sorrowandsorrow | Closed Post: #SelfCare

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Closed Post: #SelfCare

Eat your heart out, Castle Whitespire. Eat your heart out, Eliot Waugh. Janet doesn't need any of you, because she found this stupid mansion's stupid Jacuzzi all by herself. In the aftermath of the zombie uprising (by the way: what the fuck?), she must have been putting out some kind of extra desperation, caked in sweat and zombie dust and the dirt of the mansion's grounds, because as she stomped down the hallway to her bedroom, something told her to open a door. And she did. And there it was.

It was fucking glorious, and she was too selfish to wait that time, but she has a date to set up. Susan will find a neon orange Post-It stuck to the door of her room this morning that says: Found it. Meet me at seven o'clock tonight, third door on the right when you hang a left past that ugly chandelier with the swans. --J

She even doodled a little crown symbol over the letter to make her point clear.

When Susan does make her way to the room with the hot tub, she'll see Janet in a black bikini with a glass of prosecco in one hand, another frosty glass sitting on the tiles next to her hand. With that hand, she's propping herself up as she takes a sip. Her legs are dangling into the Jacuzzi already, but she hasn't switched on the jets yet.

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"Well, thank God. I would have been pretty disappointed if it was." Janet laughs, trying to imagine a consistently meek and biddable version of Susan and failing totally.

Susan tilts her head, giving Janet another once-over. "This was a good idea," she says, and then smirks. "I like these bathing costumes of the future."

Obviously it was a good idea. Janet's a genius. "These bathing costumes of the future like you," she says. She stretches; it's partially, but not entirely, a deliberate action to keep Susan's attention on her. "You're gonna have to shower later to get the chlorine off you, though -- sorry. Did they have chlorine in the '50s?"

Amused - and blatantly letting her gaze catch on the lines of Janet's body as she stretches - Susan says, "Yes, chlorine has been around my entire life." She flicks her focus to Janet's face. "I was anticipating the shower." A ghost of a smirk. "I'm not afraid of getting a little wet."

"Oh my God!" Janet laughs, delighted and probably the closest to flustered she's ever going to get. This involves covering her face with a hand, but only for a second. "I'd punch a man who said something like that to me, but from you, it's working."

"That's because I'm more charming than any man," Susan says, primly and yet blatantly smug. "Perks of being a Queen, I suppose." Then she laughs. "What if I'd simply been referencing The Wizard of Oz?"

"Oh, is that what you were doing?" Janet gives her an indulgent little smile. "I guess that would be awkward because then I'd have to explain to you why I took it the wrong way."

Susan hums. "That does sound rather awkward," she says, drawing her other leg out of the Jacuzzi, too. "I'd probably have to make even worse jokes to lighten the tone afterward."

"Hmm, be careful," Janet says lightly. "Remember how you're so much more charming than a man and your stupid lines are working on me? Don't blow it."

"Then I shall refrain," Susan says, with mock solemnity. "It would have been a dreadful joke. I should hate to lose your esteem by asking if this-" (Here, she reaches out and touches the edge of Janet's lips.) "-was the 'bonbon' part of the promised Jacuzzi experience."

Janet's smile blooms back into existence more easily than she would have expected. "You're catching on," she says, a little lower. "And just as I was about to ask if you were accepting guests for your hotly anticipated shower."

"Only fellow heads of state familiar with the operation and management of fantastical worlds, I'm afraid," Susan says, cocking her head to one side. "Do you happen to know of any who might want to join me?"

"I have great news for you." Janet finally tucks her feet up out of the tub and pulls herself to sit upright so she can make a ta-da motion with both hands. "You're in the presence of a queen, Your Majesty."

"In that case..." Susan raises an eyebrow. "My shower is your shower, Queen Janet."

"An incredible victory of diplomacy," Janet declares. She gets to her feet, tucking a few damp strands of hair behind her ears, and then glances around. "I guess we shouldn't walk through the halls half-naked. I don't want any men getting a show they don't deserve." Her own robe is hung on a hook in the corner; it's fluffy and white, like something you'd find at a fancy hotel, so she pulls it on and belts it with some satisfaction.

Susan's robe is more sleek than it is fluffy; it clings to her as she ties her belt. "Agreed," she says, though she doesn't mind drawing attention. "They might hurt themselves, tripping over their feet. We might as well be benevolent queens, and spare them the embarrassment." She offers her hand to Janet.

Without hesitating, Janet takes her hand, and laces their fingers together so there's no doubt that this is unequivocally not a platonic hand-holding situation. "Lead the way, Susan."

So Susan leads Janet to her room, and then into her bathroom. (If Janet looks around as they walk through Susan's room, she might find organized clutter: a towering stack of books next to an armchair by a window; an empty food basket on the table; a spare bikini hanging from her closet doorknob.) Her shower here is delightfully large, like no other that she's seen in her life. She starts it, and then uses her grip on Janet's hand to tug her in for a kiss.

Janet does, of course, look, but she keeps any observations to herself. Besides, she has her eye on the prize: she goes willingly into Susan's kiss with a soft exhale more of continued satisfaction than of surprise. Now that they're standing, she's taller, and she likes the way Susan has to tilt her chin up the slightest bit to fit their mouths together. As she kisses her, easy but purposeful, she reaches to tug the belt of Susan's robe loose again.

Susan smiles into the kiss as her robe falls loose. She disentangles her hand from Janet's, unknotting Janet's robe as well, then pushing the robe from her shoulders. She can feel that the water is hot now, so she shrugs off her own robe, letting it puddle on the floor, and steps backward into the shower, beckoning Janet to follow.

It's a matter of a single shrug to drop her own robe atop Susan's and to follow her into the shower. This is even more hot water, obviously, but the steam rises faster and it feels cleaner without the aforementioned chlorine, so Janet takes a second to stand by the spray, cupping her hands to collect water. She looks toward Susan, then, and the way the water is beading on her shoulders and face and collarbones, and grins.

Susan doesn't bother pretending like she hasn't been watching Janet this whole time. Janet is gorgeous, and the water of the shower obscures her figure much less than the water of the hot tub. She's tall, taller even than Susan, and fierce in a way Susan finds tremendously appealing.

If Janet were any of Susan's girlfriends back home, Susan would already be stripping off her bathing costume and letting the water run over her naked body; her friends would be doing the same. It wouldn't necessarily be for salacious reasons - in fact, unless the 'girlfriends' in question were simply just Miriam, the reasons would be innocent indeed. But Susan feels the chasm between her world and Janet's acutely in this moment. She knows how to flirt, and how to communicate intent, but not whether Janet would read a removal of Susan's top as being equally a no-pressure invitation and a casual progression of a shower the way that Susan's friends back home might.

So instead - because Susan does know how to communicate intent - she rests one hand at the dip of Janet's waist.

"Hi," Janet says, stepping closer. Everything's warm, so of course Susan's hand is, too, but the weight of it sparks a little something pleasant in her gut. Her smile softens, less triumphant and more thoughtfully intent. She likes Susan enough that she cares about getting this right, about rising to meet her in a way that leaves them open for whatever comes afterward. "We can just literally shower together if you want. I won't be offended. Or I can take off this stupid bikini that barely leaves anything to the imagination. Up to you."

Susan hesitates for the barest of seconds, and then steps away to pull off her own bikini; Janet can choose for herself. "This needn't go further than what we have already done," she says busily, as she hangs her top over a bit of railing. "It can. I would like it to." She likes sex, and she likes Janet, and -- crucially -- she's having fun. "But it needn't be right away."

"Yeah," Janet says, suddenly and very briefly breathless with distraction. She gets over it pretty quick, reaching behind herself to unknot her own bikini top and toss it to hang over the side of the shower. "Last time I fucked someone immediately, it eventually turned out kind of bad. I'm not suggesting a lot of waiting -- trust me, I'm not." She laughs, then kicks off the bottom half of her bathing suit and chucks it in the same direction as the top. "But a little anticipation isn't the worst thing in the world."

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