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“Natalie?” Lottie’s voice rang out through the hotel room. She wasn’t scared, per say, but their arguement from earlier kept Lottie’s skin prickling. It’s always hard to be the first one to breach the surface after fighting, even harder when she’s been fighting with Natalie. Neither of them were wrong, not really, but she was still frustrated. Was it really the end of the world, a no-go on her friendship, just because Lottie cared about her? Was it that hard for not to just accept that Lottie gave a fuck about her? She can feel frustration bubbling up again just thinking about it, and has to take a deep breath to calm down. The shower switches off, and Lottie sits on the bed, waiting.Natalie opens the door wrapped in just a towel, hair scraggly and dripping. She doesn’t see Lottie right away in her haste.
“Jackie I know your concept of boundaries is lacking but come on-“ Nat stops and her eyes get a little bigger when she sees who’s invaded her hotel room. It’s technically Lottie’s hotel room, too, but still. Nat flushes a little, both because she’s functionally naked and because they had fought like, two hours ago.
“Oh,” she says a bit breathier than she would’ve liked, “Hi, Lot”
Lottie smiles tentatively at her, sitting criss cross on the bed, pyjamas on already even though it’s only seven. Hope blooms in her chest at the blonde girls use of her nickname-for-a-nickname. Natalie doesn’t want to be mad, but the fact that Lottie is here instead of being out with the rest of the team celebrating their win at states, and is instead here to talk to Natalie, reignites the itchiness of self-depreciating anger sitting indignantly under her ribcage. Lottie is giving up good things in her life, for Nat. She’s doing it again right now, like it’s no big deal and she doesn’t even realize, and that fills Nat with furious embarrassment and a distinct sense of undeservedness. Lottie gives up her money, her friends, her celebration. It’s not fair, and Nat wants her to stop. She can’t offer Lottie anything in return. And, Nat can see the full length of her legs, tan and smooth and extending for miles, white-painted toenail polish chipping, and that’s not fair either, because she can’t. She just can’t. Not Lottie.
Her flush grows on her cheeks under Lottie’s continuos gaze, and she turns quickly to grab clothes from the top of her suitcase when it’s clear Lottie isn’t going to continue speaking. Face hidden, hands occupied with fruitless rifling through her clothes, Nat finds it in herself to speak again, faking nonchalance.
“What’s up?”
Natalie can hear Lottie shifting on the bed, and yeah, this is awkward. It has to be awkward, there’s nothing they can do about it now. Nat and Lottie don’t fight, usually. They share cigarettes at parties, they talk shit about the JV girls that sort of suck, they share understanding looks when Jackie and Shauna are fighting (again), or when one of them is inevitably asked a too-close-to-home question about their families. But they don’t fight. Except today, they did.
“Can we talk?” Lottie says quietly, and Nat is pulled from her thoughts by picturing the way Lottie is playing with her rings on her hands right now, it’s always been her nervous tell. As if the universe read her mind, Nat hears the sound of gold rings clinking together. She sighs.
“Yeah, Lot,” she says, “Let me go get dressed, okay?”
Lottie doesn’t say anything, so Natalie goes back into the bathroom to change. Is that weird? They change in front of each other in the locker room all the time. This feels like a charged moment, or did she make it that way by choosing to change in the bathroom. It’s all so stupid, Nat thinks. It’s Lottie. Whatever they were fighting about, they’re still NatandLottie.
Natalie knows the whole team could hear them, when they fought. Lottie got a high pitch screech about her when she got particularly irate in Nat’s direction, looking for all the world like she wanted to stop her foot as if she was a petulant toddler. She knows the team heard them arguing the same way she knows her friendship with Lottie carries the uniquely charged undercurrent of something else. It’s a live wire running from a hooked point right under her sternum and stretching out to attach to Lottie in the same place. She knows that’s what they were really fighting about. Nat isn’t stupid, isn’t so out of touch with her own desires to not understand what her and Lottie were actually fighting about. She does hate it about herself though, because Lottie doesn’t deserve another uninformed devotee following her around, she actually complained about the boys at school all of the time. Lit starfish on the field, panting heavily after the most recent round of drills, Lottie would lament about the boys from class that would accost her in the hallway. She obviously doesn’t want Nat to be one of them. She just wants to be Natalie's friend, and Nat can’t even let her do that. Nat huffs and shakes her head, going to get dressed.
She pulls her plaid pyjama pants up over her legs and. And fuck. She had taken Lottie’s hoodie out of her bag in her distraction. Natalie didn’t even realize she still had it, this godforsaken piece of clothing, back from that first scrimmage.
The first scrimmage of Natalie’s freshman year, a JV girl who couldn’t afford new cleats, let alone a team hoodie with her name and number on it. When coach Martinez had split the team into half penny jerseys and half team sweaters, Nat had freaked. It would be just her luck to be picked for the sweaters team, too. Up until that point, she had assumed they would just use different coloured jerseys, but as the colder months creeped in, not cold enough to have to move onto the fake turf inside but not warm enough for t-shirts, everyone was wearing sweaters on the field anyways. She can taste the panic coating her tongue now, thinking about it. Nat hadn’t known any of the girls besides Van before she joined the soccer team, and she didn’t really want to announce her financial state to the whole of the team, her tentative friendships crumbling around her in a flash as she pictured it. There must have been a sense of a caged wild animal about her, because without saying anyways Lottie had shucked her hoodie off and tossed it in Nat’s direction before pulling on her penny jersey. Nat hadn’t said anything, feeling a bit like a charity case, but Lottie smiled at her knowingly anyways. This was four years ago, and Lottie had shot up a foot taller from where she already towered over everyone, and so Nat had never given it back or bought her own. It had never bothered her, or Lottie, even if they caught flak from the team.
Now though, she had to walk back out there to face Lottie and have a conversation with levels of seriousness and feelings that she absolutely did not want to have, in Lottie’s too-big hoodie that said Matthew’s on the back along side of a big number 5. Like she’s Lotties fan girl, or god forbid, her girlfriend. The offensive piece of clothing had never held such heavy implications before, but well. They were in the intermission of a blowout fight. Wearing Lottie’s sweater shifted it from a friendship argument to a lovers quarrel. A one-sided lovers quarrel, but a quarrel nonetheless. Natalie smiles a humorless smile at herself in the mirror at the sheer absurdity of her bad luck. Nothing to be done about it, she sighs to herself and leaves the stuffy bathroom, hoodie on, sleeves shoved halfway up her forearms to avoid drowning in the fabric.
Lottie heats up a little when natalie finally comes back out of the bathroom. She can’t see her name sitting right over the small of Nat’s back because the girl is facing her, but she knows it’s there. The size of the hoodie alone tells her that it’s hers. She smiles a little, subdued because of their current situation but warmed at the memory anyways. Lottie had wanted to be Nat’s friend all through junior high school, which is when they first crossed paths, but Natalie was always so standoffish, and Lottie was nervous by nature. She recognized the panicked twitch of Nat’s eyes that day on the field, and she put it together quickly, quick enough to help and smart enough to not push Nat to thank her.
“I didn’t mean to grab it,” Nat says, breaking the tense silence. She’s squirmier and more embarrassed than she usually dares to be, and Lottie’s elects to give her some grace by not ribbing her about it. She knew Nat had the hoodie, obviously. She wore it during all of the outdoor fall practices from the moment it was in her possession, Lottie had seen her wear it a few months ago. The choice to wear it now, though, feels important. Lottie can’t pin down why.
“It’s alright,” she says, scooting over on the end of the bed and hoping Nat will sit with her. She takes the bait, sitting on her own hands and pointedly not looking at Lottie. It’s quiet for a moment, and Lottie can’t remember there ever being a time when it was so uncomfortable between them.
Nat was quiet for the first half of freshman year, like really quiet in a forced I-don’t-care sort of way. She didn’t really make an effort to insert herself into the social foil of the team, but there was a shared understanding between her and Lottie then. She knew Van, she could tell from the way her and Nat showed up and left practice together, but she didn't socialize herself with the other girls or even the upperclassmen (not even half the JV girls from freshman year lasted anyways, so). But she and Lottie had a connection, she could feel it settling under her ribs. A bruise on Nat’s upper arm, put there obviously by another person, hurriedly covered up and followed by nervous eyes flicking around to see if anyone noticed. A smile from Lottie holding no pity and an aversion of her eyes, an expensive bruise-treating cream snuck into her soccer bag that Nat found when she got home. A vacant look in Lottie’s eyes, no response from her when coach asks the team a question, not noticing when she puts her jersey on backwards or misses every shot that practice. A cassette tape with a well worn label left in her locker the next day titled ‘drown it out,’ with a coffee crisp bar and a sticky note signed off ‘-Nat.’ They had understood each other in a silent sort of comradery, not speaking but having each others backs. JV was ruthless, after all.
Then, one very normal Thursday in the middle of March, Lottie heard about a terrible accident in the trailer park. Jackie had called her late that night, sounding genuinely shocked and appalled when she told Lottie that “Nat’s dad was dead” and that “he blew his brains out Lottie, oh my god-“ and “Mari said that someone told her Nat had done it.” Lottie knew, in her bones, that Natalie hadn’t done it. Fucking obviously. She sent flowers to the house and expected to not see Nat in school or at practice for at least the rest of the year, and she didn’t see her the next day. But come Monday, there was Natalie, sitting on the bench in the locker room and string at her feet. It was an hour before practice was meant to start, Lottie only being there due to a gut feeling that she had to be, despite having no evidence. That is, until she saw Natalie. Lottie didn’t speak at first, offering Nat a shred of normalcy in this unspoken connection between them, but Nat had let out a shaky breath and turned to look at Lottie. She had sucked in a breath at Nat’s bloodshot and sunken eyes as she stared into Lottie’s own.
“I didn’t kill him,” she had said to Lottie, and Lottie abandoned her duffel so she could sit down cautiously next to the other girl. In a move so out of character it caused Lottie to hold her breath lest she disrupt this moment, Natalie slumped into Lotties side, head resting heavily on Lottie’s shoulder.
“I know,” Lottie whispered, and the silence resumed. She could feel a warm wetness seeping into the shoulder of her team t-shirt, and realized that Nat was literally using has as a shoulder to cry on. Lottie had wrapped her arms around Nat’s body then, turning to pull her into her chest, and instantly chest-wracking sobs had taken over Nat’s pale frame. Lottie shushed her gently and rubbed her hand softly across the back of Nat’s head and her back, respectively. Natalie had cried into Lottie for thirty minutes before it slowed, and Lottie offered to take Nat home (have her driver take her, they were 14, then), and Nat had mumbled something about ‘can’t go back there’ into Lottie’s now-wet chest, following it up with a sniffle and a ‘wanna just kick something.’ And so they practiced. The girls had kept a distance from Nat that day, and the following week. Nat played hard, if not incredibly out of it, and when Lottie pulled her into her car after practice and then subsequently, into her house, her bedroom, and her bed for a sleepover, Nat hadn’t protested. If she noticed that Lottie’s parents had made an appearance for the three nights she spent, or the pills Lottie took each morning, she didn’t mention it. When Nat stood up on a bench in the locker room at two weeks later, announcing to both JV and the upperclassmen that “she did NOT kill her dad,” and “she wasn’t going to break like fucking glass, Jesus Christ,” everything shifted back to normal a little. Except now, it came with real, serious friendship between Nat and the girls, and some form of bond soaring past friendship between her and Lottie.
So they have this bond, Nat has lottie’s hoodie, and everything is so unnecessarily uncomfortable right now that it’s making Lottie’s skin ache.
“I’m sorry,” Lottie blurts out. She doesn’t want to fight with Nat, she wants this over with. They don’t fight, that’s Jackie and Shauna’s style. She knows they can reach a conclusion here, it shouldn’t be that hard. Natalie will have to accept her friendship, she’s done it before, and that will be that. If Lottie can’t have Nat the way she wants her, which right now includes not sitting so far away, and receptive of Lottie’s attempts to both woo and spoil her, then she’ll have to accept Lottie's friendship, as she has for the past four years.
“I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Nat,” she says, staring at the side of Natalie’s face. Nat's eyes are closed, and if she didn’t know her better, Lottie would say she wasn’t listening. The clench of her jaw gives her away, though. “But I am your friend. I’ve been your friend. You can tell me what’s actually going on, you don’t need to blow up at me, just for inviting you somewhere.”
Lottie knows she’s pushing. In the time between the hoodie, the dead-dad sleepovers, and this fight they’re having, things have altered between them. They’ve grown closer, they’ve been there for each other through any myriad of awful and wonderful teenage experiences, and through it has grown a tension. Usually, Lottie ignores it, assuming Nat doesn’t feel it or is also ignoring it. It’s hard to ignore though, the pleasant thrum of her heart when her and natalie scrap during practices, the slight flush taking over her cheeks when she catches Natalie peeling off her shirt that had previously been plastered to her milk-white skin with sweat, the skip of her heart when Natalie smiles at her, or when she bleached her hair that first time, grinning at Lottie across the school parking lot when she caught the starstruck expression of the taller girls face. Lottie knows okay, she knows what’s going on. She knows that she’s pushing Nat to admit it, to own up to this thing between them so she doesn’t have to, like a coward.
In the present, Natalie opens her eyes and turns to look at Lottie, confusion evident in the curve of her brow.
“You’re a great friend Lottie. You just shouldn’t be, with me.” Natalie says jaggedly, the words fitting together awkwardly, not feeling right on her tongue or in Lottie’s ears. It’s not that Lottie invited her somewhere, of course it’s not. It’s that she had invited Nat to take the extra ticket she had for summer vacation, it’s that that ticket usually went to Laura lee, it’s that Natalie couldn’t afford to pay her back ever, even if she did find a job in Wiskayok. She felt like charity work, even though she knew Lottie didn’t mean it that way. It was hard, though, to feel like charity work for the girl that you have a crush on. Not a crush, but something else. Whatever.
“Oh,” Lottie manages, making to stand, “right. Well, okay.”
Lottie’s face is coloured with rejection, tears dancing immediately at the corners of her eyes. Nat didn’t want to be her friend, like at all? Despite knowing that Natalie is lying, she’s hurt regardless. It’s a blow to her heart at point blank. Natalie’s hand snaps out and grabs her wrist, and Lottie sits back down immediately. Nat sighs, again, and screws her eyes shut, again.
“You’re giving up things for me, Lot.” Nat’s voice is strained, like this aspect of the conversation is the lowest hanging fruit she can manage. Relevant, yes. Important to talk about, sure. But the crux of the matter at hand? No, probably not. That lies somewhere else.
Lottie slides her hand out of Nat’s grip and moves to intertwine her fingers with the blonde girl’s, but Natalie pulls away, making Lottie frown. The expression etched into Nat’s face lets Lottie know that this repeated rejection thing is hurting her, too. She wishes she had the courage to bring up the actual issue, this electric undercurrent of feelings that’s in the process of drowning them both. She doesn’t.
“Natalie.” Lottie says, willing the smaller girl to open her eyes, “What on earth am I giving up for you?”
Natalie does open her eyes, then, but all Lottie can see is anger flashing in them, making her wilt a little. Okay so although it’s not the main issue, this clearly is striking a nerve with Natalie anyways.
“Look where you are, Lottie!” Nat’s voice is louder now, she’s almost yelling again, but she immediately deflates, fire in her eyes burning out at Lottie’s inwardly-turned posture,“You just won states for fucks sake, you should be with your team.”
Lottie doesn’t miss the way Natalie leaves herself out of that equation. She doesn’t point it out, either. This isn’t about that, which they can and will talk about later, when Natalie agrees to be her friend again. Nat did that a lot in their sophomore year, Lottie remembers. She had discovered drugs, Kevyn Tan, and self-depreciating language all in one go, and became equally addicted to all three, much to everyone's displeasure. It had taken Jackie and Taissa’s influence to work the pattern of speech out of her, in the end. Lottie was there to listen to Nat bitching about the two girls who had taken it upon themselves to harangue Natalie with a series of placating phrases such as “Nat, you are one of us” or “don’t say that Natalie, this is your team, too” until Nat had given it up. She never did shake the Kevyn Tan of it all, nor the drugs.
“You spend your money on me, you spend your time with me, you fought with Taissa for me the other day, you were gon’na ditch Laura lee, for me, you gave up the fucking bed, Lottie.”
It’s Lottie’s turn to sigh now, cheeks tinted with red. Maybe she was acting too friendly, too girlfriendy, maybe she was making Nat uncomfortable. But, she was like this with the whole team. She had been like that with Natalie since they became friends. The senseless things Nat had listed almost make Lottie roll her eyes. It’s so painfully clear that they aren’t fighting about this, Nat has misplaced her righteous indignation. She doesn’t say anything. Granted, she wasn’t nursing a crush on the whole team either, so maybe there’s some sense behind the blonde’s words, but Natalie didn’t know that, did she? Lottie doesn’t respond right away, but Natalie doesn’t continue. She doesn’t look away though either, her eyes boring into Lottie’s collarbone instead of holding eye contact.
“Because you’re my friend,” Lottie says quietly, not really wanting to rehash the same fight from earlier that had her storming out. It’s pointless, and they’re going to end up hurting each other over something that doesn’t matter, not really. Still, she isn’t above been petty.
“Do you not want to be my friend? is that what this is?” Lottie says, and it sounds ridiculous even as she hears herself say it. She knows she’s fishing, but she’s desperate, she’s just a teenage girl, and she feels like she’s standing on the precipice of a stark rejection. Not of her friendship, but of something else. Can she be rejected for something that they don;t even verbally acknowledge? Lottie doesn’t know.
Lottie’s words, obviously spoken as falsely self-pitying bait, wiggle under Nat’s skin anyways and work to stoke her building anger. She’s always so angry, she hates it about herself, which only make her angrier. She knows Lottie’s fishing for reassurance, the taller girl isn’t even trying to hide it. Nat is usually fast and first to give Lottie whatever it is she needs, but red hot anger licks behind her teeth and she lashes out before thinking, words spitting from her like a whip that snaps across Lottie’s face.
“I can’t be your friend Lottie” Nat grits out, tone hardened, and she looks away. Lottie lets out a sigh and actually does roll her eyes this time, but Nat doesn’t see her so it doesn’t matter. Finally, confirmation of what she already knows: that there’s something else here, something distinctly more primal and alive than friendship. A predatory grin fights to break out onto Lotties features. Now, this is fun, and they can verbally spar about this as much as Nat wants. Acknowledging it in this round about way means it’s real, and it being real means they can go somewhere form here instead of the directionless floundering they had been engaging in earlier. This fake anger feels like teasing almost, even though she can tell Nat is struggling with it. Lottie can feel the rapidly approaching resolution on its way, she can feel it in her bones and in the air around them that there is nothing to worry about here.
“Natalie,” Lottie says as she stands up to be directly in front of Nat, who finally shifts off of her hands to look up at the brunette. Nat has to look up at Lottie even when she’s wearing her doc martens, so now Lottie towers over her, forcing Nat to uncomfortably tilt her neck up. She does it though, because Lottie never calls her Natalie. Ever since Nat signed off the first sticky note as just Nat, the only Yellowjacket to ever call her Natalie was coach Martinez.
“Can you at least look at me while you’re being a bitch?” Lottie spits the last word out, mimicking the tone Natalie used when she said ‘friend.’ It’s redundant, because Nat is already looking at her, but it makes the impact Lottie is obviously intending.
Something has shifted, nat can feel it. It’s in Lottie’s now semi-casual posture, it’s in her still hands, no longer fidgeting with nerves, it’s in the mean but playful lilt to Lottie’s tone. She omitted something earlier, Nat knows. She exposed the depth and intent behind her feelings towards Lottie, at least minutely. Lottie hadn’t ran away screaming, though. She hadn’t called Nata faggot or laughed in her face, she hadn’t asked ‘what’s that supposed to mean?’ Because Lottie knows what’s going on. Nat should’ve realized it, she thinks with a small amount of defeat. Lottie knows everything, especially about Nat. Nat thought she knew everything about Lottie, too, but in her self-directed frustration she seemed to have missed the very crucial piece of information: this feeling is mutual, it’s reciprocated.
Nat stands, eyes level with Lottie’s breastbone. The air is heavy, a metaphor that Lottie had not previously understood. How can the weight of air change due to the people in the room, due to the relationship between them? But here she is, standing in a room filled with heavy air, weight added because now, there’s a flash of understanding in Natalie’s eyes, like maybe they’re on the same page, or close to it. Most of Lottie’s bravado had dissipated and been instantly replaced by excited flutters in her gut. Nat was closer to her now, closer than Lottie can remember ever being. They’re sharing air, Nat’s next exhale shattering across Lottie’s olive skin, and her eyes flick shut at the sensation. And then.
Oh.
Oh.
Lottie’s thoughts are shut off by gentle lips pressed on hers, trembling slightly but not moving, they taste like spearmint and faintly of cigarettes, and the taste of wet salt is filling her mouth. Natalie Scatorccio is kissing her, and is also crying. And before Lottie can accept this as a very real something that is tangibly happening, or even kiss her back, touch her waist, her arm, her face, something, Natalie’s lips are gone. And when Lottie opens her eyes, Natalie isn’t even in the room. For a moment, Lottie thinks she made it up, but her lips still tingle where they were gently pressed to Natalie’s, and the bed is still dented where they were sitting, and Lottie trusts her brain, just this once. Nat had kissed her, and so everything was fine, even great, or would be, soon.
Natalie is standing up against the wall of the hallway just outside her hotel room, and tears that she cannot fucking stop no matter how hard she tries and leaking down her checks at a speed she hadn’t known was fucking possible. Fuck, Fuck, fuck. Nat knows there’s something going on here, that this fight maybe wasn’t about Lottie’s generosity but about Nat’s inability to be just Lottie’s friend when she aches for more. Normally, this ache is as easily ignored as a bruise by her father’s hands or a teacher asking her where her homework was. But Lottie had been right in front of her, and had been goading Nat into movement, and the ache marched into a beat in an instant, and then she was kissing Lottie. And crying, which she couldn’t explain. And Lottie wasn’t kissing her back. She can see Lotties face in her mind, disgusted, telling Natalie that she’s so not into girls, especially lost causes like Natalie, even though she doesn’t think Lottie would actually do that. But she might, and that left Nat’s stomach feeling like she was in an active free fall. But then Lottie’s face is actually right in front of her, looking more concerned than anything. Lottie’s here, in Nat’s hallway of refuge. Fuck. Nat scrubs at her eyes aggressively, feeling defensive already.
“I’m sorry,” she gets out gruffly, but then Lottie is pinning her to the wall, and her hands are pressing into Natalie’s waist, and their foreheads are touching. They’re sharing air again, and Lottie’s face is carefully arranged into a farce of neutrality, which Nat knows is fake due to the bruising grip that taller girl is employing to keep Nat flush against the gauche wallpaper. Natalie’s breaths shorten to quick pants, her head is swimming with thoughts moving so rapidly and in no particular pattern that she can’t seem to grab ahold of anything solid, and Lottie’s eyes are shut. Time stretches out, and Natalie tries to say something, squirming a little under Lottie’s unmoving hands.
“You can’t be my friend?” Lottie says, but it comes out rhetorically, and with bite. She takes one hand off of Nat’s waist to wipe her tear stained cheek, and whatever Natalie was going to say dies in her throat. Time stretches out again, and Natalie’s breathing will not return to normal, and Lottie doesn’t open her eyes. Natalie can feel Lottie’s hands burning prints into her sides through Lotties hoodie that she is still wearing, and fuck. She doesn’t say anything. They’re frozen, immobile for a moment, captured immortal in time. Hunter and hunted, predator and pray, god and devotee, pinner and the pinned, Lottie and Natalie.
“Can I kiss you?” Lottie asks quietly, and Nat is nodding before Lottie can even finish.
“Nat, I need you to say it, because if this is what we’re doing, this is it for me. You can’t take it back, okay?” Lottie says, eyes open now and staring into Natalie's own wet eyes with a look of complete seriousness. Nat thinks for a moment that there’s a level to this that she isn’t aware of, but Lottie has always been this way. Intense. Lottie knows it’s unfair to make Natalie decide this right now, and then tell her she can’t take it back, but fuck. Natalie hasn’t been fair to her this whole trip. Still, it’s not right to force Natalie to decide explicitly about this relationship they’re sharing, but Lottie can’t find it in her to regret it. She means it, Natalie will be it for her, forever. She just knows, in that way that sometimes she knows things. The sun will rise, the Yellowjackets will win nationals, Natalie will be her first and her last everything.
Natalie is sure that Lottie can feel her pulse thrumming hard and quick, right under her pale skin. It’s rushing like it needs to get out, Lottie’s face, her warmth, her hands, her words, chasing Nat’s blood until it all escapes her and pours onto the floor, leaving her empty. A shell for Lottie to fill. She’s already that for Lottie, nothing but a reverent member of Lottie’s basilica, a devotee to the prodigal daughter. If Lottie is already holding her heart, how is it possible that her blood is pumping so fast? Her blood may only pump if Lottie wills it to, Natalie thinks a bit deliriously. It takes her a minute to find her voice, and when she finally does, it’s scratchy and desperate and coated in a sticky substance that makes her sick to her stomach when she hears it. It’s sweet like honey but Natalie knows it’s blood. Her lifeforce, exposed to Lottie as clearly and reverently as it always has been.
“Lottie, if this is what you want,” she starts, taking a deep breath and willing herself to sound somewhat put together. Lottie feels her ribs rattle under her grip with the effort it’s taking to compose herself anyways.
“I want it too,” Natalie breathes out, and a soft grin slides over Lottie’s face. The tension leaks out of the air, and there’s happiness in this. They don’t have to be tortured in this, they have enough of that. It can be sweet and intense, like Lottie, hard shelled and biting like Natalie. It can be soft, in the way that they both are when it’s just them. It’s like staring into the sun, and Natalie has to smile back, but it’s shaky. There’s a hint of something else in lottie’s expression. It’s hunger, Nat recognizes the yearning to consume in the pits of Lottie’s eyes because she sees it so often in her own reflection. If Lottie wants Natalie to give herself over at Lottie's altar, to present her neck in submission, then she will. She wants to, to give and give and give until she’s all consumed by Lottie, wants to be absorbed into her power, her smile, her fire.
“I want you, Lot,” she says, but Lottie is already sliding their mouths together. Natalie is warm and soft and hesitant against her lips, she tastes like a sharp melody, and Lottie squeezes her hands harder on her waist, pulling her closer gently with a bruising grip. For as much reverent want bubbling under their respective skins, they’re still girls. Their want it seated in inexperienced teenage bodies, and the smooth softness and head rush of kissing a girl that you really like (love) might as well exist on a different planet from the messy spit filled kisses with vaguely smelly boys of their youth.
Natalie huffs out through her nose and pulls back just a little, eyes wide and scanning Lottie’s face for something. She must find it, because when she pulls Lottie back in with a firm hand on the back of her neck, this next kiss is frenzied and quicker moving. There’s intent behind it, Natalie wants to pour her life force into Lottie’s. Wants Lottie to take it from her, it’s hers anyways. If Nat wants to give in this way, Lottie can take. She knows this is how Nat says “I trust you,” how she’s telling Lottie that she can have this part of Natalie too because she trusts her to take care of it. And she will. Nat did it first by crying into her in the locker room, she does it now with a tilt of her head and a deepening of the kiss.
Lottie immediately opens her mouth for Natalie, tongues sliding together, and Lottie leans into the blonde girl, pushing her more firmly into the wall. Natalie whines softly and Lottie feels it in her knees, her stomach, her heart. It peels her skin back and her muscles are on display, Natalie’s noises open her up and sting where they cleave into her.
Natalie tangles her hands in Lottie's long curls, and the blunt ends of her nails catch on Lotties scalp, causing Lottie to moan into the wet heat of their entangled mouths. Natalie has a brief thought that she must’ve fallen asleep sitting in the hallway because this can’t be real. Lottie can’t be real. She’s a dream, she’s a god, Natalie needs her and she hates her and she wants her. Lottie pulls away, panting, as if she can read Natalie's mind, and frowns immediately. Natalie thinks she’s done something wrong, fucked up her chance at this, but then Lottie is holding her face in both of her warm hands, and she wipes her thumbs across Nat’s cheeks. Fuck, she’s crying again. This is so overwhelming.
“Nat, baby, shh,” Lottie says softly, sounding worried, “You’re okay.”
Natalie heats up at the pet name, even though she’s heard Lottie call Laura Lee and Jackie the same thing. This is different though. It feels like an honorific the way it slips through Lottie’s kiss-stained lips. They just made out, and Lottie’s knee is still slotted in between Natalie’s legs, and Natalie had just yelled at her that they can’t be friends. Natalie turns her face into one of Lotties hands completely.
“M’ sorry Lot,” she mumbles against her palm, and Lottie smiles at her anyways. Natalie is sorry about a lot, but she doesn’t specify, so Lottie doesn’t ask. This new development means they have forever to talk about this stuff. She steps back from Natalie, leaving the shorter girl to feel the chill of her absence. Nat nearly whines at this, too, but Lottie takes her hand, and leads them back into the hotel room. Natalie plops her weight down onto the edge of the bed again, legs a little shaky, and Lottie stares at her, smile still on her face.
“What?” Natalie says, feeling embarrassed and all sorts of confused and honestly on the verge of panicking, because yes, her and Lottie just made out and Lottie had all but made Natalie swear her undying loyalty to her but. Still. Panic is a slide that Nat is familiar with slipping down, it comes easily to her. Lottie smiles wider, which causes Nat to smile without trying, her whirlwind thoughts pausing as they all settle on LottieLottieLottie.
“I like you, a lot,” Lottie says, and Natalie feels like they’re much too far apart at this moment, and too close, at the same time. She wants Lottie pressed up against her, she wants to touch her, she wants to be as far away from her as possible, because when this implodes it will be only Natalie’s blood and guts left behind, kneeling in front of Lottie and waiting to be blessed. It’s too intense, the air is hot and heavy, Natalie is too warm between her legs, and she can almost feel the embroidered “Matthews” branding her, burning into her skin right above the swell of her ass like a tramp stamp from Lottie’s hoodie that nat is now itching to get out of.
“I know you like me too, it’s alright,” Lottie says, huffing a laugh in her direction, and Nat realizes she hadn’t responded to the firstreal confession of the night. She blushes at this but Lottie keeps on smiling at Nat like they’re still best friends and like nothing has changed, as if Nat can’t feel the Earth shifting on its axis right now as they speak, and she might just tilt over and fall off.
“I’m gonna shower, okay? Don’t go too far” Lottie’s smile has turned teasing, and Nat feels relief hit her like a tidal wave. The Earth rightens itself slightly, and Natalie can breathe again. Lottie always knows what they need, what Natalie needs. Right now it’s a moment of space, with the reassurance that Lottie is coming back and they haven’t changed, not too much. Laughing with Lottie, teasing her, that’s familiar. It’s second nature, it’s written implicitly into her coding.
“Aw without me?” Natalie coos in a patronizing voice, and it’s Lottie’s turn to flush a little. Natalie had seemed almost cantonic, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring into the wall like it was a moving picture. Lottie smiles again (she can not seem to stop smiling) at her ability to bring Nat out of it. Obviously they need to talk more. Obviously. But if she doesn’t get away from Nat now and cool off, she’s worried her ability to control herself will slip.
“Yes without you, asshole,” she laughs despite her flush, and turns to go into the bathroom. Lottie hears Natalie laugh behind her, and Lottie’s heart squeezes at the noise. As soon as the bathroom door closes, Lottie leans her forehead against it and lets out a shaky breath.
If this is why Natalie can’t be her friend, if this is what’s causing the undercurrent of tension that Jackie keeps asking about whenever Lottie and Nat are in the same room, then good. She knew it was, but the monster they had been paralyzed by their fear of was actually a kind giant. Natalie shocked her, by kissing her in the room, even if Lottie had known that something was going to happen, even if she didn’t know what. Lottie can’t say she shocked herself with her actions in the hall, because she’s spent many a night with her hands haphazardly shoved into her jeans thinking about Natalie, her dimpled smile, her shaggy hair, the way she always smells like cedar and spearmint and cigarettes, her chest heaving under her soccer jersey, her in Lottie’s hoodie.
Natalie surprised her again though in the hall, the way she opened herself to Lottie. Her heaving chest pressed up against Lottie’s own, the way Lottie could feel Nat pouring herself into her, giving her everything without Lottie even having to ask. Lottie is squirming now, and turns to look at herself in the mirror. A blush has made its way down over her chest, and her lips are near bruised, hair mussed from Natalie’s hands and her eyes are wild. She smiles, but shakes her head at herself. She’ll never be able to have a conversation with Nat like this. And they need to, so she turns on the shower and wills her brain to focus on something else, like shampooing her hair.
Eventually, Natalie scoots up against the pillows from the edge of the bed, and continues to will herself out of a panic attack. It’s not working very well, and her eyes have welled up with tears, which is making her feel stupid, which makes her want to cry even more. What if Lottie comes out here and tells Natalie that she’s sweet, but Lottie is straight, or that Nat is too much trouble? She won't do that Natalie reasons with herself, she literally said that this was ‘it’ for her. Lottie will come out here, and they’ll talk about what this means, and then maybe tonight they’ll share the bed instead of Lottie insisting she take the floor. All of the other girls share beds, so that was ridiculous anyways. Nat’s ability to freak herself out astounds even her own mind, and she schools it into submission. She trusts Lottie, she always has. That’s what this is, another exchange of trust. And spit.
When Lottie does come out of the bathroom, Natalie is standing right by the bathroom door, digging through her suitcase. She stands up straight and spins to Lottie, whatever was in her hand dropping back into her suitcase forgotten in the wake of Lottie’s return.
“Hi,” Lottie breathes out, feeling a little relieved that Nat didn’t leave again.
“Lot,” Natalie whispers, and Lottie just can’t help herself, okay? She reaches for Nat with one long step forward and hooks an arm around her waist, capturing the girls lips with her own. Natalie squeals a completely not Natalie-like noise, but kisses Lottie back without any fight. Not that Lottie expected one.
Natalie’s mouth is wet and hot under Lottie’s tongue, and she’s pulling Lottie deeper into her with both hands on the back of her neck. Lottie slips her hands under Nat’s sweater, her sweater, and the thought makes a shiver go down her spine. Her sweater on Natalie, her Natalie. Nat’s skin is soft, and Lottie can feel goosebumps erupt under her touch. The heavy gasp Natalie lets out when Lottie’s hands make purchase on her hips causes Lottie to pull away just to look at Natalie’s face. She’s looking at Lottie like Lottie has hung the moon in the sky herself, like she can’t believe Lottie is here.
Natalie presses her forehead to Lottie’s, lips so close that they’re sharing air, again. Lottie slides her hands slowly up Nat’s ribcage, sweeping her thumbs under Nat’s tits, and when she learns Nat isn’t wearing a bra she groans into her mouth, kissing her again. Natalie whines into the kiss without trying, and Lottie pulls away again.
“I was hoping we would talk again,” she whispers in a tone of voice Natalie realizes she hasn’t heard from Lottie before. She’s heard every lilt of Lottie’s voice, every emotion-infused cadence, but not this. She grins, knowing that Lottie is displaying all the self-control she can right now, and that this is Lottie’s voice turned on. So Nat cuts her a break. Lottie wants to talk, so talk they will.
“Yeah, okay,” Natalie responds, noting a heavy lilt to her own voice before backing away to sit on the bed again. Lottie doesn’t follow her right away, and Nat flicks her eyes over Lottie’s frame. She’s in her pajamas again, long tan legs on display, and her hair is dripping onto the front of her shirt. She’s glowing, she’s perfect, its Lottie. Nat smiles at her, and Lottie walks past Nat to sit up against the pillows with her knees bent and wet hair on the pillows.
Natalie pulls her legs half under herself and turns to face Lottie, grumbling dramatically about getting her pillows wet, and Lottie laughs, and the tensions seeps out of the room as if a window had been opened all of a sudden.
“I like you, Nat,” Lottie says for the second time, softly, hunting out Natalie’s eyes with her own as her hands fidget in her lap.
“Lot, I love you,” Natalie rushes out when they do make eye contact, and she immediately turns a bright red. It’s obvious to Lottie that Natalie did not mean to say that, to let so much slip out all in one go, but it does anyways, slip out, and the words float between them. She knows Nat is overwhelmed, and that’s why, but Lottie’s lips part slightly at the admission regardless. And, well, how are they supposed to talk about anything now?
“C’mere,” Lottie says, grabbing for Nat and pulling the blonde girl to climb into her lap. Natalie hovers over her a little, finding balance by grabbing Lottie’s shoulders. Her skin heats up, and she thanks god that Lottie hasn’t run yet. She’s so stupid, just all of sudden telling Lottie she loves her. Stupid stupid stupid. It’s the truth, it’s been the truth since she first met her, since the hoodie and the brunette’s toothy smile, and it’s been more true every day, but still.
Lottie grabs harshly at Natalie’s hips, pulling her down into her lap and forcing a puff of air out of the blonde girl’s mouth. She attaches her lips to Nat’s neck, kissing gently but then biting down when Nat starts to whine and tangles her fingers into Lottie’s hair.
“I love you,” Lottie mumbles into Nat’s neck, not slowing her assault of kisses, sucking harshly now and then licking softly to soothe the love bite.
“What?” Natalie says, heart thundering in her chest like a train speeding down the rail. She’s about to go headfirst into something and god she wants it to be a soft landing. Lottie’s mouth is burning a hot streak across her clavicle and her words are like pickaxes on her heart, tearing it apart and making space for them, for Lottie.
“I love you, Nat,” Lottie whispers into her ear this time, punctuating it with a nip of teeth on her earlobe, and Natalie is helpless against the soft moan that leaves her lips. She’s slipping into nothing but want, she wants Lottie, she needs her.
Lottie slips her hands under the hoodie again, grabbing Nat roughly and pulling her flush against Lottie’s front. Natalie keeps making these breathy moans, and Lottie can tell they’re just slipping out of her mouth without trying. She’s warm and soft and so pliant under Lottie’s touch, and Lottie just wants her to feel good. She wants to touch every inch of Nat, to give her exactly what she needs, to have her say Lottie’s name in that breathy voice, to have it slip out like she just can’t help it up against Lottie’s ministrations. She wants to satiate Nat as if Nat’s been starving for months and Lottie is just a piece of meat, existing to make her full, happy, to keep her heart beating under her milk-white ribs, her soft skin.
The kiss gets messier, Natalie starts to rock her hips forwards without noticing. Lottie all but growls into her mouth, long nails raking up over the expanse of Nat’s back before sliding back down and finding a hold on her hips, guiding her hips to rock down harder. Nat moans and her hands twist deeper into Lottie’s hair, tugging. Lottie hisses and bites down on Nat’s bottom lip, and Natalie can taste metal in her mouth. Lottie’s canine must have punctured the skin, but the taste just sends more electricity straight to Nat’s core, and she pants against Lottie’s mouth.
“Lot, please,” Natalie huffs out, and the corners of Lottie’s mouth quirk up. Nat wants her, she can feel it in the tight grip in her hair, the way her breath rattles through her lungs heavily, the blissed out expression on her face, but mostly in the heat radiating into Lottie’s lap from Nat’s core. Bleeding lip ignored, then. Lottie promises herself to circle back to it later.
“Yeah baby, what is it?” Lottie says, rubbing a mindless circle into Nat’s lower back. She wants this to be hot and hard and good, but she wants Nat to feel loved, to feel safe with her.
“C’mon Lot,” Natalie says, her tone indicating an eye-roll even though her eyes never leave Lottie’s. Lottie fully grins at her now, glad that despite the reverence, the intensity that she knows she can bring to every possible situation sometimes, that Nat is still Nat.
“Okay, yeah,” Lottie huffs, but before she gets to continue with what Nat is getting at, Nat’s fingers start to shakily undo the bottoms on Lottie’s pajama top.
“Is this alright?” Nat asks, pausing for a moment, but Lottie nods right away. Lottie helps Nat push the shirt off of her shoulders, and then sucks in a sharp breath when she sees Natalie taking her in. The swell of her breasts is now exposed, and Lottie’s nipples tighten under Natalie’s gaze, and Nat’s breaths start to roll heavier when she notices. In an uncharacteristic moment of shyness, Lottie squirms.
“I’ve never been with anyone before,” Lottie says, “Um, like this,”
Natalie’s eyes soften, less lust and more love present there now.
“Lot, we don’t have to do this,” she says, even though she’s pretty sure Lottie knows that. Natalie thinks about telling Lottie that she’s also never been with a girl, Lottie knows she’s had sex with men, but that feels crass.
“I love you, Charlotte Matthews,” Lottie smiles, all teeth at Natalie, “and we do not have to have sex right now.” Lottie giggles, and Nat smiles back at her, and it’s just them. Lottie and Nat, teammates, best friends, and they’re in love.
“Natalie Scatorccio,” Lottie says, pulling Nat down to press a kiss onto her forehead. It’s silly, Lottie’s naked from the waist up, but Nat’s eyes get a little teary anyways. “I love you,” Lottie whispers against her head, “and I do very much want to have sex with you right now.”
Nat is smiling at Lottie all big and cheesy when she pulls back, and they’re kissing again. It’s soft, not as rushed as before. There’s love when their lips meet, there’s friendship, there’s reverence. All of it, all at once. Nat slides her hand down from Lotties neck and grazes her nipple with her soft fingertips, and Lottie arches up into her, groaning, and the kiss gets much more feverish, then. There’s the buzz of newness on their skin, exploratory touches and figuring out what’s right. Natalie continues to tweak Lottie’s nipples, squeezing her tit occasionally, and Lottie’s fingers dig into Nat’s hips as she rocks her hips up to meet the other girls and groans into Nat’s mouth. Nat’s skin is so hot, and she reaches for the hem of her hoodie but Lottie pulls back and grabs Nat’s wrist, stopping her from taking it off.
“Leave it on,” she pants, referring to her hoodie. This sends another shot of heat to Nat’s core, and she nods. Lottie’s gaze is heavy, her pupils blown out as she looks at Nat. The air between them is heady now, and Lottie reaches out and hooks her pointer finger into the waistband of Nat’s pajama pants, pulling it back and letting it snap onto her soft skin.
“These can go, though,” and in a flash Nat is scrambling off of Lottie’s lap and standing up from the bed, untying the string and pulling her pajama pants off. Lottie sits up, too, swinging her legs to the side of the bed and for a moment, they drink in the sight of each other. The air is so heavy, with lust and with love, and neither girl has it in them to be self conscious. Lottie is wearing pink cotton shorts, and her hair is tumbling down over her shoulder in tangles that Nat put there. Her tits sit at attention, and Nat can feel her mouth water a little. Natalie’s pale legs are on display, Lottie’s hoodie only hitting the very tops of the shorter girls thighs. The ends of her blonde mullet are curling, and Lottie finds herself glad she doesn’t have any makeup on. This is Natalie, this is her Nat, pajama pants pooled unceremoniously at her feet and all.
Lottie smiles at Nat, a little dazed and a lot in love, prompting Nat to walk over in her direction, standing right in front of her. Lottie lays her hands on Nat’s hips and spins her around quickly, so she’s facing the wall.
“Hey!” Nat sputters, “What-“
“I like my name on you,” Lottie cuts her off, her voice coming out raspier than she thought it would. It’s true though, looking at Matthews plastered above Natalie’s ass is causing Lottie’s brain to short circuit. She knows she’s being a little possessive, foolishly so, but something about it. Nat is hers. She see’s Nat’s shoulders shake in a laugh. Natalie turns around in Lottie’s grip, slinging her arms around Lotties neck and smiling down at her. There’s a moment where neither girl moves.
“Can we,” Natalie clears her throat with a giggle, “Can we get back on the bed?”
Lottie releases Nat to shuffle back against the pillows again, waiting. Nat climbs back into her lap and instantly attaches her lips to Lottie’s. This time, when Lottie rocks her hips up into Natalies, Nat lets out a shockingly loud moan. Without her pajama pants in the way, the sensation of Lottie’s clothed sex on her own is so much stronger. Lottie slides her hand down from Natalie’s ribcage, nails scraping across her stomach and navel as she goes, stopping at the band of Natalies underwear.
“Can I?” she pulls back to whisper, and Natalie nods feverishly, sealing their lips together again. Lottie reaches her hand down to cover Natalie’s cunt over her panties, shucking the hoodie up over her wrist so she can see. Nat is wearing red cotton panties, and Lottie can see a wet spot forming in their center, making her breath catch in her throat. Nat pulls away from the kiss, rocking her hips to find friction on Lottie’s cupped hand.
“Lot please,” Natalie whines, and Lottie concedes, pushing the heel of her palm into Natalie, and the blonde girl's hips stutter.
“You’re gonna have to tell me what feels good, okay baby?” Lottie breaths out, trying not to let her inexperience get the better of her confidence. Her excited nerves are making her feel a little starstruck as she stares at the girl in front of her. She wants to touch Natalie, her hands are aching for it. She needs to make Natalie feel good, to fall apart under her hands and then be put back together. She just needs some guidance, is all.
“Yeah, Lot,” Natalie whines again, “promise.”
Satisfied with this, Lottie moves to pull Natalie’s underwear down over her legs. She pouts when she realizes that, well, with Nat in her lap she can’t exactly pull them down, so she settles with pulling them to the side. Natalie moans at this, and Lottie reaches her middle finger towards the hot center of Nat’s cunt, groaning at the pool of wetness she finds.
“Pretty girl,” Lottie says, feeling a bit delirious at the feeling of silk under her fingers, “you’re so wet.”
Nat moans, head falling into the crook of Lottie’s neck, pressing kisses into her tan skin. Lottie’s skin is on fire, and she wants to lose herself in the feeling of Nat’s mouth on her, but she’s on a mission.
“You make me crazy, Lot,” Natalie tells Lottie’s shoulder, and Lottie’s fingertips find Natalie’s clit. An electric current zips up Natalie’s spine and she puffs out a soft moan.
“Lottie, right there,” she moans, and Lottie smiles into Nat’s hair, ridiculously proud of herself. Lottie’s fingers glide back and forth over Nat’s little bundle of nerves, and Natalie's hips buck into Lottie’s hand, teeth sinking into Lottie’s neck. Lottie hisses, but Nat’s tongue smooths the bite.
“M’sorry,” Nat whispers, pulling out of Lottie’s neck, hands gripping the shoulders of the girl below her instead. Lottie’s fingers dip down to Natalie’s entrance and Nat whines again, wiggling her hips a little and pushing her body downwards as if she’ll be able to just suck Lottie’s fingers in.
“Shh baby don’t be sorry,” Lottie says, sitting up a little and jostling Nat around a little. Natalie lets out a breathy laugh, and Lottie smiles. The laugh turns into a moan when Lottie inches the very tip of her fingers into Nat’s hole, now thoroughly coated in her wetness. A string of pleases leave Nat’s lips, and it doesn’t cross her mind that she sounds so desperate right now. Lottie’s gaze is reverent, plush lips wet and parted and she watches her middle finger disappear into Natalie.
“Let me know if it’s okay,” she says, but she keeps staring at where they’re connected. Nat doesn’t answer, only moans softly when Lottie starts to slide her finger in and out slowly. Natalie finds it in her to untangle a hand from Lottie’s hair and pinch lightly at her nipple, rolling it between her fingers. Lottie moans, her fist clenching involuntarily, causing her middle finger to curl inside of Natalie.
“Fuck,” Natalie huffs, “Like that Lot,” and Lottie continues to curl her finger inside of Nat, pushing up against the spongy spot inside of her. They rock into each other like that for a while, Lottie unable to help herself from grinding up against the knuckles of her own hand, the same one that’s pushed into Natalie. The room is full of the sounds of Lottie’s hushed reassurances, and Nat’s heavy breaths, only cut up by her moans. This is heaven, Lottie thinks.
“Another one?” Lottie says, mouth against Natalie’s neck, and Nat lets out a squeak of confusion, hand yanking Lottie’s hair to keep her mouth where it is, sucking reckless hickies into her neck. Lottie pulls back anyways, finding Natalie’s eyes and slowing her pace. Nat’s wide eyes are glazed over in pleasure, and Lottie knows that she is just having trouble understanding, in the heat of it all.
“Can you take another finger baby?” Lottie asks, and Natalie pushes herself further down onto Lottie’s hand, nodding. Lottie is so casual with the pet name, it’s working to make Nat much wetter as she clenches around Lottie’s digits. Lottie slides her finger out, and when she pushes back in, it’s joined with her ring finger, too. Lottie can’t help herself but moan at the feeling of Nat’s smooth walls squeezing her.
“You’re so tight Nat,” Lottie whispers into Nat’s neck, and Nat whines in response, a string of curses spilling from her lips when Lottie curls her fingers again. Natalie starts raising her hips slightly before sitting back into Lottie, meeting her every thrust. Natalie’s hands find purchase in Lottie’s hair at the nape of her neck, and she bows forward, hips stuttering as she tucks herself into Lottie’s neck. Lottie slides her free hand around Nat’s waist, pulling her to be flush against her front.
“M’close Lot,” Nat mumbles, and Lottie flushes, her skin hot against Natalie. Her ego is fighting with her lust, beyond proud of herself for getting Nat to open herself to Lottie like this, and wanting to stay in this position, Nat on top of her and taking her fingers so well that she doesn’t really know how to act. She’s so grateful in this moment, to see Nat like this, to have her trust in respects to her body, her needs, and her heart, too.
“I got you Nat,” she whispers into the blonde tucked against her, “I’m here baby, I want you to finish, okay?” Lottie’s voice is raspy and soft, and Natalie only whines in response, breath coming hard and fast and the rhythm of her hips start to falter a little. Natalie is completely surrounded by Lottie; it smells like her shampoo and something so Charlotte Matthews where Nat’s nose is pressed to the other girl’s neck, she can feel Lotties tits pressed into her own through her sweater, Lotties arm is circling her waist, nails biting into her skin and keeping her in place. She’s pulling Nat apart with her fingers, Lottie’s long and careful ones outmatching Nat’s own small hands or those of any careless guy by a mile.
Lottie doesn’t change anything she’s doing, just turns to mouth at Nat’s temple, placing sweet kisses into her forehead and mumbling a series of i love you’s and cmon nat’s and give it to me baby please’s until Nat’s hips are stuttering, and she’s whining louder than is maybe appropriate in this hotel room, and she arches her back forcefully into Lottie’s front, coming apart completely on her fingers. Lottie feels Nat gush and squeeze around her and has to hold back from groaning wantonly at the feeling.
Lottie keeps thrusting her fingers into Nat, helping her ride out her orgasm until Nat snakes her own hand in between their heated bodies and clumsily pushes Lottie’s wrist to get her to stop. Lottie haphazardly wipes her hand in the bed without looking and then moves it up to cradle Nat’s head where it rests against her shoulder. The shorter girl is bonelessly slumped into Lottie’s frame, panting into her neck.
“Good job baby,” Lottie whispers, fingers carding through Nat’s hair and rubbing soothing circles into the soft skin of her waist. Natalie pulls back just enough to see Lottie’s face, and her breath catches at the look of pure love and vulnerability there. She blushes, which she absentmindedly notes is stupid, because Lottie just made her cum on her hand, but it’s the adoration etched into Lottie’s features that causes Nat’s face to heat up. She leans up to kiss her, and it’s soft and sweet and maybe this is what it means to let herself be open with someone else. With Lottie. When Lottie breaks the kiss Nat immediately shoves her face back into Lottie’s neck, and she can feel more than she hears Lottie laugh at her.
“That was crazy Lot,” she mumbles into Lottie’s neck, and Lottie laughs again, still rubbing circles into Natalie’s skin.
“‘Was good?” Lottie asks, and Nat pulls back to roll her eyes playfully at the brunette. Lottie is grinning widely, canine teeth on display, and Nat knows that Lottie knows it was good. Natalie feels her chest ache a little, looking at Lottie’s blown out pupils and wide grin, and she’s so in love. Tears prick at her eyes, again, and she wraps her arms around lottie and pulls her into a bear hug.
Lottie lets out an ‘oomf’ when her body collides with Natalie’s, but she just squeezes her tighter. Nat doesn’t feel like she’s going to cry, saved from her tears now that she can’t see Lottie’s face anymore, and she sighs.
“You okay?” she whispers into Lottie’s hair, and Lottie squeezes her tighter.
“Of course,” she replies, “Are you okay Nat?”
Natalie takes stock. In love with her best friend? Yes. That love is reciprocated? Well, Lottie says so. Orgasmed in said best friend's lap because of her? Also yes. So yeah, she’s okay.
“Yeah Lot, I’m good,” Nat says, pulling back and pressing an obnoxiously loud kiss to Lottie’s forehead, causing her to laugh. Natalie flops to the side with a smile on her face, bones tired. Lottie keeps giggling at her, making Nat smile wider.
“Hey, shouldn’t you like, go pee?” Lottie asks, driving a finger into Nat’s ribcage making her twist away in protest. She groans dramatically and stands up, huffing about not being allowed to bathe in her post-coital bliss. When she gets back, Lottie is lying on the bed, flipping through the channels on the small television.
“Lot,” Natalie starts from the doorway of the bathroom, getting the other girl’s attention. She smiles.
“Shouldn’t you put a shirt on before the team gets back?” Nat says, a cheeky smile on her face as she heads over to the bed, pulling the blankets down. Nat would normally have zero complaints about Lottie laying in a bed that they are most definitely sharing tonight, shirt off and smiling at Nat the same way she always has, but how confusing for their friends to come back to her and lottie like this after the screaming match they had overheard earlier.
“You don’t want them to know what we just did?” Lottie asks, mostly kidding, as she helps Nat get them under the covers. They settle, lid down facing each other. Lottie is biting her lip, and Nat knows that she kind of meant it.
“They’re gonna know anyways Lot,” Nat says, scooting closer to Lottie, and Lottie pulls her in to rest her head on the taller girl’s chest. Nat pulls down the neck of her hoodie when Lottie doesn’t respond, putting the quickly darkening love bites Lottie had sucked into her neck on display.
“Oh shit,” Lottie breathes out, a tentative hand coming up to brush along the marks. She’s a little obsessed with them, she thinks to herself. Natalie is hers and the whole world is going to see it. The team, the kids at school, the girls on the other team that look at Nat like she’s a piece of meat, that guy Kevyn that Nat is always with.
“Is that like, okay?” Natalie asks, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant. Lottie moves her eyes from Nat’s neck to her face, and sees that Nat is sporting her ‘I care so much that I’m pretending not to’ face. She’s so herself, caring and callous in the same breath, that Lottie can’t help but kiss her for a moment.
“Of course it is,” Lottie says when she pulls back, pulling Nat close into her body and smiling at the ceiling, “I want people to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours, especially the team.” Nat hums and happy noise in response and burrows even closer to Lottie, slinging a bare leg up over her and shutting her eyes.
“So are we like, girlfriends?” Lottie asks after a few minutes have passed. She’s much less hesitant about it then Nat was, but she knows Lottie well enough to know that she’s nervous beneath her air of semi-nonchalance. They’re ridiculous, Nat thinks to herself, both of them pretending to be very cool about this as if they’re not completely enamoured by each other.
“Charlotte Matthews,” Natalie starts, a teasing lilt in her tone and she props herself up on her elbow to look down at Lottie’s face, “do you wanna be my girlfriend?” Lottie turns to fake a bite at Natalie's hand that had been resting on her collarbone, and Nat laughs.
“No,” she says, smiling, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
Nat laughs again, flopping back down to snuggle into the girl.
“Well yeah Lot, that’s how it works.”
“Well then yes.”
Lottie can tell when Nat has fallen asleep because her breaths slow and even out, but Lottie stays awake, running every second of the last few hours through her head like a highlight reel. Natalie Scatorccio loves her. And Lottie loves her right back. Lottie also lost her virginity, she thinks to herself, kind of. It counts in her heart.
Later, when Jackie busts into the room with Shauna in tow and sees Lottie and Nat tangled together in bed in varying states of undress and sleeping peacefully, there’s a bit less peace in the room. For now though, Lottie is happy, and Nat is happy, and they’re safe and they’re each others.