Out of Confusion and Need

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How could she have let this happen?

She’d admit to occasionally thinking about it over the years; thoughts of what if, and natural curiosity. Who didn’t, though? It was human nature.

But out of all the times that Monica had shown up at her door looking for some company, unannounced and carrying a bag take-out from their favorite Italian place, she had never once thought that it would be her.

They’d spent the evening on her couch, polishing off a few bottles of wine between the two of them, stuffing themselves with different types of pastas until neither could eat anymore. For hours they chatted and shared old childhood stories- complained about John’s never-ending over protectiveness, even if they both secretly enjoyed it- and compared horror stories from back in the days when both of them actually used to date.

With each emptied glass girlish giggles soon turned into roaring laughter and their words began to slur the drunker they got. Her mind had gone pleasantly fuzzy, a warmth flowing through her from the inside out, buzzing and swaying like a leaf on the wind.

And, that’s when she remembers feeling long fingers caress her shoulder- seeing the glint in Monica’s eyes. Her body had tensed, protest wavering on her lips, but she couldn’t seem to form the words. She’d been so lonely lately, neglected, and it had felt too good.

So, the motion continued.

She doesn’t remember a whole lot of what happened next. Like which one of them set her empty dessert bowl onto the coffee table, or feeling the couch dip when the other woman slid closer- or even the heady rush and flip of her stomach as a tentative hand had slid up her thigh.

Her only memory is the spilt second before their lips touched. The insistent press of breasts against her bicep, burning to the touch even through layers of clothing, and a fleeting thought that the Gunmen were certainly going to have quite a show when they realized what was on the security cameras they‘d installed in her apartment a few months ago.

She was going to be so embarrassed when they called tomorrow. And at that moment, she’d been too intoxicated to care.

Monica’s mouth had moved against hers slowly; hungry, insistent, and demanding. A faint hint of chocolate and berries, so soft and yielding.

Fingers tangled in hair, whimpering as kisses were trailed down her neck and teeth nipped along her collar bone.

Her whole world had spun. Headlights passing by on the street below blurred together with the lamp glowing dimly in the corner of the room. The sound of thunder and rain pounding against the window, so distant, mixing eerily together.

All she could see and hear and feel, was her.

Sweaters and t-shirts had been pulled over their heads, stomachs gliding along the other as she’d been pushed onto her back.

Lips, tongue, and fingers grazed and explored her body; nerves aflame and needy, greedily wanting more. Dana’s hips rocked impatiently against a surprisingly strong leg that had wound its way between her own, the feeling of her beneath her touch more intoxicating than she’d anticipated.

Warm breath puffed slowly across already overheated skin, making her gasp as cool air quickly followed its wake. A shiver ran through her, ears roaring with the beat of her heart, just before soft lips closed around her hardened nipple, enveloped in heat and suction.

She moaned, uninhibited and unlike she had in months. Short nails had dug into Monica’s back, leaving reddened marks and trails blazing in their wake. Arousal building and pooling, stomach fluttering in excitement.

Buttons, zippers, and clasps came next. Two pairs of jeans and underwear peeled off of two sets of shapely legs, bras unhooked and flung to the side. It was then that she realized just how jealous of the younger woman she really was.

Reyes was gorgeous.

Tanned skin, smooth and supple. Long, graceful limbs, and breasts that made her wish she had the money and courage to go through with the boob-job that she‘d always prayed for in her youth.

The woman couldn’t be more perfect.

So much bared naked flesh had her hands itching to leave nothing untouched; calves, hips, the swell of her ass, taught abs, chest.

Nipples had tightened under her palms as she cupped and kneaded. Fingers slid between parted thighs and she grinned to herself when she found her swollen and wet, bucking against her.

It had been so surreal.

Thrusting, rocking, rough and sloppy kisses. Her gasps and sighs soon mounting to silent screams as they both tensed and trembled in each other’s arms, orgasms finally coming to a peak.

Monica had collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily into her neck, and she wrapped her arms around her, clutching her tightly as they both floated back down to Earth.

Sleep would claim them soon. And she had just barely enough energy, and common sense, left to grab the blanket from the back of the couch and drape it over them to offset the chill once their bodies had cooled.

She was still confused, even after having been over it a dozen times in her mind. It wasn’t like she regretted anything they’d done, in fact, she would probably fantasize about it for years to come.

But, how could she have let this happen?

She’d been greedy, that‘s how.

Would it ruin their friendship? Could they chalk it up to a night of drunken comfort and safety in familiar arms, and just leave it at that?

Scully sighed exhaustedly, and let her eyes slip shut; willing herself to relax and simply enjoy the feeling of holding someone again.

Even if they couldn‘t come to terms with what they‘d done, or meet each other‘s gaze in the morning.

It had been worth it.

End.