fic: passage (1/10) (elle/claire)
Title: Passage (1/10)
Rating: NC-17 (language, disturbing imagery, graphic sex)
Pairing: Elle/Claire; side Adam/Elle, Adam/Claire
Timeline: Post-“ So”
Prompt: “lust” at 10_themes
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing with them
Teaser: Ten stages between one thing and the next, between lust and love.
1, lust
Noah gives Elle money every month for the work she does with him, a physical reward for the control she’s slowly learning, keeps an eye on what she buys through the receipts (and makes her handle the numbers because she’s not very good at math and he wants to fix that) but lets her have her freedom.
At first she buys only what she needs, clothes and shoes.
Then she notices Claire when their nightly ritual in the living room starts- and finally notices the other things that girls would wear to get attention from people they were interested in, jewelry that catches the light and make-up that she’s sure would make her look stupid if she ever tried to wear it.
She’s noticed the other things before but not like this.
She’s dressed up when she worked for her father but not like this.
This is different.
So she starts to actually read all the girly magazines she used to get just for the pictures, reads about how to get a boy only to be frustrated because it’s a girl she wants.
She buys dangly earrings and colorful bands for her hair, finds new hairstyles and watches Claire when she tries each one. But Claire only pays attention to everyone else, and she never compliments her, never seems to notice.
She goes to a salon one weekend, orders a pedicure until she sees the woman coming with the footbath and then hurriedly explains that she meant a manicure, not a pedicure. She sits squirming as they snip and buff her nails, sits tense as they wash her hair and relaxes again when they start cutting, trimming off a bit that had grown too long.
She goes back to Claire with neat bangs and shining hair, nails painted dusky blue; is left thoroughly depressed when Claire doesn't blink an eye, spends the entire day draped over Noah telling him about her college classes.
Clearly Elle isn’t doing this right yet.
Elle finally has a flash of brilliance one day while working with Noah.
He’s outside getting gas (she has to go far away when he’s pumping the gas) and she walks through the convenience store grabbing what she wants, chips and beef jerky and candy, then she holds the stuff in one arm as she fills up the largest cup they have with Slush-O and gets one for Noah too.
The guy at the cash register is working through the pile of munchies when she notices the magazines lining the wall behind him, pausing in her restless fidgeting when she notices what’s on one. There’s a plastic sheet on top but it’s crooked, and she can see the swell of a bare breast, the blonde on the cover staring back at her with intense eyes.
She looks nothing like Claire but the reaction is instant, her body tightening, heating.
“I want that,” she decides and the guy doesn’t even blink, holding up a hand in a question of which one. She wants the one she can see but she takes a moment to look over them all, finding two redheads and a brunette in addition to another blonde. “All of them,” she blurts, deciding that there’s got to be a blonde in each one anyway.
The guy gives her an odd look but obeys, grabbing one of each and passing them over.
The blonde’s on top, staring up at Elle heatedly from between her fingers.
These are guy magazines.
Noah’s out with the Haitian so she makes sure the chain is in the door (she’d die if he walked in on her while she’s doing something) and starts flipping through one, finding glossy pictures of women. Most she flips past, finding them too skinny, bodies lacking the curves that make Claire’s body so much fun to explore when Claire is in a good mood and will let her.
She stops after a few minutes, swallowing at a spread of a blonde posed on the edge of a bed, legs opened wide and sheet twined around her in a way that’s completely useless. Her breasts are the right size, and Elle squeezes her legs together, wishing she could see Claire like this, lazy and naked.
But the sex isn’t like that.
She’s never even seen Claire completely naked, has seen only what she can glimpse during the act itself.
The romance books that Elle loves so much always talk about the hero and his heroine making love, talk about how they join bodies and then whisper sweet nothings into the dark as they always come together perfectly.
It’s not like that when they’re together.
Claire’s brutal, pins her so that she can’t move and drives fingers deep in a quick rhythm that always brings Elle hard, body burning down into what feels like nothing. Even when Claire goes down on her, blonde hair tickling her thighs and palms keeping her still, it’s rough, ends in bruises that span her hips and a vague ache when Claire finally pulls away.
Claire does things to her no one else has, doesn’t stop until she’s finished.
It’s not sex, it’s fucking.
Adam had explained that difference once and now, wet as she grips a magazine, she gets it.
Maybe that’s the problem- Elle’s approaching this wrong.
Elle goes to the sex store near the college.
She’s always liked wandering around sex stores, is endlessly amused by all the toys and the clothes, likes imagining what it would be like to play with the handcuffs but doesn’t know how to handle the dildos except to stare at them.
Today, after an hour of wandering, she starts actually shopping.
She knows how to have sex, doesn’t need instructions.
But still, she’s trying to do this right.
So she looks through instruction manuals about lesbian sex and chooses two that she clutches tight to her chest; she starts going through the movies and gets a little too excited when she finds one about a blonde cheerleader. She thinks about a few of the things in the instruction manual and ends up grabbing an armful of lube when she can’t decide which kind she wants to buy. On impulse, she grabs a pair of handcuffs, not sure if she wants to wear them or get them on Claire instead.
She kind of… likes being fucked but still, she wants to do this right.
And she’s not even sure how she’s going to get Claire to try some of this stuff but she’s going to try.
Even if Noah does ends up shooting her when he inevitably walks in on them.
Well, unless Noah already knows.
…no, that’s crazy.
Elle keeps her sex stuff in a locked metal box under her bed with the gun she doesn't actually need for work.
She never has a chance to suggest anything though, always finds Claire climbing into bed with her and straddling her, has to focus on not starting a goddamn fire as she comes apart under the younger woman.
When they’re not having sex, Claire’s nasty to her, verbal cruelty that Noah puts down every time.
She tries to look nice, but she never gets a compliment.
She tries to compliment Claire, but gets her head bit off for her efforts.
Some days, Claire will simply ignore her.
Those are far more painful than the days when Claire’s just a nasty bitch.
“What did you do in school today, pompom?”
“College,” Claire corrects deprecatingly, elbow deep in soapy water and looking blank. “I’m a big girl, remember?”
The rest of the house is quiet, the backyard dark outside the window, and Elle steps closer to lean a hip against the counter and stare at Claire’s face, not sure what to make of the vacant stare that Claire has settled on the dishes she’s washing.
It’s freaking her out a little.
“Want to have sex?”
Claire freezes for a moment before she gives Elle a disgusted look, mouth twisting.
“I was just asking.” She took another step closer, nudging Claire’s hip with her own. “They’re all out of the house.”
“They’ll be back soon.”
“We only need a few minutes.”
Something flickers across Claire’s features- but then it’s gone and she wonders if she made it up.
Acting on impulse, she reaches out and hooks a finger through a belt loop in Claire’s jeans, tugging.
“We haven’t even had sex outside the bedroom yet-”
Claire jerks away, dropping the wet bowl into the sink and shoving at Elle with dripping hands, face twisted. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands when Elle just gapes, stunned. “Every time I turn around, you’re staring at me, watching me- What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I was just-”
“Shut up!” Claire explodes, and shoves at her again, so hard that Elle staggers back a step. “Go away!”
Water sticking her tank top to her chest, sink of it scaring her a little more than it should, Elle shoves her back, baffled when Claire slaps at her in the same moment, a vague but completely real attempt to strike her. This is nothing new but it is at the same time, and she panics before she can stop herself, throws her weight behind the next shove because she wants to hurt the stupid crazy bitch that she can’t understand anymore.
She’s startled when Claire slips on the water on the floor, goes down hard with a shout of surprise.
Shit.
There’s a horrible moment as Claire wipes at her eyes, pushes hair from her face.
“Claire…”
“Don’t.” She grabs the counter, pulls herself to her feet.
“Did I do something wrong?”
It’s the only thing that makes sense- she’s fucked it up somehow, done something wrong.
A frustrated noise spills out of Claire as she steps forward and grabs Elle’s arms, squeezes tight. “Stop,” Claire orders bluntly, pushing her body against Elle’s until her back hits the kitchen island and she swallows nervously. “It doesn’t matter,” she adds, hands dropping to Elle's tank top, pushing damp material up to possessively span her palms against her belly. “Forget about it.”
And she crushes her mouth against Elle’s to shut her up when Elle tries to ask what’s wrong.
Rating: NC-17 (language, disturbing imagery, graphic sex)
Pairing: Elle/Claire; side Adam/Elle, Adam/Claire
Timeline: Post-“ So”
Prompt: “lust” at 10_themes
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing with them
Teaser: Ten stages between one thing and the next, between lust and love.
1, lust
Noah gives Elle money every month for the work she does with him, a physical reward for the control she’s slowly learning, keeps an eye on what she buys through the receipts (and makes her handle the numbers because she’s not very good at math and he wants to fix that) but lets her have her freedom.
At first she buys only what she needs, clothes and shoes.
Then she notices Claire when their nightly ritual in the living room starts- and finally notices the other things that girls would wear to get attention from people they were interested in, jewelry that catches the light and make-up that she’s sure would make her look stupid if she ever tried to wear it.
She’s noticed the other things before but not like this.
She’s dressed up when she worked for her father but not like this.
This is different.
So she starts to actually read all the girly magazines she used to get just for the pictures, reads about how to get a boy only to be frustrated because it’s a girl she wants.
She buys dangly earrings and colorful bands for her hair, finds new hairstyles and watches Claire when she tries each one. But Claire only pays attention to everyone else, and she never compliments her, never seems to notice.
She goes to a salon one weekend, orders a pedicure until she sees the woman coming with the footbath and then hurriedly explains that she meant a manicure, not a pedicure. She sits squirming as they snip and buff her nails, sits tense as they wash her hair and relaxes again when they start cutting, trimming off a bit that had grown too long.
She goes back to Claire with neat bangs and shining hair, nails painted dusky blue; is left thoroughly depressed when Claire doesn't blink an eye, spends the entire day draped over Noah telling him about her college classes.
Clearly Elle isn’t doing this right yet.
Elle finally has a flash of brilliance one day while working with Noah.
He’s outside getting gas (she has to go far away when he’s pumping the gas) and she walks through the convenience store grabbing what she wants, chips and beef jerky and candy, then she holds the stuff in one arm as she fills up the largest cup they have with Slush-O and gets one for Noah too.
The guy at the cash register is working through the pile of munchies when she notices the magazines lining the wall behind him, pausing in her restless fidgeting when she notices what’s on one. There’s a plastic sheet on top but it’s crooked, and she can see the swell of a bare breast, the blonde on the cover staring back at her with intense eyes.
She looks nothing like Claire but the reaction is instant, her body tightening, heating.
“I want that,” she decides and the guy doesn’t even blink, holding up a hand in a question of which one. She wants the one she can see but she takes a moment to look over them all, finding two redheads and a brunette in addition to another blonde. “All of them,” she blurts, deciding that there’s got to be a blonde in each one anyway.
The guy gives her an odd look but obeys, grabbing one of each and passing them over.
The blonde’s on top, staring up at Elle heatedly from between her fingers.
These are guy magazines.
Noah’s out with the Haitian so she makes sure the chain is in the door (she’d die if he walked in on her while she’s doing something) and starts flipping through one, finding glossy pictures of women. Most she flips past, finding them too skinny, bodies lacking the curves that make Claire’s body so much fun to explore when Claire is in a good mood and will let her.
She stops after a few minutes, swallowing at a spread of a blonde posed on the edge of a bed, legs opened wide and sheet twined around her in a way that’s completely useless. Her breasts are the right size, and Elle squeezes her legs together, wishing she could see Claire like this, lazy and naked.
But the sex isn’t like that.
She’s never even seen Claire completely naked, has seen only what she can glimpse during the act itself.
The romance books that Elle loves so much always talk about the hero and his heroine making love, talk about how they join bodies and then whisper sweet nothings into the dark as they always come together perfectly.
It’s not like that when they’re together.
Claire’s brutal, pins her so that she can’t move and drives fingers deep in a quick rhythm that always brings Elle hard, body burning down into what feels like nothing. Even when Claire goes down on her, blonde hair tickling her thighs and palms keeping her still, it’s rough, ends in bruises that span her hips and a vague ache when Claire finally pulls away.
Claire does things to her no one else has, doesn’t stop until she’s finished.
It’s not sex, it’s fucking.
Adam had explained that difference once and now, wet as she grips a magazine, she gets it.
Maybe that’s the problem- Elle’s approaching this wrong.
Elle goes to the sex store near the college.
She’s always liked wandering around sex stores, is endlessly amused by all the toys and the clothes, likes imagining what it would be like to play with the handcuffs but doesn’t know how to handle the dildos except to stare at them.
Today, after an hour of wandering, she starts actually shopping.
She knows how to have sex, doesn’t need instructions.
But still, she’s trying to do this right.
So she looks through instruction manuals about lesbian sex and chooses two that she clutches tight to her chest; she starts going through the movies and gets a little too excited when she finds one about a blonde cheerleader. She thinks about a few of the things in the instruction manual and ends up grabbing an armful of lube when she can’t decide which kind she wants to buy. On impulse, she grabs a pair of handcuffs, not sure if she wants to wear them or get them on Claire instead.
She kind of… likes being fucked but still, she wants to do this right.
And she’s not even sure how she’s going to get Claire to try some of this stuff but she’s going to try.
Even if Noah does ends up shooting her when he inevitably walks in on them.
Well, unless Noah already knows.
…no, that’s crazy.
Elle keeps her sex stuff in a locked metal box under her bed with the gun she doesn't actually need for work.
She never has a chance to suggest anything though, always finds Claire climbing into bed with her and straddling her, has to focus on not starting a goddamn fire as she comes apart under the younger woman.
When they’re not having sex, Claire’s nasty to her, verbal cruelty that Noah puts down every time.
She tries to look nice, but she never gets a compliment.
She tries to compliment Claire, but gets her head bit off for her efforts.
Some days, Claire will simply ignore her.
Those are far more painful than the days when Claire’s just a nasty bitch.
“What did you do in school today, pompom?”
“College,” Claire corrects deprecatingly, elbow deep in soapy water and looking blank. “I’m a big girl, remember?”
The rest of the house is quiet, the backyard dark outside the window, and Elle steps closer to lean a hip against the counter and stare at Claire’s face, not sure what to make of the vacant stare that Claire has settled on the dishes she’s washing.
It’s freaking her out a little.
“Want to have sex?”
Claire freezes for a moment before she gives Elle a disgusted look, mouth twisting.
“I was just asking.” She took another step closer, nudging Claire’s hip with her own. “They’re all out of the house.”
“They’ll be back soon.”
“We only need a few minutes.”
Something flickers across Claire’s features- but then it’s gone and she wonders if she made it up.
Acting on impulse, she reaches out and hooks a finger through a belt loop in Claire’s jeans, tugging.
“We haven’t even had sex outside the bedroom yet-”
Claire jerks away, dropping the wet bowl into the sink and shoving at Elle with dripping hands, face twisted. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands when Elle just gapes, stunned. “Every time I turn around, you’re staring at me, watching me- What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I was just-”
“Shut up!” Claire explodes, and shoves at her again, so hard that Elle staggers back a step. “Go away!”
Water sticking her tank top to her chest, sink of it scaring her a little more than it should, Elle shoves her back, baffled when Claire slaps at her in the same moment, a vague but completely real attempt to strike her. This is nothing new but it is at the same time, and she panics before she can stop herself, throws her weight behind the next shove because she wants to hurt the stupid crazy bitch that she can’t understand anymore.
She’s startled when Claire slips on the water on the floor, goes down hard with a shout of surprise.
Shit.
There’s a horrible moment as Claire wipes at her eyes, pushes hair from her face.
“Claire…”
“Don’t.” She grabs the counter, pulls herself to her feet.
“Did I do something wrong?”
It’s the only thing that makes sense- she’s fucked it up somehow, done something wrong.
A frustrated noise spills out of Claire as she steps forward and grabs Elle’s arms, squeezes tight. “Stop,” Claire orders bluntly, pushing her body against Elle’s until her back hits the kitchen island and she swallows nervously. “It doesn’t matter,” she adds, hands dropping to Elle's tank top, pushing damp material up to possessively span her palms against her belly. “Forget about it.”
And she crushes her mouth against Elle’s to shut her up when Elle tries to ask what’s wrong.