Closed Post: The Three-Date Rule

[sorrowandsorrow]

Maybe it's some kind of character growth, or something, that Janet can admit to herself she's a little bit nervous. It's embarrassing, but it would be stupid to pretend otherwise. It's also bizarre, because she hasn't been nervous about a date since she was a first year at Brakebills and Sebastien from the five-zillion-generations-of-magic family asked her out. (He turned out to be a dick. Quelle surprise.)

Anyway. The point is, she's kind of nervous, because Susan is meeting her here in T-minus not that many minutes, and this is undeniably date number three, and Janet's not supposed to give a shit about how it goes, but she can also admit to herself that she really wants it to go well. She blow-dried her hair, for Christ's sake. That was the first blow-dryer she'd seen in years, but apparently the mansion could tell she needed one. She's still in jeans, but they're nice ones, dark wash and everything. Her blouse is wine-red and off the shoulder. Basically, she's taken the whole date night thing to heart.

She's in one of the nicer lounges, one with some atmospheric exposed brick and expensive-looking furniture. There's a bottle of what she's about ninety-seven percent sure is real Fillorian wine on the table in front of her, along with two clean and empty wineglasses. There are no words on the label of the bottle, but there is a sigil of two rams' heads, which makes her irritable and nostalgic at the exact same time. Her legs are crossed, ladylike as hell, and her boots are freshly polished.

[NSFW!]

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[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet lets herself have one more fierce, private smile, not that Susan will see it, before she bends to her work. Susan's so fucking wet by now, hot and open for her, and it's the easiest thing in the world to slip two fingers of her own inside her, her tongue moving quickly and forcefully from the outset.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Oh, Susan rather likes that! She lets herself relax into the feeling of it - by some value of relax; her hips keep twitching up toward Janet's mouth almost as if they're operating independently of her increasingly-fragmented thoughts.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Those abortive little movements make Janet want to smile again, but now she really is busy. She slips a hand along Susan's slippery thigh, squeezing the muscle there, and sets a slow, purposeful rhythm with her fingers that offsets the uncareful enthusiasm with which she's eating her out.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

There's another quiet little exhale, and Susan shifts against Janet's mouth, desperation ratcheting up inside of her. Her heel catches on Janet's back, and then slips off; she moves a hand up to pinch her own nipple, twisting it roughly, mouthing against the open air.

[sorrowandsorrow]

"C'mon, Your Majesty," Janet murmurs, just a second or two of only her warm breath against Susan before she's back at it. She can feel Susan twitching against and beneath and around her, spurring her on, and if there's one thing about Janet, it's that her fingers are strong and that they know how to move with precision, curling just so in counterpoint to her tongue.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan hasn't watched Janet do a huge amount of magic, but she's seen a few spells here and there, so she knows just how much precision and control Janet has over her hands, and the way that she uses them. She's gaining an intimate understanding, now, of another use of that control. Heat lances through her, tight and fierce; she feels weak with it. She shifts against Janet's tongue again, bites her lip hard, and lets that desperate yawning need at her core overtake her. Her orgasm feels like a shattering, broken open under Janet's masterful touch.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet keeps fingering Susan through it, the flat of her tongue to her clit still, to feel the liquid trembling of her like spilled mercury as she comes. It's been a while, longer than she'd really like to admit, since she's done this for another woman. It's heady, a kind of fundamental power you can't get from any magic textbook. With time, as Susan stills, she looks up, slipping her fingers out -- not all the way free of her, but more shallow.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Come here," Susan says, reaching out and scrabbling at Janet's shoulder. Her thighs are twitching. Her clit is twitching. She's far too blissed-out to be self-conscious about whether she's using a tired old line or not. "Let me taste myself on your tongue."

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet almost wants to give her shit for it. Not as much as she wants to pull herself up at Susan's urging, curl a hand around her jaw, and maneuver her into a kiss, one that's deep and thorough from the second their mouths fit together.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan's kiss is hungry, tempered only by the limblessness she feels in the wake of her orgasm. She rests a hand heavy on Janet's waist, stroking at it with tiny little movements of her fingers.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet lets it be a long kiss, one where she shifts encouragingly into the firm pressure of Susan's palm, one where she cups her hand around Susan's face and strokes back a few strands of slightly sweaty hair. It's a while before they come apart, and Janet's smiling when they do, just self-aware enough to remember that she should keep it on the restrained side. "Not to toot my own horn, but this might've been worth the wait."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Yes," Susan agrees, reaching up and taking Janet's hand in her own, tangling their fingers together. "...Though I must admit, I rather hope we don't wait that long again."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Fuck no," Janet says. She snorts out a laugh. "All accusations of sainthood aside..."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Do you know, I expect there were any number of impatient saints," Susan says, thoughtfully.

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Yeah, I just went down on one of them. You think I'd forget Saint Susan the Enduring so quickly?" There's another quick little grin.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan pulls Janet closer. "I am a picture of restraint and grace."

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet goes to her, finally slipping her fingers free with a little reluctance so that she can tuck that same hand around Susan's hip. They'll both need showers, probably. Her bedclothes will definitely need to be changed. That doesn't really matter in the face of pressing a firm and decisive kiss to Susan's mouth. "Queen, saint, hot archer... what can't she do."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Grow ice axes at the end of my staves," Susan says, promptly, rolling closer to Janet. Her next kiss is lazier, and savoring.

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Oh, gotcha," Janet says, languid in the aftermath of that kiss as she stretches out along Susan. "So that's why you have to keep me around."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Among other things," Susan allows. She traces a finger along the edge of Janet's lower lip, then sighs, bone-deep satisfied.

[sorrowandsorrow]

There's a persistent smile that keeps making its way back onto Janet's face. Usually, when she smiles, it's on purpose; it's part of a deliberate offense she's mounting. This one's barely even listening to her. She reaches to tuck Susan's hair behind her ear. "Yeah, like my encyclopedic knowledge of welters and my great taste in wine."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"For example."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Sure. We can't list them all. We'll be here all night."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Tempt me, why don't you," says Susan, a smile spreading slowly across her face.

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Aw." Janet fans her fingers against Susan's side. "If you insist." She says it lightly, as if it doesn't matter to her whether Susan does or doesn't stay longer.