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It always smells weird in a crowded venue, and not in a good way. That's what Cassie thinks the moment they step into the place, lights dim over a smattering of people. The stage is set up for the band but empty, just wires, boxes, and a drum kit illuminated by the blue lights of the club.
"You sure you're good?" Ellis asks. "We can always just go to Chili's, you know."
Cassie shakes her head. "I'm good, no worries," she assures her. "I love live music."
Ellis shrugs, uncertain. "We can leave whenever you want. No questions." Cassie wraps an arm around her shoulder and squeezes appreciatively.
She's been sober long enough to handle places like this, the urge a distant memory from a past so far away it feels like another lifetime. Still, Ellis is protective over her and it's endearing only because Cassie knows she means well.
The concert was an unplanned, somewhat spur of the moment idea. Ellis was supposed to go with Walsh but something came up, so she proposed the idea to Cassie, mentioning it offhandedly during a shift change and telling her to sleep on it. The tickets were cheap and she wouldn't be mad if she said no. Cassie did sleep on it and texted an affirmation the next day while mindlessly poking at a cafeteria salad. She does like live music, and getting out of the house could be good for her.
Now, standing in a dingy club, it's not the alcohol or the leagues of drunk twenty somethings she's worried about, but the overwhelming sound emanating from the cramped, echoey space. "It's already loud and the band hasn't even shown up yet," Cassie leans toward Ellis to complain. "I know, right?"
Eventually the show starts, raving fans pushing toward the stage. Cassie and Ellis fall toward the back, lodged between two groups of kids with brightly dyed hair, screaming along to the voice of the lead singer. He's kneeling, practically crawling off the stage, singing directly into the crowd.
After a while the floor starts to get overwhelming, people crowding her personal space, loud and rude, and Cassie remembers why she stopped going to shows like this. "I'm gonna get a bottle of water," She yells toward Ellis. "At the bar?" She asks, glancing worriedly. "Do you want me to get it?"
"No, I'm fine," she assures, "stay here, don't lose your spot." Ellis nods, wary, but lets her go.
It's practically impossible to push through the crowd and she has to elbow a couple people just to escape, but she makes it to the back of the room in one piece. She's grateful it's mostly empty, just a couple of others at the end of the bar.
"Water?" She asks the bartender, a young guy with a buzz cut and a face tattoo. He pours her a glass of bottled water with a scoop of ice and slides it down the counter.
She hesitates as she turns back toward the crowd, weighing her options. The music sounds the same from back here, without being pushed or prodded. She takes a seat at the bar. From here she can kinda see the guitarist through the mass of people. He looks familiar. She's about to look up the band before she spots a figure approaching the bar.
"I'll have whatever she's having," the girl says, and Cassie doesn't realize the ‘she’ in question is herself until the bartender snorts. "That's a glass of water."
"Oh," the girl says. "Right."
Cassie looks up at her, curiosity piqued.
She's short, standing at the bar but still the same height as Cassie is seated. There's lights overhead, but they're dim, so she has to squint to make out her features. Big, long lashed brown eyes, illuminated by shimmery eyeshadow that glints blue little sparkles when she blinks, and dark red lips poised around a toothy smile. Wavy black hair hugs her shoulders, leading down to a low cut black top. Young, but with an air about her, something that tells Cassie there's more to her than she could possibly know. Captivating.
"Don't let me stop you from getting drunk," Cassie says, drawing the girl's attention back to her.
She takes the stool beside her, dragging it closer to the bar, and accepts her glass of water. "I pregamed, so it's fine. Smarter, actually. Hydration is key to avoiding a hangover."
Cassie nods. "Good choice." She observes the girl, more to discover this close. She has a wristband, her hand stamped with some symbol. A dangling gold necklace adorned with the letter V, a couple of earrings per ear. "Enjoying the show?"
She shrugs halfheartedly. "I don't really listen to this stuff, my friends like them." She spins on the stool. "I just needed an excuse to wear this skirt."
Cassie looks down, intrigued, and sees the other half of her ensemble: a tight black pleather skirt that hugs the longest legs she's ever seen, leading down to a pair of patent leather platform heels. Cassie's face is hot as she observes the display. "Great taste," she says, clipped, and grateful for the shitty lighting that obscures her obvious blush.
"You don't look bad yourself," the girl replies, unexpectedly flirtatious, and she looks down, suddenly insecure about the outfit she threw on. She hasn't done laundry since her son went back to his dad's, so this outfit is whatever she found clean in her closet. A dark gray muscle tee with a graphic so faded it’s no longer legible, a black bra that's extremely visible, she suddenly realizes, black jeans, and a pair of beat up Converse. She could look worse, but this isn't exactly what she considers a hot outfit. Certainly not what she’d have left the house in if she’d known this was where her night was headed.
"I'm Victoria, by the way," she says, cheery, scooting closer.
"Cassie."
"You don't seem very interested in the band either," she says, hands around her glass. Her nails are short and painted light pink, pretty against her brown skin.
"I'm with a friend. She was supposed to come with our coworker, but it didn't work out so I offered." She traces the rim of her glass. "Not really my scene."
Victoria raises an eyebrow. "Really? You fit in." She takes a sip of her water. "I assumed you were an old fan."
"Old?" Cassie asks, pulling away as if hurt by the word. Victoria grins, apologetic, and laughs. "I mean like, a fan of their older stuff. The one guy used to be in some other famous band. The guitarist, I think. That's what my friend said."
"Oh, I thought he looked familiar." Cassie shrugs. "I used to go to hardcore shows with my ex. That was decades ago, though."
"Decades," Victoria repeats, intrigued. "Like how many?"
Cassie assumed the age difference would put her off. "Two, I guess, I haven't been to a show since before my s- uh, since, the 2000s. I guess." Real smooth, Cass.
Victoria eyes her, a knowing glint to the look, but she drops the subject. "You said you were here with a coworker, right? What do you guys do?"
"I'm a doctor." This, she thinks, is on the cusp of too personal for a conversation with someone she met at a bar.
Victoria smiles into her glass, like something about that is funny. "What?"
"It's just. I'm a medical student. I don't usually meet our kind of people at places like this. Real doctors, I mean."
"Lucky coincidence."
"Could be very lucky," Victoria says. She drops her hand from her glass, just centimeters from Cassie's own.
Cassie catches her eye, falters just slightly. It's been a while. "Why me?"
Victoria mulls it over in her head. "Why not?"
"Because I'm probably twice your age?" she offers, but she doesn't turn away. This is, definitionally, what people have told her constitutes 'mixed signals,' but she can't help it. A little flirting never did any harm.
"Would I still be here if that were an issue?”
“This place is full of people your own age,” she shouts, the music getting louder. The band must be really getting into it now.
“I don't care about them,” Victoria yells back. “I'm here. With you.”
She's close enough that Cassie can feel her body warmth. Their fingers brush as she adjusts her grip on her glass, the water room temperature by now.
"Cassie," Victoria says, slinking her fingers up her wrist, her touch scalding. "Doctor."
A surge of heat races down Cassie’s spine and she has half a mind to get up right now and go find Ellis in the crowd, act like she got stuck in the bathroom line, but something keeps her pinned to her seat.
Victoria is grinning, eyes low, stuck on Cassie's lips, intent on sending a very clear message. Cassie is not out of her own depth, not even close, but she's toeing a line here. "How old are you, really?"
Victoria blinks, defeat crossing her face, but her expression smooths over as quickly as it shifts. "My ID says 24." She flashes a mischievous grin, one that says 'I've made it this far already.' Cassie cocks an eyebrow.
The façade drops as Victoria heaves a sigh. "Alright, I'm twenty."
Oh. Cassie sucks her teeth, taking a sip from her glass. Young.
“I was out of undergrad by the time you were born.”
Victoria tilts her glass absentmindedly. “So?”
Cassie can't help but smile, fixing her bangs out of habit. “I think you drank a little too much.”
“That was hours ago, I’m not even close to drunk,” Victoria says, clear and with so much conviction Cassie finds it hard not to believe her.
What the hell, why can't she live a little?
"You come on strong," she glances back at Victoria, making a show of sizing her up. "Being as young as you are."
Victoria reciprocates the look, slipping back into form with ease. "I thought my age might discourage you." She bites her lip, pushing her glass away. "Didn't want it to get in the way of my chances."
She's inching toward Cassie, leaning ever so slightly into her space, until their faces are close enough that Cassie can practically count her mascaraed eyelashes. A knee bumps hers beneath the bar, once, twice, until she feels an ankle hook around her own.
This is far too crowded a place for what she really wants to do, and she's past the age where publicly indecent acts with people she just met would be considered permissible conduct. She could wait it out, see where this goes if she doesn't lead, but Victoria's skirt is very short and very tight, and Cassie is very interested in getting her out of it.
"My place," she starts, her turn to stroke Victoria's arm, keen on drawing her in, playing with her food, "is a block away." She allows the foot around her ankle to pull her closer, until Victoria is practically in her lap. "Is that what you want? To come home with me?"
Victoria is just staring at her lips now, gaze ravenous, big brown eyes trained on every minute movement of her mouth. She licks her lips, slow, just to do it, and Victoria follows suit. Cassie leans, so close she's almost speaking into Victoria's mouth, but not close enough that their lips touch. "I asked you a question."
Victoria doesn't hesitate, just presses her lips into Cassie's. Soft at first, careful, betraying inexperience, or maybe apprehension, Cassie thinks. She is immediately proven wrong as Victoria slides her tongue across her bottom lip, coaxing her mouth open, eager, verging on desperate. That’s what she expects of a twenty year old. She lets herself be kissed, fervent despite the angle, needy, absolutely not what she expected from tonight.
“Wait,” she says, trying halfheartedly to get a word in. “I was serious-” Victoria is off her stool, fumbling the kiss until she's standing, nestled between Cassie’s legs, “about going back to my place.”
Victoria stops licking into her mouth, hands still grasping at her thighs. “If we can keep doing this, you can take me anywhere.”
Cassie lets out a laugh, earnest. “Shit.”
“What?”
Cassie squeezes her eyes shut. “I can't abandon my friend, we came together. Fuck.” She turns back toward the crowd, and as soon as she does, Ellis appears from the swarm of bodies. “Jesus, McKay, I thought you got lost-” she assesses the scene before her. “Oh.”
Cassie turns away from Victoria, trying to reorient herself as fast as possible, but it doesn't hide the visible embarrassment on her face. “You got a little-” Ellis gestures to her mouth, “something on your lip.”
Victoria, clearly realizing she isn't going to be introduced by Cassie, takes the matter into her own hands. “Hi,” she says, giving a little wave. “I’m Victoria.” She offers a smile and Cassie feels like she's in a nightmare. A really, really hot, weird nightmare.
“I'm Parker. I'm Cassie’s coworker.” She looks at Cassie. “I take it I’m interrupting something.”
The only way out is through, and God damn it, Cassie McKay will make it out of this conversation with her dignity intact. At least whatever dignity a grown woman who's been caught sucking face at a bar, sober, has left.
“Yeah, we were actually gonna head out.” She’s putting on an award winning show of being Put Together, bangs scruffed back into a presentable state, not looking as thoroughly Down To Fuck as she feels, she thinks, but Victoria still has a hand on her thigh, squeezing it through the denim, and fuck, they need to get the fuck out of here. And then out of their clothes, preferably.
“You're gonna walk home?” Ellis asks, ignoring Victoria’s visibly roaming hands.
“Yeah, yes. We are.”
“If we make it that far,” Victoria whispers. Cassie is going to die on this barstool.
“I left my car at your place.”
“Yeah, I know,” Cassie debates, “um, you can leave with us?”
Victoria squeezes her leg again, harder, and gives her an exasperated look that resembles an angry bunny. “Or not.” She curses to herself. This is punishment for some cardinal sin she’s committed, it has to be.
Ellis laughs like she's in on a joke. “It's fine, Princess is here, she's gonna give me a ride after the show ends. I saw you two earlier, I just wanted to come bother you.” Ellis hits Cassie’s shoulder. “I can pick up my car later.”
Cassie laughs, too, and it's a ridiculous what-the-fuck-is-happening laugh. “Okay, that works. Wait, Princess is here?”
“Who’s that?” Victoria asks, still speaking directly into Cassie’s neck, and the feeling of her breath against her jaw has Cassie up and off her chair in a millisecond. “Great, great. It's all worked out.”
“It's a shame for you to miss the rest of the show, though,” Ellis says, teasing.
“It's fine,” Cassie says, “really, no worries. Thanks again for the invite!” Victoria is glued to her side, arms wrapping around her waist. “Have fun,” she says as Ellis retreats back into the crowd. Ellis gives Cassie a look that is as encouraging as it is warning. “You too.”
“Didn't you come here with friends?” Cassie asks, walking them briskly toward the back exit, because though she ideally would like to be sprinting to her apartment right now, she does want Victoria to feel safe.
Victoria, on the other hand, doesn't seem to share that concern, her warm hands sliding under Cassie’s shirt. “They're at barricade, it'll be impossible to get to them. I’ll text them later,” she urges. “Come on.”
Cassie frowns as they exit. “Really, can you at least share your location? I don't want them to worry.”
Victoria looks up at her, amused. “You sound like my mother,” she says, but she follows through, showing Cassie her shared location in the group chat.
They fall into a comfortable silence as they walk, and it strikes Cassie that the last time she did this, picked someone up at a bar, she couldn't have been much older than Victoria.
“Is this weird?”
“What? Bringing a complete stranger home in the middle of the night?” Victoria asks. “Or hooking up with the complete stranger?”
“I mean,” Cassie says, “God, was this stupid? Is this a bad idea?” They're already at the corner, only a few yards until they reach her building.
Victoria turns to her, grabbing both of her arms. They're at the end of the sidewalk, the glow of the streetlights dim enough that Cassie can only see part of her face. “I want this.” She's staring right into Cassie’s eyes, and in the dark she can feel more than see the assurance on her face. “Okay.” She says. “Okay.”
She's about to ask another question, but Victoria senses it and interrupts her. “I just walked-” she checks behind them, “three quarters of a mile in going out heels to get in bed with you. If you're about to ask me if I’m sure-”
Cassie laughs, not even letting her finish the sentence before she's grabbing her face again, easing into a kiss just as passionate as the first one.
Victoria submits to her grasp easily, nearly falling into her. She stumbles back, but she's smiling, lipstick smudged down her chin, and God is she beautiful. “Please just take me home already.”
Once they reach the McKay residence, Cassie lets Victoria into her bedroom and retreats to the hallway bathroom. She gives herself a silent pep talk in the mirror as she brushes her teeth, psyching herself into believing that she knows what she's doing. She is a competent adult with strong decision making skills who’s just being spontaneous. This is her loosening up.
"Still here?" She asks into the dark as she ventures toward the bedroom.
"Of course," Victoria responds, and then, "with or without my clothes, you'll have to come find out.”
Cassie enters her room to find Victoria on her bed, which is dressed, thank God. She’s still clothed, spread out on top of the mattress, her arms strewn out over the comforter, hair cascading over Cassie's pillows like flowing water. The nightlight is on in the corner of the room, bathing her in a hazy glow like something out of a dream.
“Would you get over here already?” she asks, smiling as she stretches her limbs. Cassie climbs onto the bed, kneeling over her, and it's Victoria’s turn to grab her face, gentle, pulling her close, kissing her so softly.
Cassie all but lays on top of her, shifting so that her knee falls between Victoria’s legs, who smiles into the kiss as she feels that sweet pressure exactly where she wants it. “Finally,” she whispers. “Been waiting to get under you all night.” The layers of denim and pleather between their bodies do little to prevent the heat from building, but Victoria’s skirt starts to restrict their movement when Cassie tries to spread her legs further, so she pulls at the zipper on the side. “You look great in this, but-”
“I look better out of it,” Victoria finishes, her hand reaching for Cassie’s as she slides the zipper down, kicking the skirt off. Her legs are long, smooth, tan, gorgeous like the rest of her, leading up to tiny red lacy panties, because of course. They even have a little bow in the front. “Fuck,” Cassie whispers under her breath. “Please,” Victoria answers, and then she's guiding Cassie’s hand from her outer thigh in, closer, closer, stopping her fingers just as she reaches the hem.
“Uh-uh,” she says, biting her lip as she slides out from under Cassie, coy. Cassie groans, subject to torture in her own bed. Victoria moves up the mattress until she's flush against the headboard. “You first.”
Cassie wants to laugh, she wants to cry, she hasn't been this turned on in God knows how long, but she does exactly as told, peeling her jeans off, then her shirt. They land with a plop onto the carpet.
She was not prepared for a hook up tonight, but luckily she's wearing regular black panties. Victoria takes her in as she strips, eyes trailing up strong legs, soft abs, the bra that Cassie considers her nice one. The tiny tattoo under her collarbone. Victoria grabs her thighs to pull her up to the top of the bed, and they slide back together easily. Cassie kisses her, chaste, focusing more closely at her neck, under her ear, across her chest. She builds up a rhythm, a slow grind as she sucks at Victoria’s neck, thigh pressed into the wet patch of her panties. She picks up Victoria’s pendant in her teeth as she makes her way up the side of her neck, dropping it to kiss the spot just under her ear. “So pretty.”
“Hey,” Victoria whispers, quiet, as she works over the underside of her jaw. Cassie looks up at her through her bangs. Victoria bites her lip, almost shy.
“I know I act like I know what I’m doing, but,” she rests an arm against Cassie’s shoulder, twisting a fallen lock of hair between her fingers. “I- I don't. Know that much.” And then, quieter, “I’ve never actually done this before.”
She's staring up at Cassie with so much sincerity it takes her out of the moment. “What?”
Fear flashes across Victoria’s eyes for just a second. Cassie stops, sits up between her legs. “Is this your first time?”
“What? No,” Victoria answers, covering her face with a hand. “Shit, I made it weird.” She peeks through her fingers. “Did I ruin it?”
“No, no,” Cassie says, her mom voice coming out, which is making it weird. “Do you- what do you want? To do, then, I mean?”
“Um,” Victoria hesitates, sitting up, attempting to cross her legs, but Cassie is between them. “I have no idea. I didn't think I’d get this far.” She brushes her hair behind her ear, an anxious habit, endearing. Her entire demeanor is different, the overconfident mask dropped, and Cassie finds herself more intrigued than less.
“By 'never done this before,’ is 'this' sex with a woman? Or hooking up in general?”
Victoria tugs at the hem of her top. “I've hooked up with guys. A few. Not like,” she shakes her head, nervous now. “Not a lot. But not girls. Not in ways that count.”
“Oh,” Cassie says. “I can work with that.” She doesn't know if it's an advantage or a drawback that she, too, has not had sex with a woman in longer than she’d like to admit. “I have experience,” she says, rubbing Victoria’s leg, reassuring. “I’m glad you told me.” Victoria grins, lipstick long kissed off her lips, and lets Cassie’s head drop back down to her chest.
“We can take it slow,” Cassie says, sliding her hands up Victoria’s calves, caressing just above her knees. “Find out what you like.”
Victoria nods, so enthusiastic already. “Okay.” Then, as if confessing: “I trust you.”
“Good girl,” Cassie says into her lips, and then she's grabbing Victoria’s thighs and wrapping them around her waist. Victoria smiles as they kiss and Cassie can practically taste her excitement as their teeth clack against each other and Victoria laughs.
Cassie breaks away to pull at her top, a halter vest, ornate closures down the front. “Can we get this off?” Victoria nods, then whispers into her ear, “there's nothing under it.”
It doesn't take more than that for Cassie to rip it open, delicate as possible, and pull it off of her, Victoria immediately shying away from the exposure. “It’s okay,” Cassie says, kissing a trail up her neck toward her mouth. She clasps Victoria’s face in her hands, a gesture as assuring as it is tender, and rubs a thumb against her cheek. “Can I look at you?”
Victoria hums softly, unsure, but drops her arms from her chest. She pulls the palm of Cassie’s hand to her mouth and gives it a small kiss, nodding. “Okay.”
Cassie pulls back to admire the woman before her. Brown skin, smooth, breathtaking against blue bedding, half concealed by shadow. The soft lines of her breasts, the dip of her waist that leads down to the lace hem of her underwear. She has a tattoo under her rib, faint words in another language. Cassie kisses it, lips barely touching skin as she drags her hands down Victoria’s chest, her belly, lets them rest against her hips. Victoria’s eyes are shut, shy, vulnerable, but she smiles, eased by Cassie’s petting.
“I want to make you feel good,” Cassie says against the skin of her chest, just under her chin. “Do you want me to?” She caresses Victoria’s hips, slowly inching beneath the hem of her underwear.
“Yes, yes,” Victoria says, grinding her hips up into Cassie’s, her legs still wrapped around her. Cassie takes the affirmation and runs a hand into Victoria’s panties, past the patch of hair and the steadily spreading wet spot, finally, finally, toward her entrance, and Victoria moans so loud it verges on a yell. “That's encouraging,” Cassie laughs, but Victoria moans again as she presses the tip of a finger in, and she loses track of all thought, desperate to hear every sound Victoria can make.
Victoria’s heels are digging into Cassie’s lower back, her arms around her shoulders, and though Cassie would be content to spend eternity in her embrace like this, everything would feel even better with more leverage. She pauses her movements, and Victoria practically cries into her ear, but unhooks her elbows from around Cassie’s neck.
She lifts herself up with her free hand as Victoria lets her legs fall to the mattress. Cassie pulls the panties down, Victoria slinging them somewhere across the room with her foot, and she takes this as her chance to move downward.
“Are you-” Victoria spreads her legs wider to accommodate Cassie’s shoulders as she shifts on top of her hips. “Can I? Eat you out?” Cassie asks, fingers getting back to work. Victoria tilts her head back against the headboard with a breathy moan, tilting herself up toward Cassie’s movements, and she takes that as a yes.
She slips two fingers in, Victoria wet enough for them to slide in with little friction, and receives a whimper in return. Cassie settles onto the bed, resting her hand on Victoria’s hip. “You can put your legs over my shoulders,” she suggests.
Victoria lifts her legs from where they lay at Cassie’s sides, then reconsiders. “Wait,” she says, “come here.”
Cassie obeys, climbing up to face her, and Victoria greets her with a kiss, deep, sucking her lower lip into her mouth, pressing her tongue inside, and Cassie hasn't been kissed like this in years, she thinks. “Wow,” she says when Victoria releases her, dazed. “Okay, now you can get back to work,” Victoria says, out of breath, pushing Cassie downward with a hand on her shoulder.
And Cassie does, scissoring her fingers, slow, at the same time as she licks tentatively at her clit, so wet already. Victoria cries, a whine high in her throat, and hooks her calves over Cassie’s shoulders when she presses the flat of her tongue against it. Cassie smiles to herself and resumes the motions. She's still got it, baby.
Cassie works up a rhythm, fingers pressing into her walls as she licks, gentle at first, adding pressure as Victoria responds, and soon her noises shift from whines to sharp inhalations, and Cassie slows the movement of her hand, her lips migrating to Victoria’s inner thigh. She presses soft, slick kisses down her legs, then up, over her patch of hair, onto her belly. Cassie’s fingers slow to a soft, teasing rhythm as she works up to her chest, licks around her nipples, leaves a trail of pecks up to her chin. Cassie isn't sure if Victoria will kiss her again but she smiles, breathless, and pulls Cassie toward her. She’s gorgeous, mascara smeared under her eyes, beads of sweat collecting at her hairline, and it would be a travesty if Cassie couldn't kiss her like this. Victoria looks at her, half-spent, yet ready to consume her as she bites at Cassie’s lips, kiss wet and sloppy. She pulls at the hand Cassie still has inside her, bringing it up to her mouth, coy, even in this state, and sucks Cassie’s fingers between her lips, swirling her tongue around them.
Jesus, Cassie thinks, this is the best fucking night of her life, and then Victoria is kissing her again, guiding her hand back down, back inside. She starts to build her own rhythm, using Cassie’s hand like a toy, and Cassie had forgotten sex could be this good. She would say as much, but Victoria is moaning into her mouth, soft, breathy sounds, hot against her tongue, that cloud out the rest of her thoughts.
Victoria’s movements start to pick up, getting sporadic, and then she's flipping them over so that Cassie is on her back, stunned. Victoria lifts her hips up so Cassie can watch her own fingers as they disappear inside of her and the face she makes, brows furrowing at the sensation, and holy fuck is the only thought her brain can produce, knowing that this image will be seared into it forever. Victoria grinds down on her hand, rocking her hips, and this angle is even better, Cassie’s fingers hit even deeper, and then she can feel it, the spot she’s after, and so can Victoria, breath hitching in her throat. She leans back, braced against Cassie’s legs, riding her fingers as they press just right, and the view is so good, her body over Cassie’s, long hair flowing, mussed from throwing her head back against the headboard, necklace dangling across her shoulder. Cassie rubs her thumb against her clit, featherlight, but from the touch alone she feels Victoria clench, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut. A breathy moan, a crescendo, and then she falls next to Cassie, completely and utterly spent.
They lay next to each other, silent save for the sound of heaving breaths, Cassie watching the rise and fall of Victoria’s chest, content to just stay like this until they fall asleep. Victoria turns on her side after a while, reaching for Cassie’s face. She kisses her, sweet and slow, before reaching a hand down, caressing Cassie’s stomach. She stops at the waistband of her underwear. “Can I?”
Cassie nods into the kiss as Victoria’s hand slips underneath. “You have to tell me what you like now,” she whispers into Cassie’s lips. Her fingers immediately find her clit, pressing softly, and Cassie moans against her cheek. She rubs gently, soft fingers adept in their movements, teasing. “Are you sure you're an amateur?”
Victoria circles her fingers, applying pressure as she tosses a leg over Cassie’s hips, grinding against her. “I learn fast.”
It doesn't take much after that, Victoria rubbing just right, kissing down her neck, sucking at her collarbone. “Like this?” she asks, tilting her hand, pressing harder, faster, and Cassie can only gasp, eyes clenched shut. “There,” she says, “there, like that,” and then she’s coming too, arms wrapped around Victoria’s shoulders, moaning into her hair.
It takes a second to come back to her senses, but then Victoria is cuddling into her, head on her chest.
“You're a very good student,” she says after she catches her breath. Victoria hums. “I’m a hands-on learner.”
Cassie could check the clock, get her an Uber, but it's so warm here, Victoria’s body tucked against hers. She presses a soft kiss to Cassie’s shoulder, and it’s the last thing she feels before she falls asleep, sated.
+++
“Hey, have you caught the weird vibe between those two?” Santos asks when she finds Whitaker in another new set of scrubs.
“Who?”
She nods in the direction of McKay, leading Javadi toward a room across the way.
Whitaker shakes his head. “No. Why, have you?”
Santos shrugs. “Something’s going on there,” she twirls a pen in her hand, leaning over the counter. “I just can't figure out what.”
She asks Mel later in the day.
“No, what kind of ‘vibe?’ Like an issue?”
“No, no,” Santos assures. “Just… a vibe. I don't know. Probably nothing.”
When Doctor Ellis shows up, looking at McKay like she has three heads when she spots Javadi at her side, Santos is more confused than ever.
“People here keep secrets like you wouldn't believe,” she tells Whitaker on the way home.
While getting ready for bed she does the kind of Instagram scouring she hasn't had the opportunity to do since her high school arch nemesis married a Republican politician. “Oh, this is juicy,” she exclaims, running into Whitaker's room, toothbrush in one hand, phone in the other. “Ellis, McKay, and Crash were all at a Dunes concert two months ago. Except McKay went with Ellis, but disappeared halfway through her stories. And Crash posted one story from barricade and nothing else.” She waits expectantly for Whitaker's reaction.
“What?” he asks, sitting up in bed, groggy. “So?”
“They totally left together! Oh my God, Huckleberry, they fucked!”