced” to watch Daniela do yoga on the floor.

 

And now here she is.

 

“Just like that,” Daniela praises and Megan feels a hand run up her back until it’s scratching at the nape of her neck and twisting into her hair. The other moves around to Megan’s stomach and then down until her fingers are slipping through Megan’s wetness again.

 

The sudden contact makes Megan moan and rock backward, instantly in search of more. Always more. “Fuck.”

 

“I can’t believe how wet you are.” Fingers sink into Megan as though to make her point and the fullness she feels with it makes her walk her knees wider.

 

She knows it’s three inside her, not two, and she clenches around them, moaning as she tries to pull Daniela deeper. “Fuck, Dani. Please.”

 

There’s a gentle tug on her hair that feels less than accidental. It felt a lot like a reminder of who’s in charge at the moment but despite that, her hair is released and nails drag down her spine again. Fingers slip out of her, then, and she whines in irritation only to feel them slip in again, this time from another angle. This time from behind, while the three that just withdrew from her start, with no teasing or hesitation, rubbing her clit.

 

“Oh, fuck,” she stutters, biting her lip because she doesn’t want to get too loud too soon. She’s bent over on the bed, Daniela behind her—kneeling between her parted legs, she assumes—using both of her hands to fuck Megan. “Oh, God don’t stop.”

 

Daniela doesn’t answer her. She just moves more quickly. Faster circles onto her clit. Faster fingers pumping into her cunt. Except as soon as Megan starts to get close, as soon as her moan is too obviously on-edge, Daniela eases off Megan’s clit and it drops her right back down to where she started. Maybe a degree or two higher. All but back at the beginning.

 

It’s maddening. And it’s thrilling. Daniela’s not exactly teasing her, though she is pointedly denying her an inevitable release.

 

“So good,” she says after a groan of agony when her orgasm gets yanked away from her again, only for it to start rebuilding immediately. She’s almost nervous about how hard she’s going to come when Daniela finally lets her.

 

She feels Daniela moving behind her, though her pace and rhythm fucking Megan barely falters. There’s a shifting of the bed, a squeaking of a different spring that isn’t one of the ones already whining and from their motion. She can see Daniela behind her at the very edge of her vision when she opens her eyes and turns to let her cheek rest against the bed instead of her forehead. She’s not directly behind Megan anymore and she’s still trying to figure out what’s happening when she feels the hot slickness that she knows is Daniela settling over her left calf.

 

Daniela moans with the contact, as does Megan who flexes her leg on instinct to harden the muscle just as Daniela drags herself against it.

 

Neither says anything but it’s a mutual acknowledgment. Daniela is so turned on she needs relief herself but her hands are both too busy with Megan to touch herself. Megan’s happy to provide what she can in her position.

 

She can only watch for a few seconds before it threatens to give her a headache from straining, the blurry silhouette of Daniela astride her leg, rutting herself against it wantonly.

 

“Fuck, Megan,” she finally moans after what feels like several minutes of Daniela not easing up. It makes Megan shiver and tense up in anticipation that Daniela might come soon. That Daniela might let her come soon.

 

The spot Daniela’s reaching in her right now, though, might not give Daniela any say in the matter. It’s making Megan’s fingers twist into the bedding to ground herself because she feels like she might ascend any second.

 

Only Daniela fucking stops and the groan that gets ripped from Megan’s throat is ripe with frustration, enough that she hears Daniela laugh. “What’s wrong?” Daniela asks entirely too cheerfully for what’s happening. But Daniela doesn’t just stop, she actually pulls out of Megan. She almost deflates in agony but Daniela’s hands catch her hips before she can and she can tell she’s moving again.

 

“Fuck off,” Megan replies though it’s all sexual frustration and no ire. She’s already resigned herself to being at Daniela’s mercy for whatever she feels like doing to her tonight. She knows it will be worth it in the end if she can find the patience.

 

She can’t see Daniela anymore if she opens her eyes and she doesn’t bother trying to lift her head. She likes not knowing what’s going to happen next. She can tell Daniela’s moving away from her; she’s not straddling her leg anymore. The hands on her hips move to her ass to grip it, almost tugging on it possessively and Megan chokes on air when Daniela’s tongue is suddenly pressing into her.

 

“What…fuck…” she groans, pushing herself up onto her elbows again so she can let her head hang. It’s too hard to breathe otherwise. Not when Daniela’s tongue is inside her. Not when it audibly slides out to instead lick at her swollen clit.

 

There’s movement again and this time she feels Daniela’s body settling between her legs and she cranes her neck down enough to look down her own body to see Daniela on her back, already pulling Megan down toward her face. She manages to wonder if Daniela knows Megan’s looking because her tongue is literally out and waiting like she wants Megan to see and both of them moan when Megan lets her knees slide wider apart until she’s on Daniela’s tongue.

 

She should have known Daniela would be just as merciless with her mouth as she’d been with her hands. There are only a few seconds of gentle grazing before Daniela has her clit between her lips to suck on it.

 

All Megan can really do is hold on. Daniela’s grip is so tight around her thighs she can barely move. Her hips want to rock, want to ride Daniela’s face, but she can’t.

 

At least Daniela doesn’t let up when Megan lets a moan slip that is a dead giveaway that she’s close.

 

“Please,” she says between gasping breaths and moans. “Fuck, please…

 

Daniela’s answering hum lilts positively and she sucks harder. Like she’s giving Megan permission. Permission she hadn’t consciously been waiting for but somehow needed because as soon as it registers as permission, the orgasm that’s been denied at least half a dozen times in the past however many minutes crashes through her with frightening intensity. She can’t breathe but somehow can’t stop moaning. She can’t feel her own fingers but she can feel the way her body is pulsing around the fingers that she doesn’t remember slipping into her with the new position.

 

A particularly strong aftershock lurches her forward and out of Daniela’s grasp, leaving her to gasp to catch her breath and try to recover, even as she feels Daniela’s lips on the curves of her ass and up her spine and across her shoulders until she sees through blurry vision as Daniela stretches out on her back alongside her, smiling at Megan until Daniela’s eyes close with a moan. Megan doesn’t have to look down to know Daniela’s touching herself; she’s watched her do it enough times that she knows exactly what it looks and sounds like.

 

But she does anyway because she’ll never get tired of watching Daniela fuck herself until she’s coming and moaning Megan’s name. She wants to help. She wants to turn onto her side and push Daniela’s hand away and take over.

 

Her heart is still pounding, though, and all she can manage is to reach a tired hand over to rest it on Daniela’s just to feel. She’s touching herself hard and fast and it doesn’t help Megan’s pulse to slow. The connection makes Daniela moan her name and it draws Megan’s eyes back up to her face. Daniela’s gaze is on her, though it frequently drifts as her eyelashes flutter the closer she gets.

 

Daniela’s climax hits her hard, thighs closing to trap her and Megan’s hands between them while she rides it out.

 

“God, I needed that so much,” Daniela says with a sigh of relief after a minute or two, head lolling to the left to look at Megan with an easy, contented smile.

 

Megan’s sure she herself still looks wrecked, but she can’t find it in herself to care. She manages a breathy laugh. “You’re telling me. Fuck, dude.”

 

Daniela’s smile brightens and she shimmies her shoulders a little. She’s proud. “Good?”

 

Megan laughs again, this time in disbelief because ‘good’ doesn’t even begin to describe what she just experienced.

 

“Gonna assume that means yes.”

 

“Mm, you’d be right,” Megan replies, finally finding the strength to stretch. “I owe you.”

 

“You don’t owe me anything.”

 

Megan glances at her as she stretches until she’s working herself onto her side so they can look at each other more easily. “Still going to repay you though. Just...need a minute. I can almost feel my legs again.”

 

Daniela bursts into laughter at that and it makes Megan’s heart skip a beat. It’s never been so easy to be with anyone after sex. And the sex. She knows it’s cliche, but she’s had hands down the best sex of her life with Daniela.

 

And she’s just as happy with Daniela when they aren’t having sex; if she wasn’t, they wouldn’t have been friends for this long.

 

But she really, really misses the sex when they aren’t having it.

 

She knows what that all means but she shoves it away and instead works on gathering her strength because she’s determined to make Daniela come just as hard as she’d been made to. She knows Daniela would be fine with things if they fell asleep right now and that only makes Megan want her more. She also can’t accept the fact that Daniela’s fucked her senseless twice already and Megan’s barely had a chance to touch her tonight.

 

She hasn’t touched her at all. Not really.

 

Even if Daniela’s insisting Megan owes her nothing in return, she’s not-subtly suggesting she wouldn’t be opposed by lifting her hand, fingers still wet from herself, to Megan’s lips.

 

She needed an energy shot and Daniela’s given it to her. She can’t stop the moan that comes with tasting Daniela as she parts her lips to take her slender middle finger into her mouth. It spurs her on until she’s sitting up, Daniela’s hand falling away so Megan can move over until she’s leaning down to kiss Daniela and her hips fit between Daniela’s parted thighs.

 

She can tell Daniela’s trying to hold back, and as thoughtful and sweet as Megan finds that to be, she doesn’t want it. She kisses harder, rolling her hips against Daniela until Daniela’s fingernails dig into Megan where her hands have been idly resting.

 

“I wanna fuck you,” Megan says when she breaks from their kiss. The look on Daniela’s face at her statement is very telling.

 

“Who’s stopping you?” She’s a little breathless and her hips are still pushing up into Megan’s in the rhythm Megan had set, though Megan’s no longer moving.  

 

The statement is one of consent in its sexiest form. It makes her bite her lip in thought; she hadn’t gotten that far yet. She just knew she wanted to be the one responsible for Daniela’s next orgasm (or two, or three...).

 

“How do you want me?”

 

The question draws Megan out of her thoughts and she meets Daniela’s eyes. She’s looking at Megan expectantly and she’s still working herself against Megan’s hips for whatever friction she can gain. It also plants another idea in her brain.

 

“Like this,” she answers with a pointed roll of her hips that makes Daniela’s breath catch, only for Megan to extract herself from their embrace until she’s climbing off the bed.

 

She can feel Daniela’s eyes on her as she sits up to rest on her elbows, watching as Megan crouches to pull open the bottom drawer of Daniela’s nightstand.

 

(About a week ago, when Daniela had walked in from the daily mail check carrying an Amazon package and wearing a smile, Megan hadn’t thought anything of it. She’d watched with mild interest as Daniela opened it, singing to herself while doing so until she’d turned to face Beca holding up a small pair of black briefs with a ring positioned low on the front of them to ask Beca, “What do you think?”

 

“Dude. No fucking way you actually bought that,” she’d gaped, knowing full-well what it was.

 

“You said your favorite position was getting it from behind,” Daniela shrugged like she was reminding Megan she’d said strawberry was her favorite ice cream.

 

“So you bought a strap-on ?” She didn’t know why she was being so argumentative when the mere sight of it made her throat dry. So far, Dani’s purchase proved to be a fantastic return on investment.)

 

Megan tries not to blush as she slips the harness briefs Daniela had purchased—and thus far, put to good use—specifically to bend Megan over; Megan has yet to wear it until now. No time like the present to remedy that fact.

 

“Shut up, you asked,” Megan huffs though she’s not genuinely defensive. She grabs the accompanying toy and bottle of lube before climbing back onto the bed to kneel between Daniela’s legs, still parted just as she’d left her, and work the toy into its O-ring.

 

“Can’t believe you’re trying to top me right now.”

 

Megan does blush at that and throws a glare her way. Megan’s affinity for being… receptive to Daniela being in charge was something they were both aware of but never explicitly discussed. Until now, apparently. “Hey, I can always put this away, you know. Call it a night. Catch up on some much-needed beauty sleep.” She stretches and fakes a yawn for emphasis.

 

“You’re such a dork.” Daniela smiles up at her and pointedly spreads her legs wider. It’s not necessary whatsoever; Megan already had plenty of room. She does it to tell Megan she wants it—wants her—and Megan leans down to kiss her, taking care to keep her hips back so there’s nothing but the barest graze of contact for Daniela.

 

She melts into the kiss; Daniela’s intentionally keeping it slow and sensual even though Megan’s the one ostensibly in control. She doesn’t mind, though. The things Daniela can do with her tongue, whether it’s in Megan’s mouth or on Megan’s skin, never make Megan want to rush things (other than when Megan just wants to come).

 

She’s unhurried now, though. Satiated, mostly. She still feels warm and heavy and when she feels Daniela’s hand between them to guide the toy, Megan uses that weighty feeling to sink into her.

 

Daniela’s reaction is a low, throaty groan that makes Megan’s hips grind into her on instinct to prolong the sound. She’s never done this with Daniela, but it doesn’t feel as awkward as she had anticipated. She doesn’t feel pressured to perform and Daniela is so warm and at-ease beneath her. She knows she can take her time if she wants to, even as Daniela’s quiet whimpers and shifting hips urge her to do more than stay buried in her and grinding slowly while they kiss.

 

When she feels Daniela’s heel press into her lower back, she decides she can be done taking her time.

 

It’s easy to set a slow rhythm with her hips, especially once she lifts herself onto her elbows. It lets her look at Daniela, too, and the way her long eyelashes flutter every time Megan pushes into her.

 

The physical connection between them is, she knows, artificial, but the emotional one feels particularly real and resonating and for all the wild, lustful abandonment of how the night began, it feels particularly calm and almost soothing and the way Daniela’s eyes are on hers as she lifts a hand to frame Megan’s face, thumb tracing along her cheekbone until Megan’s kissing it when it presses against her lips only adds to it.

 

She’s filled with the urge to speak, to spill out feelings and confessions and she almost does it. Her lips even part and she takes a breath. But Daniela chooses the exact same moment to tilt her head back and moan, “Faster,” and the moment evaporates in favor of doing as Daniela asked.

 

She works her hips faster until she finds a good pace she can keep without getting too winded and it seems to work for Daniela, too, who moans her appreciation in the way Megan knows means she’s starting to lose herself to sex.

 

And that, the fact that Daniela can lose herself in the way Megan can make her feel, is what drives her. Drives her to shift herself until she can get a hand on the back of Daniela’s left knee to pull it up and then press it back, closer to Daniela’s chest. Drives her hips into Daniela with more force.  

 

It pulls a groan of what sounds like surprise from Daniela, whose hands claw at Megan’s shoulders at the dramatic change from a steady tempo to what Megan knows is raw fucking driven by need. A need for pleasure and release.

 

“Oh, my God, Megan,” Daniela moans. She still sounds dazed and Megan watches as she throws a hand back to press against the back of the headboard to brace herself. It helps Megan’s thrusts hit even harder and more deeply and she watches as Daniela’s other hand falls from Megan’s shoulder to move between them. All Megan has to do is glance down for a second to confirm her assumption: Daniela’s touching herself again.

 

It means she’s close and wants to come and Megan doesn’t try to stop her. She wants to watch Daniela come like this, neck straining and body moving higher and lower on the bed with every move Megan makes.

 

It’s Megan that’s doing all these things to her. Making her moan. Making her so wet Megan can hear it. Making herself come while Megan’s pushing into her again and again with a moan that sounds ripped from her throat as she shudders. Megan slows so she can watch it happen until she’s no longer moving, just breathing hard and pressed as close to Daniela as she can manage while Daniela breathes just as hard.

 

Megan should have known when Daniela’s body didn’t melt into the bed in relaxation, but she’s still caught off-guard when Daniela’s eyes finally open and they’re just as dark as they’d been before she came.

 

“Don’t stop yet.”

 

Megan doesn’t mean to laugh but it’s a hint of delirium and a dash of physical exhaustion that cause it and she tries to cover it up by clearing her throat and shifting her weight to her right arm instead of her left, but she knows Daniela caught it when hands come up to hold her shoulders.

 

“It’s okay,” Daniela says earnestly and Megan knows it is, though she doesn’t necessarily agree with the implications.

 

“I can do it again,” she says with determination and tries to ignore the way her weaker, non-dominant arm is already trembling.

 

“Megan,” Daniela says with a smile that turns into a smirk as she nudges at Megan’s shoulders. “Lay down?”

 

The offer comes as a relief even though her pride doesn’t want to admit it. She’s also really, really here for them rolling over because she definitely wants to watch Daniela riding her. 

 

Except when Megan moves, Daniela doesn’t move with her and Megan finds herself alone on her back next to Daniela, who’s already sitting up, only to lean back down and kiss Megan as if she’d forgotten to do so before they parted.

 

“All good?” Daniela asks when they part and at Megan’s nod, the base of the strap-on grinds down against her clit.

 

“Fuck,” Megan gasps, hips immediately lifting in search of more. She’d been left painfully turned on with Daniela’s climax and she’s not sure how long she’ll last if Daniela’s going to keep doing what she’s doing. “Yeah, all good,” she answers after swallowing hard.

 

“This angle’s good?” Daniela’s purposeful with the way her hand is pressing and working the toy against Megan and Megan just nods. “Perfect,” she continues.

 

Megan watches her sit up again, missing her lips and the indirect friction but she knows it’s temporary.

 

She’s not ready for it, though, when instead of her right leg straddling Megan, Daniela’s turning her back to Megan and it’s her left leg straddling her.

 

“Oh, my God,” Megan says without thinking. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud but Daniela heard her and answers with a hum and all Megan can do is grab Daniela’s hips and watch Daniela guide the strap-on into herself until her body is flush with Megan’s. The view is different and just as sinful. Daniela’s back is all muscle and smooth skin that is already slick under Megan’s hands. Her hair hangs loose and reaches far down her back when she tips her face toward the ceiling with a moan that sounds more than satisfied.

 

She starts to move and immediately moans again. “You feel so good, shit, Megan.” There’s no slow increase of tempo this time; it’s clear Daniela doesn’t need the build-up. She leans forward just slightly and suddenly Megan’s the one groaning in surprise.

 

Now she understands what Daniela had been doing seconds ago. She wanted to figure out the angle that wasn’t just good for herself but good for Megan, too. 

 

Daniela wants to make Megan come while she rides her. 

 

“Good?” Daniela says with a turn of her head, though her eyes can’t meet Megan’s.

 

“Fuck,” Megan answers, digging her fingernails into Daniela’s hips to make her point. “Fuck, you look so hot .”

 

It’s not really an answer to Daniela’s question but it’s good enough. Daniela keeps the angle but works her hips even faster, her hands pushing through her own hair to lift it off her back in what is probably just need to cool off but it’s downright pornographic. It makes Megan’s hips start chasing her and Daniela feels it. 

 

Her hands drop from her hair to cover Megan’s hands. Connection. Connection as she rides Megan so hard that the metal legs of their shitty fold-out bed are scraping against the wooden floor with her motion.

 

“Dani,” Megan says. “Fuck.” She’s trying to warn her, to tell her she’s going to come any second and if the goal is to finish together, Daniela needs to slow down.

 

“Yes, Megan, yes,” Daniela groans in response and her long, hard thrusts shift to sitting hard against Megan and grinding down and back. “God, Megan, come with me,” she gasps, right hand shifting to pull Megan’s hand off of her and tangle their fingers together before pressing it back against her waist.

 

Connection.

 

Megan doesn’t know who’s louder or who comes harder or longer. All she knows is that it’s together and even if she can’t see Daniela’s face at the moment, she doesn’t need to feel just as close to her as she had felt earlier. It’s heady and all-encompassing and she hisses at the unexpected direct contact of fingertips against her overstimulated clit. She didn’t even notice Daniela had moved at all, let alone turned around to lay next to Megan again.

 

“One more?” she asks as she kisses along Megan’s cheek.

 

Megan genuinely doesn’t think she can, at least not so soon, but all she can manage in reply is a moan when her hips decide for her and lift up into Daniela’s hand. It’s a snug fit, her hand down the front of the briefs, but that doesn’t matter. It makes it better.

 

“Why?” Megan finally manages just before Daniela’s lips make it back to her own.

 

“Why not?” Daniela answers.

 

Then they’re kissing again but Megan can hardly manage more than just offering her lips and mouth and tongue to Daniela for whatever she wants; she can’t focus anymore. Not when Daniela’s fingers are swiping back and forth across her swollen clit with a lewd kind of intensity that makes Megan feel a little like she’s in an adult film. One she’s proud to be the star of at the moment.

 

She doubts that she’ll be able to come again even with how amazingly intense it feels. It feels like a never-ending chord that’s been struck and sustained and she thinks it’s going to fade away until something changes. Maybe the speed or the angle or the pressure but with no warning and with a gasp that only makes Daniela kiss her harder when really what she needs is oxygen her body rocks into a blinding orgasm.

 

After a few moments, Daniela’s voice registers in her ear which lets her breathe again. She doesn’t know what she’s saying but she sounds happy. Proud, maybe. It’s hard to concentrate on language when her body won’t stop throbbing and clenching around the fingers that slipped inside her at some point.

 

“I could do this with you forever.”

 

They’re the first words that register once her brain clears. They’re whispered by the lips grazing her cheek and jaw but she hears them ringing like a bell in her mind and they’re echoing her own thoughts from earlier.

 

Megan doesn’t dwell on it. She’s not really capable of complexities and she’s already been stripped bare in so many ways tonight. She just sighs and says, “So could I,” and tilts her chin so her lips can find Daniela’s.

 

She doesn’t start to panic about the exchange until Daniela’s helped her get the briefs off and tossed aside and she’s settled, warm and more than satiated, tucked into Daniela’s side, head on her shoulder and Daniela says, oh so casually, “So, forever, hm?”

 

It makes a different kind of heat flash through her and she hides her burning face against Daniela and does little more than sigh to at least acknowledge she heard her. She doesn’t know how to talk about this. She’s bad with words. Puts her foot in her mouth all the time. She’s an expert at saying the wrong thing. 

 

“Megan,” Daniela says with a chuckle that rumbles against Megan’s ear. “It’s okay, you know?”

 

She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what Daniela is referring to. She has an idea, but right now, assumptions and misinterpretations could be deadly. So she chooses to remain silent with the hope and trust that Daniela will just keep talking and have most of this conversation herself.

 

“And I know things are starting to go back to how they used to be. But… I don’t want us to go back to how we used to be.”

 

“You don’t?” Megan’s proud of herself for mustering a non-evasive response and stops pressing her face into Daniela’s shoulder and turns her cheek to it again. It helps that Daniela’s fingertips are grazing idly up and down her back in a way that could put Megan to sleep if her mind wasn’t racing. 

 

She feels Daniela shake her head. “I really, really don’t.” There’s a beat of silence and Megan hears her sigh. “Do you?”

 

Megan feels like she could hear a pin drop if someone were to drop a pin and if she could hear over Daniela’s heart suddenly pounding in her chest beneath Megan’s ear. It betrays Daniela’s outward stillness and the notion that the question she’s posed is making her nervous, too, is somehow calming Megan. Maybe it’s that Daniela’s been thinking about it, too, and for all the same reasons Megan’s been kicking around in her mind for weeks, has been wary of bridging the topic.

 

It’s a yes or no question, one that will push them to one side of a line or the other: Just Friends or Something More. Dani and Megan or Dani and Megan. Friends or, dare she think it, girlfriends. After dancing around the topic for so goddamn long, maybe they’re finally going to get it right.

 

Her fingers rap quickly in thought where they lay against Daniela’s ribs as she tries to get her mind to slow down long enough to answer. She knows she’s taking too long and Daniela’s going to interpret her silence as a bad thing if she doesn’t hurry up and speak.

 

“No,” she blurts. She didn’t even realize she’d committed to the decision but the word is past her lips before she can analyze it any further.

 

She feels Daniela’s sharp exhale. “You don’t?”

 

It’s out now. She gives a shake of her head and feels Daniela’s arm moving to better wrap around her. “No. I… really don’t.”

 

Daniela giggles at that and Megan watches Daniela’s other hand come up to touch Megan’s chin so Megan leans back and lifts her head a bit so they can actually look at one another. She doesn’t overlook that Daniela’s bright eyes are a little misty in the same way they get when the little girl gets a puppy in whatever heartfelt movie they’re watching at any given time. Daniela’s smiling, too and Megan can’t help but mirror it. “So what does that mean?” Daniela asks, eyebrows lifting in a way that feels mildly like a challenge.

 

Megan huffs. “You’re gonna put this on me , huh?”

 

Daniela shrugs and the hand that had grazed Megan’s chin moves to comb through Megan’s hair slowly, careful where there are tangles as she brushes it away from Megan’s face and behind her shoulder. She also worries at her bottom lip with her teeth even as she smiles.

 

It’s hard to imagine going back from this. That thought, and the way Daniela’s looking up at her with nervous excitement and touching her so lovingly… “Maybe that means we could try like...dating.” She has to bite her tongue to stop the ‘or whatever’ that wants to end the statement and instead rolls her eyes a little but quickly returns them to Daniela when fingernails scratch lightly at the back of her neck.

 

Daniela’s lip slips from between her teeth when her smile widens. “Yeah?”

 

“I mean… if you want.” She shrugs playfully. “I guess we could.”

 

“Okay,” Daniela says with a nod, barely concealing excitement. “I’d like that.” Her hand tugs at Megan’s neck and Megan lets herself be reeled in for a slow kiss.

 

Megan would like that, too. Very much.