Work Text:
Ava starts to wake up and immediately realizes she’s not in her bed. Morning is just beginning to lighten the room, but before she can really look around and realize where she is, she becomes aware of someone’s arm thrown over her bare waist. As her sensory awareness continues to kick in, she notices that she seems to also be completely naked - not even underwear. What the hell? She’s barely awake, and now she’s freaking out, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knows she caught the panic too late and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. She can hear the rushed breaths coming out of her own mouth and feels her body shaking against the sheets. She’s flashing hot and cold and hot again. Fuck. She thinks she’s sweating, but she’s not even sure because she’s so out of her body. She hasn’t had a panic attack like this in years, and --
“Ava?” A voice startles her unhelpful internal thought spiral. She wants to roll onto her back towards the voice, but finds she’s frozen and her body isn’t listening to her commands. A fresh wave of panic shivers its way down her body.
Deborah rubs her face blearily and tries to parse what’s going on.
“Ava?” No response, again. She frowns and reaches across her own side of the bed to turn on a lamp. Now she can see Ava’s form quaking in the sheets. She softens.
“Ava, honey. Nightmare? It’s alright.” Ava shakes her head into the pillow.
“No,” she breathes out shakily. She tries again to convince her body to roll over. As she starts to move, she feels a hand on her shoulder trying to gently help roll her towards the voice. She jerks and curls in on herself even more. The hand retreats.
Deborah hums. “It’s just me, it’s Deborah,” she hears softly. “You’re alright, we’re just in my bed, and you seem to be panicking at this ungodly hour of the morning. You told me those gummies specifically were not the paranoia kind, and yet here we are.” Her tone isn’t harsh, she’s obviously just trying to lighten the mood to calm Ava. “I won’t touch you again. Can you look at me?”
She sounds surprisingly calm and steady, Ava thinks. A strangely coherent thought above the fog of panic. She wouldn’t have pegged Deb as someone particularly adept at handling others’ panic attacks.
“Oh my god, the gummies,” Ava groans, finding her body unfrozen enough to bring her hands to her face. “Does that have something to do with why I seem to be naked in your bed? Oh my god, did we-? Shit, shit, I’m so sorry-” she starts to scramble to get out of the bed but remembers she’s not wearing anything, so she’s sort of just scrambling around restlessly in the sheets as her panic starts to rev up again.
“No, Ava. Shh,” Deborah snorts lightly. She continues quietly and steadily, “We did not do anything. I believe you started orating about how clothes are too restrictive and that the whole world should be one big nudist colony, and that you were never going to sleep in clothes again. Then you divested yourself of your pajamas, got under the covers, and fell asleep before I could do anything about it.”
Deborah internally cringes, immediately regretting her choice of words. Of course she wasn’t gonna do anything while Ava was high, despite the flush she had felt the night before when she realized they were about to spend the night in the same bed. But Ava doesn’t seem to react. Deborah’s secretly relieved that at least she did not fall prey to the silly speech and that her own silk pajamas are fully intact.
The prior night’s events come back to Ava as Deborah reminds her. She rolls onto her back, holding the sheets tightly at her neck and still not looking at Deborah. Her eyes are closed.
“Breathe, honey. Just take a deep breath. You’re okay,” Deborah says gently. “Just breathe.”
Ava listens to Deborah’s steady breathing and tries to slow her own heart rate. They breathe in silence for several minutes. Eventually, Ava feels less flooded, and just feels tired and embarrassed. She opens her eyes and looks at the ceiling for a moment before steeling herself to look over at Deborah, who is backlit by the lamp, carefully watching her.
“Better?” she asks. “I think your clothes are on the floor on your side. I’m gonna go get you some water while you get dressed, okay?” She’s sitting up, still, and speaks in a low voice. Ava can’t read much in her face beyond that. She nods quickly at this plan, eyes still too wide as she watches Deborah calmly get up from the bed and leave the room, shutting the door softly behind her.
Alone, Ava finally takes a true deep breath. Her body now spent from the panic attack, she feels hot shame wash over her at the fact that Deborah witnessed her stupid freak-out and is also being so weirdly nice about it. She forces herself to get out of bed and get dressed, then goes into the bathroom to splash some water on her face. She brushes her teeth to try to wash out the bad taste of morning and adrenaline. She's gripping the countertop and trying to keep her body calm when she hears Deborah return. She has a glass of water for Ava and a cup of coffee for herself. She glances first at the bed, looking for Ava, and then catches her eye in the bathroom mirror. She smiles gently, holding the glass of water up like a toast.
“No caffeine for you.”
Ava tries for a smile and rolls her eyes but doesn't protest. Deborah comes back to her side of the bed and settles in with her back against the headboard.
“Deborah, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have stayed the night here in the first place and I'm definitely sorry I woke you up like… that. But I’m totally fine and we can just forget it ever happened-”
“Ava.” Deborah interrupts her. “I can see you shaking from here. You’re not fine. Come here.” She pats the space next to her on the bed, sipping her coffee but still watching Ava with that careful look.
Ava’s too tired to argue, so she comes to sit beside her.
“Also, you’re being, like, weirdly nice to me. Since when are you good at dealing with other people’s panic attacks, anyway? A panic attack seems like something you’d call a Gen Z fad and tell me I’m not getting enough iron or something.”
Deborah rolls her eyes. “Well, do you take an iron supplement?”
“No.”
“See. But you’re deflecting. You wanna tell me what that was about?”
Ava sighs and looks down at her hands. She hasn’t had one like that in so long, she honestly thought they were behind her. The fact makes her feel stupid, and she feels her heart rate start to rise again.
“Hey,” Deborah says, pulling her out of her thoughts. Deborah can sense the hint of panic starting to come back and reaches over as if to grab Ava’s hand where she’s scratching at her cuticles, but stops her hand in midair and drops it back down. “What do you need?” she asks.
Ava leans her head back against the headboard and exhales a short frustrated breath with her eyes closed.
“Can you just hold me?” Ava says it so quietly Deborah wonders for a second if she misheard her. She freezes briefly, then hesitantly lifts her arm after a moment so Ava can scoot in beside her if she wants.
“But I don't- if you don't want to be touch-” but Ava is already snuggling into her side and burying her face in Deborah’s collarbone so she doesn't have to look at her.
Deborah tries to slow the breath she finds herself taking, shocked at all the sudden contact. She tries to tamp down the heat she feels rising in her from the sensation of the outline of Ava’s chest pressed against her side. She gingerly lowers her arm back down to rest over Ava’s shoulders. She needs to shake her feelings off and get back to what’s at hand.
“Can I ask you something?” Deborah says. Ava notes an unusual hesitancy behind her words.
“Sure,” Ava sighs, somewhat resigned. She has a feeling she knows what’s coming.
“Have… have you ever been sexually assaulted?”
Ava is playing with the seam of Deborah’s pajama pants around her knees, obviously just looking for something to touch to ground herself. That’s the question she thought was coming, but it’s still kind of shocking to hear it out loud and from Deborah, of all people, usually so icy and also her employer.
“Oh. Eh, you know, just the usual amount,” Ava tries for a light tone, but her laugh after she says it comes out forced. Deborah’s hand tightens around her shoulders.
Deborah knows she’s the one who asked, but she feels very unequipped to be having this conversation.
“Ava. There should not be a ‘usual’ amount,” she starts.
“Nah, it’s really not that big a deal. It was a long time ago. I haven’t…” Ava gestures in front of her to reference what just happened - “done this in a really long time. I think the waking up naked in a strange bed is what did it for me. Even though that’s not even-” she trails off again.
Deborah waits.
“It was in a pool. Remember how I can’t swim?” she chuckles darkly. “First boyfriend tried to, uh, finger me at someone’s pool party back in high school. I probably could have stopped him, but I think I was pretty drunk.”
Deborah’s hand is still tight around her shoulder, but not uncomfortably. It feels grounding. It sounds like she’s making an effort to keep her own breathing measured, and Ava briefly hates herself for oversharing something that’s upsetting to hear, but as usual, she doesn’t know how to shut herself up, so she keeps going.
“And I’ve figured out how to get around it when I have sex. It’s not like I’m a nun or anything, although that might not be very convincing to you at this moment considering how I vaulted away when you tried to touch me earlier. I just, uh, try to be the one doing the fingering, or if I’m not being a top - getting the sense this isn’t the time for me to go into why the top/bottom dichotomy is problematic, but don’t think I’ll forget-”
Deborah rolls her eyes even though Ava can’t see her face.
“-then I’ll use a toy, or touch myself, or you know, utilize a real dick if I’m with someone who has one of those.” Ava chuckles awkwardly; she realizes she’s word vomiting. “I haven’t had a panic attack like that in years; I promise I’m usually so fine.”
Ava felt Deborah’s heart rate speeding up a bit as she talked, since her face is still pressed to the top of Deborah’s chest. “God, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“I did ask. Well, for the first part of that,” Deborah says. Ava can hear the hint of a smile in her words. “High school! God, you were so young. I’m so sorry. I hope you realize it wasn’t your fault. You shouldn't have had to stop him. And if you were drunk- it shouldn't have happened.”
Deborah suddenly pulls her arm back off Ava and scoots away a few inches, busying herself pretending to reach for something on her nightstand. Ava nearly falls back into Deborah - she’d been leaning into her side and now had to catch herself to sit back up with the support suddenly gone. “What-” Ava begins to ask.
“I should give you space. You’ve been through a lot, I shouldn’t be…” Deborah trails off, looking away.
Ava is confused at this new discomfort from Deborah. “Literally what are you talking about? I’m the one who wanted to be close. You’ve touched my shoulder or side-hugged me or whatever a million times before, you know it’s fine!”
Deborah purses her lips but doesn’t resist Ava snuggling back into her side again.
“I trust you,” Ava says into her shirt.
Deborah’s breath hitches. She closes her eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t,” she says. She means it to sound harsher, but it just comes out sad.
Ava doesn’t even appear bothered. “Again, literally what are you talking about? We’ve already been in a pool together and you didn’t try to finger me then. Unfortunately.” Ava can’t stop herself and the last word comes out against her will, as a whisper. They both still, and Ava cringes, waiting for Deborah’s reaction.
Deborah’s brain is short-circuiting. She had been beating herself up all morning for the flashes of attraction towards Ava’s closeness that her body had been betraying her with. Now Ava’s acting like it might be reciprocated? This is all too much.
“I know you’re straight, Deb. Ignore that,” Ava tries to tack on helpfully.
“I don’t know that we can ignore that,” Deborah says, her throat dry. Her body is still locked still, but she knows she can’t keep up her cool facade forever since Ava’s face is pressed back against her chest and she knows she feels her heart pounding.
Deborah tries to get the situation back under control. “Listen, maybe I’m not as straight as I thought I was. Which is why maybe you shouldn’t trust me. You’ve just told me that you were assaulted, and I can’t stop myself from feeling attracted to you. So I think you should go, and find someone who can genuinely be there for you.”
Deborah’s glad in a bittersweet way when Ava sits up away from her, but the relief is shattered when she realizes Ava is only sitting up so she can look her in the eyes. Ava’s eyes narrow like she’s on the brink of figuring out a puzzle, and there’s something like a smile hiding just under the surface of her expression.
“Deb. You literally have to know by now that I’ve had a massive crush on you for actually so long. Yesterday I got high with you, and apparently the first thing I did was get in your bed naked. Obviously I trust you. I also assumed whatever attraction I feel towards you doesn’t matter, cause you’re straight and my boss and a million other reasons why that wouldn’t work. However, with this new information…”
A grin spreads across Ava’s face as she scoots back towards Deborah, her eyes on Deborah’s lips.
Deborah has never felt so flustered in her life.
“No!” She reaches out a hand against Ava’s shoulder to stop her when it becomes apparent that Ava was leaning in to kiss her. “No. You just had a panic attack. I am not going to kiss you right now, Jesus.”
“Didn’t say you didn’t want to,” Ava says slyly.
“Ava! You’re the one always wanting to-” Deborah gestures her hands around - “talk about things!”
“Oh, and now you’re complaining that I’m not talking enough? I thought you’d be glad to kiss me and shut me up for once.”
There’s no real barbs behind their words. It feels more comfortable teasing like this, back to their usual back-and-forth, though the subject matter makes it feel surreal at the same time. Ava can’t believe Deborah was the first to confess her feelings, and she says as much. “Maybe my oversharing was good for something after all!”
Deborah still feels flustered. “It’s not like I was planning to tell you right now! It just came out cause you were right here -” she waves her hand towards the empty space at her side where Ava had been snuggled up, “and I woke up with my arm across your waist. And you just had a panic attack, and I don’t want to hurt you again!”
The last part comes out raw. Ava lowers her chin and gives her a knowing look. They’re both thinking of the slap. Ava tries to communicate a calmness through her gaze since Deborah seems to be about to bolt.
Ava sighs. “You told me you wouldn’t do it again, and I believe you,” she says simply. “And you being so overly careful right now just tells me even more that you won’t hurt me.”
The corner of her mouth quirks up as she continues in a more playful tone. “Now if you’d let me kiss you, we can prove that I trust you, and that you won’t do anything I don’t want.”
Deborah doesn’t take the bait and still looks serious as she searches Ava’s eyes for signs that she means it. “I’d never do anything you didn’t want me to do. But you’d have to tell me what that is. You have to say no.”
Ava nods, small and quick, looking serious enough that Deborah believes her.
The glint comes back into her eyes as she says, “I’d rather be occupied so I can’t talk at all,” and closes the distance between them quickly before Deborah can stop her again, though she doesn’t try this time. Ava kisses her gently on the mouth, just a quick peck before pulling back to look at Deborah. Ava can’t really believe this is happening. She figures she needs to just press on with it before she wakes up from whatever dream is allowing Deborah Vance to actually be attracted to her.
Deborah can’t believe it either, but the rush she feels from Ava’s lips pushes aside any other misgivings she has. She’ll spend hours overthinking this later, she’s sure, but for now she just wants to make Ava feel taken care of. And if that involves kissing, well.
Deborah scoots away from the edge of the bed that she had retreated towards and leans back against the headboard again so that Ava can sit fully in her lap. Wanting to stay very aware of Ava, she’s not letting herself get fully lost in their kissing, though it’s a bit of a fight against her body not to. She hasn’t actually felt anything while kissing someone in a long time, but again, that’s something to unpack later. She keeps her hands on Ava’s waist as she holds her in her lap. One of Ava’s hands is holding behind her neck, and the other one is scratching gently through Deborah’s hair. Deborah’s eyes flutter at the sensation. Ava’s other hand begins to play with the collar of her pajamas, fingers tracing around her collarbone. Deborah pulls lightly out of their kiss and brushes Ava’s hair over her shoulder so she can kiss, open-mouthed, down her jaw and neck.
Ava’s hips have started grinding slightly in her lap. Deborah moves her left hand up slightly from her grip on her waist so that her thumb is brushing the underside of Ava’s breast. She smiles at the whimper that pulls out of Ava, but doesn’t go any further. Ava’s fingers have found the top button of Deborah’s pajamas.
“Can I?” she asks, a bit breathless.
Deborah gives a small smile into Ava’s shoulder but shakes her head. “No. Not today.” The immediacy of her ‘no’ is due to her own insecurities rising in her chest - even having barely touched Ava’s breasts over her shirt, she has a good idea they don’t look anything like hers at her age. But she shoves that thought down. This is about Ava right now, anyway. Plus, maybe it’s good to model a no . Ava nods at Deborah’s answer and slides her hands back up to Deborah’s shoulders and down her arms until she lands on Deborah’s waist. Deborah gasps a little at the new warmth of Ava’s hands on her stomach through the fabric. She feels a little out of her depth - the way Ava’s hips are moving, she obviously wants more, but she’s not about to get anywhere near fingering her after what Ava told her. She’s trying to let her lead, but also wants to take care of her. She’s running her nails over Ava’s stomach while she considers. She hesitantly moves a hand down to Ava’s thigh.
“Is this okay?” she asks, as she lowers her hand down. But Ava chooses that moment to thrust even closer to Deborah, so instead of landing mid-thigh as she intended, Deborah’s hand is suddenly up at Ava’s hip crease and her thumb bumps right into Ava’s pubic bone, hitting hard and sliding back towards her clit. Fuck.
The “yes” on Ava’s tongue gets swallowed as she feels the sudden, hard contact. She knows Deborah didn’t mean to do that, knows that she basically just shoved her crotch onto Deborah’s fingers. But the logic can’t stop the physical response that’s already happening. She can barely hear Deborah’s apologies over the blood whooshing in her ears. Her vision is going unfocused in that familiar way. Deborah is gently moving her out of her lap and sitting her next to her on the bed. She’s hyperventilating and hot. She feels powerless to stop the physical aspects of the panic attack, but her thoughts are weirdly calm this time. It’s like her mind is torn in two: part of her is having the familiar flashback, miles and years away. But another part of her knows she’s safe. That part of her trusts that Deborah will take care of her, that she’ll come back to her body after the panic has passed and she’ll be safe. This new awareness causes a tear to fall.
It’s as if she’s watching the scene from above, detached, when she sees Deborah reach out as if to wipe it away before catching herself and dropping her hand midair. The instinctive kindness and the frustration she sees on Deborah’s face - that she wants to touch Ava in comfort but feels she can’t - causes Ava to tear up again. She slowly comes back into the room, quicker than the last time. She tunes back into Deborah’s voice telling her to look at her and breathe. She thinks her body must just be spent, because she hardly feels anything by the time she’s fully back.
“Can you -” Ava’s voice is rough when she finally speaks and she trails off, scooting down the bed and practically falling into Deborah’s arms.
Deborah doesn’t make any jokes this time. She just repositions them until they’re both lying down on their sides, Ava’s face pressed to the silk above Deborah’s chest. She wraps her arm around her and rubs circles between her shoulder blades. They lie there for several minutes. Ava isn’t sure how long. Eventually, she notices she isn’t sweating anymore, and her breathing is normal.
She can tell Deborah is about to say something. She wants to beat her to it.
“I feel like you’re gonna apologize and act like that was your fault. Don’t, and it wasn’t. I’m sorry. Again. I promise I can be normal, but I know you probably don’t believe me, so it’s totally okay if you never want to try again and we can act like this never happened. Well, actually I don’t know if I can do that because I will still be thinking forever about how you said you’re attracted to me.”
Deborah groans at that. Ava continues. “I’ll keep working on it in therapy, I promise. You know what won’t be an issue? I want to do so many things to you, I want to get you out of that silk and give you the best sex of your life if you’ll let me.
“Jesus, are you done yet?”
“Do you trust me?”
“...yes?” Ava takes Deborah’s hand and starts to pull it between her legs.
“What -” Deborah stops their hands, but Ava doesn’t let go. “I 100% trust you,” Ava says, “I think I just need to feel you here on my own timing once when we’re not already in the middle of it. Can you just, like, hold your hand there still? So I can get used to it.”
“No.” She’s already shaking her head. “I said I can’t hurt you again, and I already just did.”
“No, you didn’t. For someone who, again, seems weirdly familiar with panic attacks for reasons you’ve yet to explain, you should know they’re not about you. It’s called a flash back , ever heard of it?”
Deborah huffs. “Why are you so surprised about that? Between the addicts in my life, the performers with stage fright… take your pick. I haven’t been doing cushy QVC work in my bubble as you call it forever, you know. There’s plenty you don’t know about me.”
“Yet,” Ava grins.
“Oh, please.” Deborah rolls her eyes.
“Now you’re deflecting. I mean it, you didn’t hurt me, and you won’t hurt me now. I’m asking you to touch me, if you’re comfortable with it. I think it will help. Please, trust me.”
Deborah exhales. “Are you sure? We don’t need to do this now . I know I’m old, but it’s not like I’m gonna die tomorrow and this is our only chance.”
“Wow, bringing up death right now?”
“It’ll be your death if you have another panic attack today.”
“I won’t! That’s literally what I’m trying to avoid. I think if we push this off to try again later ” - Deborah can hear the air quotes - “then I’ll just be stressed about that. I think I just need to rip off the bandaid, you know?”
Deborah is silent for a minute.
“Okay. Whatever you need. If you’re sure,” though she still looks slightly concerned as she reads Ava’s face. Ava looks sure.
“Thank you,” Ava breathes, and resumes slowly guiding Deborah’s hand between her legs where she wants it. Her hand is over Deborah’s as she leads her to cup her over her shorts. Deborah keeps her hand very still, and Ava breathes. She feels the warmth and light pressure of her hand and feels as her cunt starts to pulse into it. Deborah’s other hand is pressing gently into her shoulder near the pillow. She takes another breath. She feels held. She’s ok. She finally raises her eyes up to meet Deborah’s. She still feels some shame, but Deborah’s blue eyes are looking at her with such kindness she almost wants to cry again. Instead, she tilts her head up to kiss her.