They really need to stop watching TV together this late at night. That’s one thing Deborah knows for a fact. Especially after show nights, when they’re on overdrive well into the night, until they inevitably crash and then Ava’s too sleepy to leave Deborah’s bed, and Deborah is too tired, too comfortable to kick her out. Deborah would call it codependency, while Ava has referred to it as extreme bonding. At any rate, this particular night might be the catalyst to finally having that conversation because Ava shows up at Deborah’s door at 10pm and then just doesn’t bother to go back to her own room, and Deborah doesn’t think to remind her to go.
Sometime after their third or fourth Law & Order episode, Ava falls asleep, and not long after that, Deborah dozes off beside her. It’s a bad habit they've developed, falling asleep together. Except tonight, Deborah is awakened by the distinct feeling of a hand on her hip and what she soon will recognize as a thigh between her legs, and well, this is new, because for all the nights they’ve spent together after too many procedurals, waking up tangled up in each other is definitely a first.
Deborah’s more asleep than awake, and can barely register the soft light coming off the television screen; the barely audible murmur of a woman selling cast iron skillets. There’s the tiniest bit of pressure between her legs, just a tiny bit of friction. Not enough to get her to open her eyes, but enough that she leans into it without thinking, enough to register the heat of the body beside her, and she moans softly. She’s still grasping the last tethers of sleep when the grip on her hip becomes more persistent, the thigh pressed to her presses in, and now Deborah can confirm that she is in fact awake, that her nipples are hard, and that she’s wet and aching between her legs.
There’s a gentle grinding of hips, and an involuntary clench, and then a soft whimper, and a sigh beside her as she slowly opens her eyes to see Ava’s flutter open as well.
Deborah stiffens instantly, now fully conscious, her heart racing as she makes the slightest attempt to shift away so she can tell Ava to get the hell out before they both really have something to regret, but Ava holds her in place and her voice is hoarse, thick with sleep, when she says, “Don’t stop.”
Deborah sighs, her eyes drifting shut again as Ava gets a little closer, pulling Deborah in and higher up her thigh until their lips are a hair’s breadth away.
“Please don’t stop,” Ava whispers, her breath hitching when Deborah’s hips thrust and grind down a little more intently.
Now, Deborah is wide awake, and she feels somehow split into two different selves; the one in some alternate reality where she did the right thing, where she pushed Ava away and told her this would never happen again, and the Deborah that stayed. The one currently gyrating her hips against Ava’s thigh, the one whose ass is currently firmly in Ava’s hand, the one inching dangerously close to a kiss. She’s not so sure she’s all that interested in the other Deborah, the one not currently sharing a bed with her writing partner.
The sound of the sheets as they move against one another, their breathing--it’s somehow more lewd than anything could be in that moment and it spurs them both on. Ava's Grip on Deborah’s ass eases off to slide over her hip instead and up her side, stopping at her ribcage, her finger tips lingering just underneath her left breast.
Their eyes meet as Deborah takes Ava’s hand and guides it over the mound, holding it there as she rocks her hips forward. Ava’s lips part, her breath heavier, and she squeezes, drawing a whimpering moan from Deborah.
A desperate “ohmygod” stumbles out of Ava’s mouth before she lunges forward and presses her lips to Deborah’s, slanting her mouth to kiss her deeper, tugging at her bottom lip and then groaning when she’s rewarded with Deborah’s tongue in her mouth.
Deborah can’t stop it now–everything moves so fast from there that she couldn’t trace back who took what off first, but soon enough she finds herself naked, with her legs spread, Ava’s lips wrapped around her nipple and two fingers sheathed deep inside her. She fists her hand in Ava’s hair and tugs sharply, and for a moment Deborah’s taken aback by how absolutely ravenous she looks.
“This is such a bad idea,” Deborah pants, grunting softly when Ava’s fingers thrust and curl just so.
“It doesn’t feel like a bad idea to me. Does it feel like a bad idea to you?”
She circles Deborah’s clit with her thumb and Deborah gasps, arching her neck as she gushes unexpectedly around Ava’s fingers, her entire body stiffening and then melting into it, her hips undulating, riding the pleasure filled spasms, and then Ava’s hooked a leg over her shoulder and pushed a third finger inside her, and Deborah will be paying for this in the morning, but right now–right now she can barely get out any sort of comprehensible speech because Ava’s playing her like a fucking fiddle and every nerve ending in her body feels like it’s on fire.
A clumsy “ Ava ” falls from her lips when she reaches for her and finds that she’s managed to somehow slip southward, adding her mouth to the mix and Deborah slaps her hand down on the bed, tugging at the sheets when a pair of mischievous lips wrap around her clit and a wet tongue proceeds to coax her further until she’s all but sobbing up at the ceiling.
“Oh, fuck, Ava!”
God, if Ava was smug before, she will be insufferable after this, Deborah just knows it, but as much as she hates to admit it, it would be warranted, if the way she’s pulsating around Ava’s fingers is any indication.
“Stopstopstop,” she mumbles, pushing Ava away when she can’t take anymore, and she’s still shaking sporadically as Ava kisses her way back up her body. “Jesus christ.”
After a moment used to collect her breath, Deborah manages a, “What times is it?” and Ava throws her head back and laughs.
“What time is it?! Seriously?”
Deborah chuckles, runs a palm down her face and eventually looks up Ava, who looks happy and beautiful.
“I don’t know. I’m just trying to ground myself,” she says, pushing Ava’s hair back behind her ear.
“You’re not going to regret this later, are you?”
Deborah smiles. Earlier this evening, she would have said, yes, definitely, they would both regret this. But, now? Well, now, she can’t think of a single reason why they shouldn’t, and regret might arrive with the sunrise, but it’s not here now.
“No,” she replies. “No, come here, kiss me.”
It’s amazing, how well they fit together, how good Ava feels cradled between Deborah’s legs–it’s a wonder they hadn’t tried this sooner. Deborah glides her hands down Ava’s back as they kiss, tracing the dent of her spine, raking her nails over her ass before pulling her closer with both hands.
Ava moans into Deborah’s mouth, grinding her hips further before trailing her lips downward to nip at Deborah’s chin, to kiss along her jawline, down her neck, and just as she’s pondering eating her out again, Deborah guides her back up and soon they’re flipped so that Deborah’s the one tracing a path down Ava’s torso, and lower, one hand firmly palming Ava’s breast as she finds her way between Ava’s legs to trace her slit with her tongue.
Ava writhes and bites back a moan, hand fisted in the nearest pillow as Deborah begins to lick leisured circles around her clit, testing the pressure with the flat of her tongue up one side, and down the other. After a few excruciating moments of Deborah teasing her with the tip of her tongue, the hand on Ava’s breast moves in favor of pushing her thighs further apart and the guttural groan that comes out as Deborah flicks her tongue inside her surprises Ava. She glances down, and the image of Deborah’s head between her legs alone would send her over the edge, were it not for the perfectly paced rhythm of her tongue, Deborah’s warm breath against her cunt, and finally the welcome pressure of two fingers deftly inside her that have Ava grinding her pussy into Deborah’s relentless mouth, sobbing Deborah’s name and praising a god she doesn’t believe in while her legs shake and her vision goes dark as she succumbs to overwhelming pleasure.
Deborah likes Ava like this, she decides. She likes her spent and boneless, a trembling mess of a girl as she leaves a pair of kisses on her inner thighs before crawling back up her body to rest beside her. She likes how Ava looks at her then; breathless and dumbstruck. It’s been a long time since Deborah was with a woman last, so it’s good to know she’s still got it.
“Wow,” Ava says, licking her lips and closing her eyes to take a breath before adding, “Somewhere Marcus’s head is exploding.”
Deborah laughs softly, and stifles a yawn behind her hand, Ava following suit. Perhaps more intimate than the actual sex, is how Ava wordlessly scoots over a little to accommodate Deborah promptly after shutting the TV off, and Deborah pushes the impending freak-out to the backnurner because she’s far too comfortable in Ava’s arm’s. It would be strange to feel this safe in the arms of someone who doesn’t even have a savings account, but stranger things have happened in Deborah’s life.
When the alarm on her phone goes off not five minutes later and Ava reaches across to turn it off, Deborah doesn’t argue, though for a second she tells herself she should get up and work out but then Ava is scooting closer, wrapping her arm tighter around her and nuzzling the back of her neck.
“If you get up, I will kill you,” Ava whispers before inhaling deeply and kissing Deborah’s shoulder.
Deborah smiles to herself and closes her eyes. She’ll sleep in for the first time in who knows how long and she won’t regret a single minute, because she has a feeling that this one bad decision might do them both some good for once.