fic: Hide Your Passions In Between
If you want something done, clearly the only answer is forcing someone to do it with you! Therefore there was accosting on Gchat.
Hide Your Passions In Between by preromantics and unlurkster
Eva Rodríguez/Sasha Cohen
NC-17
4683 words
This is Eva Rodríguez from Center Stage, who was the best damn thing about that sad, sad (yet totally awesome) movie. She was played by Zoe Saldana. This is Sasha Cohen. She is a figure skater. She is extremely bendy. As for the rest -- well, there is no excuse. And yet I TOTALLY SHIP IT. strange_bt_true thought of it first, too.
Title from Hawksley Workman. Obviously this is all made up.
"Ballet," Eva said. "Lots of bitchy people." she leaned forward and quirked her mouth at Sasha. "The straight dudes especially."
Eva knew it was fucking stupid to go out alone, but sometimes she needed time out from all the crap ABA threw at people, and she didn't want to be with other people. She knew she should have asked someone along -- but Maureen had said, "We need to be in the best shape possible," and for once Jody had smiled and nodded, too excited about her lead part to say anything. She'd made I'm sorry puppy-eyes at Eva, though, and Eva hadn't even bothered to say it was cool, just grabbed her jacket and walked out. She didn't want any fucking ballerinas on her night out.
She knew they probably looked at her as she walked down the hall, didn't think she'd actually go. Maureen probably said something that would've made Eva angry, something about keeping her figure, or not being so reckless, and Eva wouldn't have wanted to hear it anyway. So she held her shoulders high, perfect form, and walked out into the muggy night air of the city.
---
The bar she walked into wasn't her favourite. Usually she liked places with a bit more buzz and noise, with a wide floor where you could get down and dirty and just dance, but she didn't even feel like doing that tonight. She unwrapped a piece of gum and started smacking away at it obnoxiously, the way that always made her mother wince, and stared blankly at the bartender when it was her turn for drinks and ordered a mangotini. Fancy white folks with their fucking fancy alcoholic drinks -- she didn't really get what that was all about. But she knew how to drink. She still remembered when they'd all gotten plastered and Maureen had had a hangover the day after -- god, those had been good times. Eva hadn't had a hangover, obviously. She'd still got thrown out of class anyway.
There was another lady at the bar who kept looking at her, and Eva stared back. As her drink came the woman turned to her, pale and dark-haired and princessy, and said, "You're going to ruin the taste of the drink, with that gum."
She felt just a little bit reckless, just like sometimes she always felt just a little bit unwanted, a little bit too fucking good for every place she went where people didn't notice her, at least not for the right reasons. This girl -- woman, almost, although her cheeks were a little pink with alcohol, and she looked young, the twist of her lips a little bitter like how Eva felt -- she'd noticed Eva in this dive of a bar.
"I know how to drink, thanks," Eva said, but she didn't say it maliciously. She slid over a barstool so there was only one between them.
The whole thing was so fucking weird -- she came here to get away from people, and now she was striking up a conversation with a complete stranger. It felt good though -- easy, uncomplicated, nice to banter with someone who wasn't hoping you'd break your leg, at the back of their mind. Eva missed home, even though she'd probably be back in Boston soon enough. Working at Hooters for six bucks an hour, with assholes who felt you up every three dollars. But maybe the problem wasn't talking to people per se -- just talking to people who were goddamn neurotic headcases about dancing.
This girl seemed okay, dry twist of lips when Eva told her she could drink. Eva tried not to think if she could sense any gay vibes, but it'd been so long. "I'm sure you do," she said. "How old are you -- eighteen?"
Eva was torn between taking offense at her question and, through the tiny bit of her mind that had been drilled into by the dance academy, where looking young and being thin were the two best things you could be told, a little reluctantly pleased. "I'm sure I'm old enough to drink you under the table," Eva said with a smile. She downed most of her drink for effect, and the girl laughed, a low but nice sort of laugh.
"I'm sure we shouldn't find out," she said. "I'm always being told I should be good and not drink, but tonight --" she paused, and Eva leaned forward just slightly to listen.
She didn't seem like she was going to finish her thought, though, so Eva just sat back and finished her drink in two more sips. "I'm Eva," she said. "I -- I dance."
"Oh," the girl said. "I'm Sasha, and I’m a figure skater!" and she sounded like Eva should want to know more about that, like she should lean forward and ask something like, oh is that hard, oh, did you ever go to the Olympics -- and fuck that shit. Eva flagged the bartender and ordered another round for the both of them, and turned back to Sasha and smiled at her, tucking her hair behind her ears. There was a pause.
"So, dancing," Sasha said. "What kind?" and by the way she was raking her eyes up and down Eva's body -- Eva had seen instances of the up-down occuring with one hundred percent more frequency since she joined the ABA, but this was different. Yeah, she thought, definitely interested. Eva prided herself on being able to read people. She was -- she was a lot of things, and she was also definitely interested.
"Ballet," Eva said. "Lots of bitchy people." she leaned forward and quirked her mouth at Sasha. "The straight dudes especially."
Sasha raised an eyebrow back, and the set of her mouth was definitely pleased. Eva was definitely interested, now.
"We've got those too," Sasha said. Her eyes were still moving, exploring Eva's body -- something Eva was proud of. She knew how to present herself, how to focus on her lines, and also how to let go. Eva wondered how much Sasha had been drinking before Eva showed up, because the gloss in her eyes was alluring, almost -- bright. The flush on her cheeks looked normal, and maybe it was permanent. That was probably what it looked like when she was out on the ice in the cold.
Eva felt somewhat on equal ground, although she never felt equal to anyone. Too many standards, too many fucking things to live up to that she didn't care about. But, this girl, Sasha -- she seemed different. Eva looked at her, too, at the lines of her shoulders, which weren't quite the same as a dancer’s but were still held with grace. The way her collar bones dipped in, how she held her neck.
"Tell me something," Eva said, deliberately leaving it open-ended, wondering what Sasha might say.
"Something," Sasha said, and looked at her with eyes bright like she was laughing at Eva. She took a gulp of her drink and Eva said, "Oh, if we're going to go that way --" remembering to tone it down halfway. It'd been so long since she'd met someone whom she didn't want to punch in the face a little bit at least, Erik notwithstanding. Too long since she'd gone out gaying too, because apparently she'd forgotten that the ladies didn't like it when you were rude. Some guys were excited by it, looked at her like she turned them on after she mouthed off. She was sick of that. She wasn't anyone's talking doll.
Sasha laughed though, in a way that tipped her head back, exposed her throat. "Are we?" she asked, "Because I wasn't sure."
Eva took a sip from her new drink, and this one tasted stronger. She looked at Sasha over the rim, wondering how far to take it. After she swallowed, looked at the way Sasha was sitting straight, almost defensively, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, well. Eva didn't care how far she took it, and she was pretty sure Sasha wouldn't care, either, if she was reading her right.
"We are," Eva said. "I am if you are."
Sasha leaned in, close enough that Eva could feel a little bit of her exhale on her own neck. "It's like we're talking in code," Sasha said, grinning. She leaned in closer, the tip of her nose just brushing the skin where Eva's shoulder rose up to her neck.
Eva wasn't one for code. She liked things out in the open, where they belonged. If people were being assholes, she liked saying so. If they were going to have sex, she liked saying so too. She was sick and tired of leaving things unspoken. "We'll have to go back to your place," she said, getting up. Sasha paid the bill hastily, and followed. "I live in a dorm."
---
Outside, Eva led, even though she didn't know where they were going. She pulled out her smokes and lit up, and Sasha said, "Can I have one too?" and Eva raised her eyebrows.
"I didn't know athletes were allowed to smoke," she said, and Sasha raised an eyebrow right back. "I didn't know ballet dancers could, either," and Eva didn't say that it was an appetite suppressant. They walked quietly along the street as the cars roared past, and Eva sucked on her cigarette, drawing hard. She tried to think about the sex she was about to have, but that made her nervous. She tried not to think about the auditions.
"Penny for your thoughts," Sasha said absent-mindedly, trying to hail a cab. Eva didn't say anything, just threw her half-smoked cigarette down on the street, grinding it under her heel. She leaned over to kiss Sasha, who tipped her head up almost as if it was an automatic reaction.
Sasha's lips were nice, slick already -- she must have dipped her tongue out to lick them while Eva wasn't looking, and the thought of the movement of her tongue made Eva just a tiny bit more nervous, but also more anxious to get to where ever they were headed. She wanted to back Sasha up to something, up against a wall or a lamp pole, but Sasha leaned back from her, mouth parted in another invitation that Eva wanted to take.
"We should get --" Sasha started, but Eva had already turned and was hailing a cab, watching one come to a stop as Sasha cut off her own sentence.
Eva turned back to Sasha with a quick grin. "That's how it's done," Eva said.
"Yeah," Sasha said, but she didn't look too impressed. Eva didn't expect her to, she hated that. She liked that Sasha didn't.
"So get inside," Sasha said, pressing forward, for one second pressing herself all the way against Eva's back, heat running down Eva's spine before Sasha slipped in the backseat of the cab first.
Sasha gave the address. "Fancy, huh," Eva said, and Sasha gave her a look that said, we don't talk about money. Why was it that the ones who had it never wanted to talk about it? This was America, for god's sake. All hail capitalism, and so on. Eva slumped moodily against the seat of the cab, and looked out of the window, feigning indifference. Sasha's hand grazed at Eva's knuckles, unexpectedly, and Eva had to turn around, had to look. That was when Sasha leaned over, prowling almost, and took Eva's face between her hands and kissed her hard.
Eva didn't particularly care about the cab driver. So he got a free show, just like every other sleaze in a bar who watched her dance like she was being paid. She liked dancing. She liked kissing girls in the backseats of cabs in the middle of the city, she liked reaching around Sasha to wrap her fingers around the back of her neck, half-tangled in her hair, hauling her closer. She liked the way Sasha leaned over even further, practically in Eva's lap, and made a little noise when Eva bit just lightly into Sasha's bottom lip.
Their mouths must have both tasted like shit -- logically, Eva knew this. Alcohol and cigarettes, the stuff of PG-rated vice. But it tasted so heady, even better than the weed she'd tried one time; that just made her feel sleepy. Beneath that Sasha tasted of salt and herself. Eva ran her tongue over Sasha's teeth and Sasha angled her mouth to allow her even better access.
They were so into it that Eva didn't even realise they'd arrived until the cab pulled to a stop. This time she paid as Sasha got out first and stood primly at the sidewalk waiting for her. "Have a good night, ladies," the cab driver said, and Eva didn't even bother with an angry remark, because she just wasn't pissed off. She held up her middle finger so he could see it through the rearview mirror, gave her best smile and scrambled out.
---
Sasha's place had an elevator up to her apartment, of course it did. The things money bought you, Eva thought, not very charitably. She didn't see much of the elevator, though, because as soon as they stepped inside Eva backed Sasha up against the wall of it, not caring about the too-clean stale air that was so unlike the city outside. She only cared about the way Sasha was arching her back up into Eva under her hands and the way she was dragging her hand up Eva's side, pressing her fingers above Eva's ribs, right above her breast.
The elevator dinged in the back of Eva's awareness, and then Sasha was hauling her forward, digging through her small and probably expensive purse for her key as Eva leaned against the side of the door, admiring the dark, slick color Sasha's lips had turned. She did that and she was fucking proud of it and she wanted to do more of it, wanted to find out the power Sasha had in her thighs from skating while they were wrapped around Eva's head, maybe. Maybe everything.
"Shoes off," Sasha said bossily, still digging in her purse, and Eva shrugged and took her best heels off. She could bet they weren't going to be stolen, left outside this apartment, anyway.
Sasha had dug out her key and was unlocking the door while untoeing her own flats, and Eva looked down. Not on purpose, but by coincidence. Sasha turned her head and saw Eva looking down, and said, "Oh." she knew what Eva was looking at. Their feet were blistered and callused to a similar degree, in different places.
"Skates," Sasha said, simply, as she unlocked the door and pushed it forward, stepping inside.
"Ballet shoes," Eva said back, and Sasha gripped her wrist and pulled her forward, not even bothering with the lights.
"Off," she said, this time indicating Eva's jacket, which Eva shrugged off, pulling her shirt over her head with it. She was proud of her body, she didn't care what the hell anyone had to say about standards most of the time. She knew it made people look, that people appreciated the tone she had to her arms, her stomach.
"You too," Eva said, and instead of waiting for Sasha to take off her own shirt, Eva pulled it off for her, watching the muscles of Sasha's stomach flex as she sucked in, just a little.
It wasn't her room, and it wasn't her house, but Eva didn't have any compunctions about pushing Sasha back onto the bed once that was done, pushing up her red skirt and just leaning down to lick at Sasha through her underwear. Sasha moaned, and Eva looked up. Her eyes were closed, and when Eva closed her hands on the sides of Sasha's hips, thumb dipping down into the sides of her underwear, Sasha got the hint and lifted her hips so Eva could get it off. Sasha’s skirt was still around her waist but Eva didn't bother about that, just leaned down and started with her tongue again, alternating licks and sucks around Sasha's clit.
Eva liked going down on girls, it made her feel powerful to feel their hips rising while she licked. Sasha kept remarkable control, just spreading her legs as wide as she could on the bed, giving Eva more room to move her head, to alternate sucking on Eva's clit and then licking down her slit and dragging back up, slowly. She pressed hard with wide strokes of her tongue, pointing it when she got back up to Sasha's clit and rolling it between her lips before sucking, hard, trying to get Sasha to make noises, to buck her hips up.
She did, too, leaning up into Eva's mouth and bending her knees, digging her heels into the mattress around Eva's ribs. Sasha put one of her hands down to rest on top of Eva's head, her fingers tangling into Eva's hair and pulling just slightly. Eva hated that, usually, especially with guys, always fucking needing to be in control, but right now it egged Eva on, made her press harder into Sasha, not caring that her chin was getting wet, high on the taste, the heaviness of it all.
When Sasha came she was pretty quiet. The last girl Eva'd been with -- fuck, before she left Boston, clearly, she thought to herself asininely, she'd been wasting her whole year -- had been a screamer, and that had been pretty hot. This was good too, Eva thought, as Sasha jerked and trembled around her, toes digging into Eva's back. She made a low quavery moan that sounded like she was trying to keep it back, keep it quiet. Maybe that was what she sounded like when she was getting herself off, Eva thought, and pressed against the mattress, hard. Her nipples were rubbing against the cup of her bra, and her face felt hot.
She stayed between Sasha's thighs for a moment while Sasha stretched her legs out at the knee and let them slip down again. Eva wanted to get up and just press herself against Sasha's mouth until she came, rocking, but she resisted, wanting -- selflessly, for the first time in a while -- to let Sasha make a move.
She wasn't going to wait much longer, though, and she turned her head and bit into the soft flesh of Sasha's thigh as a reminder. Sasha sat up on her elbows, grinned sideways down at Eva. "You want a turn?" she asked, and Eva rolled her eyes, bit on her own lip to keep from saying something that wouldn't help.
"Fuck, yes," she said instead, and Sasha leaned down and hauled her up under her arms, rolling them over. She pressed her hips down into Eva and Eva bucked up with a moan, didn't care about holding in noises when she wanted to make them, who cared.
"Not so loud," Sasha said, and giggled, and Eva pulled away to bite her shoulder, because she wouldn't have to be loud if Sasha could be bothered to be fast, and oh, shit, she hadn't even taken her clothes off yet. She unbuckled her bra and slid it off, ready for anything, now. She didn't look down, because she knew what Sasha was getting. She looked at herself in the mirror every day before getting in the shower, hating herself for it. She wasn't obvious like Jody or Maureen but she still fucking did it. Instead she met Sasha's eyes and looked straight back, lips pursed.
She went for the button on her own skirt but Sasha's hand met hers there, popped it and pulled the zipper down, allowing Eva room to shimmy them off, raising her hips, tugging her underwear down with them because what the hell, why not? She wanted everything Sasha would give her and she wanted it now, and she wanted it fast. Sasha made a small noise when Eva was efficiently, finally naked.
"Come on," Eva said, coaxing, a little hard.
"Coming," Sasha said, mouth twitching to show that that was a pun, was purposeful, and Eva could appreciate purpose here -- Sasha leaned forward to kiss Eva again and Eva gasped aloud, because it was just so good. Sasha broke off and reached between their bodies, hand nudging between Eva's legs. Her mouth had latched on to Eva's left nipple and it was almost too much. Eva spread her legs and huffed air out her nose, frustrated, when Sasha pressed against her slit, light and too teasing.
"Do it," Eva said, this time not bothering to hide the demand in her voice, rolling her hips down into Sasha's fingers. Sasha licked around her nipple, dragged with her teeth a little.
She slipped one finger inside as Eva rocked downwards, and it was good, so good, with Sasha's mouth on her, too. Eva kept rocking, trying to get Sasha's finger in deeper, groaning when she got a second one inside, twisting up.
"What, are you going to ride them?" Sasha asked, and she said it so normally, dark but plainly, that it was so many more times hotter than if she had said it more deliberately. Eva moaned and nodded against the top of Sasha's head, shifting to find better balance on the mattress and bucking her hips down repeatedly, definitely riding Sasha's fingers.
"Wait a moment," Sasha said, laughing, and god but Eva hated her. She stopped long enough, though, for Sasha to slip in another finger, knuckle-deep, and then things got tight and stretched and so good.
Eva groaned again and leaned backwards against Sasha, whose breasts were pressed against her shoulder blades, nearly right on target. She ground her hips against Sasha's fingers, and Sasha pressed knowingly at a certain spot, like she just knew where Eva's g-spot was, and oh.
Eva couldn't keep up her rhythm as well, and damn it, she was a dancer, she could always keep rhythm, but her thighs shook a little as Sasha kept pressing her fingers up, moving slick and hard inside her. Sasha leaned down and bit just against Eva's shoulder and then licked there, soothing.
"No marks," Eva said, even though part of her wanted to look in the mirror before her shower the next day and see a small bruise, a reminder. She didn't care, though, pressing down against Sasha's hand. Sasha's other hand reached across her stomach from behind and pressed into Eva's clit, and Eva sucked in a sharp breath as Sasha moved her fingers back and forth over it in time with the fingers inside her.
It was such an awkward position, but finally, finally Eva wasn't thinking about anything at all, and she came, loud and non-verbal, as Sasha whispered soothing things and hid her smile in Eva's shoulder.
Sasha pulled her fingers out and brought them up to her mouth, only Eva intercepted her, and kitten-licked at them. "I wasn't going to leave anything," Sasha said, as Eva came back to herself sufficiently to turn around and adjust her limbs so she was just sitting next to Sasha. "But, why, can't you stand bruises," and she said it in a way that made it sound ridiculous.
"It just isn't anyone's business," Eva snapped, and Sasha seemed to take that as an answer. They couldn't wear cardigans to class.
Sasha could wear sweaters to practice, probably. She could bundle up always and no one would care. Belatedly, it made Eva want to mark her, to suck a bruise into her skin so Sasha wouldn't forget, so she could feel Eva's tongue on her even when Eva was long gone.
"Sorry," Sasha said, after a pause. She didn't sound too apologetic.
"Don't be sorry," Eva snapped. Never be sorry, she thought. That was a stupid thing to say if you meant what you said.
"I should go," Eva added, stretching. Her bones felt tired like they did after a long day in the studio, satisfyingly so.
"Yeah," Sasha said, after a long pause. Eva was glad she didn't seem to want her to stay, glad there weren't any miscommunications. She had class the next day anyway, and -- "Back to the daily grind," she muttered, getting off the bed and pulling her underwear on halfway before realising they was absolutely wrecked. She shrugged, and just pulled on her skirt instead, balling the underwear into her fist as Sasha watched. It was a warm night. She'd survive.
---
Sasha walked her to the door, after, which Eva thought was nice, but wasn't sure she wanted that awkward goodbye at the end. "We --" Sasha started, "I might like to see you dance sometime, maybe," she said.
Eva nodded, a little thrown off. "Do you skate locally?" she asked, because she was halfway out the door and because Sasha looked nice in her robe, standing there with her hair messed up and her bare thighs peeking out from underneath the hem.
"Sometimes," Sasha said. "We could --" she paused, leaned over to rummage through a table by the door and came back with a pen. "Let me have your hand."
She wrote her number on Eva's palm, who let her do it. "Call me if you want when you are dancing. No promises, but," she said. Eva took her hand back and looked at the number there. She squinted in the light from the hallway.
"Give me your hand, too," Eva said, a little reluctant, but the ink was drying a little itchy on her palm and maybe she wanted to see Sasha skate, maybe. she'd have to think about it. She wrote her number on Sasha's hand, her fingers soft under Eva's own and then gave the pen back.
She didn't mention that she was going to be stuck in the corps in some third-rate company at five hundred a week for the rest of her life, if she got a job at all. But she wanted to tell the truth, not in the way she usually told it, loud like she didn't care, but because she really wanted Sasha to know.
"I'm not a big star," Eva said, shrugging. Sasha got a knowing look on her face, and Eva wondered just how famous she was. She didn't really pay any attention to celebrities. "Well," Sasha said, "you could just dance for me."
Eva couldn't tell if that was a come-on, but Sasha was smiling like she knew a secret, and so Eva thought she'd allow her that, for now. "We'll see," Eva said. She couldn't help the little twist of a grin that crept onto her face. Sasha nodded, once, like that was acceptable.
"Goodnight," Sasha said, and that was Eva's cue to leave, so she did, turning down the hall, bones feeling loose and light as she walked like she was dancing across the floor. She turned back to Sasha's door when she reached the elevator, but it was already closed.
Eva's fingertips were still a little sticky, just like how there was leftover come and sweat between her thighs and behind her ears. She squeezed her legs together in the elevator -- she'd have to be careful not to flash anyone, she left her underwear behind in the apartment, she remembered with a brief surge of irritation. But mostly things were good. maybe she'd go back for Erik and demand cuddles, even if it was the middle of the night. The next day would be a new one.
The elevator dinged again and when she stepped out into the city air it was welcome, washing over her, making her feel just that much more sticky. She grabbed a cab and didn't say a word to the cab driver, just gave him the address and leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes and replaying the night in her head. The next day would be a new one and it would be a better one and she'd have to be careful not to wash off Sasha's number from her palm before she remembered to write it down somewhere safe.
Hide Your Passions In Between by preromantics and unlurkster
Eva Rodríguez/Sasha Cohen
NC-17
4683 words
This is Eva Rodríguez from Center Stage, who was the best damn thing about that sad, sad (yet totally awesome) movie. She was played by Zoe Saldana. This is Sasha Cohen. She is a figure skater. She is extremely bendy. As for the rest -- well, there is no excuse. And yet I TOTALLY SHIP IT. strange_bt_true thought of it first, too.
Title from Hawksley Workman. Obviously this is all made up.
"Ballet," Eva said. "Lots of bitchy people." she leaned forward and quirked her mouth at Sasha. "The straight dudes especially."
Eva knew it was fucking stupid to go out alone, but sometimes she needed time out from all the crap ABA threw at people, and she didn't want to be with other people. She knew she should have asked someone along -- but Maureen had said, "We need to be in the best shape possible," and for once Jody had smiled and nodded, too excited about her lead part to say anything. She'd made I'm sorry puppy-eyes at Eva, though, and Eva hadn't even bothered to say it was cool, just grabbed her jacket and walked out. She didn't want any fucking ballerinas on her night out.
She knew they probably looked at her as she walked down the hall, didn't think she'd actually go. Maureen probably said something that would've made Eva angry, something about keeping her figure, or not being so reckless, and Eva wouldn't have wanted to hear it anyway. So she held her shoulders high, perfect form, and walked out into the muggy night air of the city.
---
The bar she walked into wasn't her favourite. Usually she liked places with a bit more buzz and noise, with a wide floor where you could get down and dirty and just dance, but she didn't even feel like doing that tonight. She unwrapped a piece of gum and started smacking away at it obnoxiously, the way that always made her mother wince, and stared blankly at the bartender when it was her turn for drinks and ordered a mangotini. Fancy white folks with their fucking fancy alcoholic drinks -- she didn't really get what that was all about. But she knew how to drink. She still remembered when they'd all gotten plastered and Maureen had had a hangover the day after -- god, those had been good times. Eva hadn't had a hangover, obviously. She'd still got thrown out of class anyway.
There was another lady at the bar who kept looking at her, and Eva stared back. As her drink came the woman turned to her, pale and dark-haired and princessy, and said, "You're going to ruin the taste of the drink, with that gum."
She felt just a little bit reckless, just like sometimes she always felt just a little bit unwanted, a little bit too fucking good for every place she went where people didn't notice her, at least not for the right reasons. This girl -- woman, almost, although her cheeks were a little pink with alcohol, and she looked young, the twist of her lips a little bitter like how Eva felt -- she'd noticed Eva in this dive of a bar.
"I know how to drink, thanks," Eva said, but she didn't say it maliciously. She slid over a barstool so there was only one between them.
The whole thing was so fucking weird -- she came here to get away from people, and now she was striking up a conversation with a complete stranger. It felt good though -- easy, uncomplicated, nice to banter with someone who wasn't hoping you'd break your leg, at the back of their mind. Eva missed home, even though she'd probably be back in Boston soon enough. Working at Hooters for six bucks an hour, with assholes who felt you up every three dollars. But maybe the problem wasn't talking to people per se -- just talking to people who were goddamn neurotic headcases about dancing.
This girl seemed okay, dry twist of lips when Eva told her she could drink. Eva tried not to think if she could sense any gay vibes, but it'd been so long. "I'm sure you do," she said. "How old are you -- eighteen?"
Eva was torn between taking offense at her question and, through the tiny bit of her mind that had been drilled into by the dance academy, where looking young and being thin were the two best things you could be told, a little reluctantly pleased. "I'm sure I'm old enough to drink you under the table," Eva said with a smile. She downed most of her drink for effect, and the girl laughed, a low but nice sort of laugh.
"I'm sure we shouldn't find out," she said. "I'm always being told I should be good and not drink, but tonight --" she paused, and Eva leaned forward just slightly to listen.
She didn't seem like she was going to finish her thought, though, so Eva just sat back and finished her drink in two more sips. "I'm Eva," she said. "I -- I dance."
"Oh," the girl said. "I'm Sasha, and I’m a figure skater!" and she sounded like Eva should want to know more about that, like she should lean forward and ask something like, oh is that hard, oh, did you ever go to the Olympics -- and fuck that shit. Eva flagged the bartender and ordered another round for the both of them, and turned back to Sasha and smiled at her, tucking her hair behind her ears. There was a pause.
"So, dancing," Sasha said. "What kind?" and by the way she was raking her eyes up and down Eva's body -- Eva had seen instances of the up-down occuring with one hundred percent more frequency since she joined the ABA, but this was different. Yeah, she thought, definitely interested. Eva prided herself on being able to read people. She was -- she was a lot of things, and she was also definitely interested.
"Ballet," Eva said. "Lots of bitchy people." she leaned forward and quirked her mouth at Sasha. "The straight dudes especially."
Sasha raised an eyebrow back, and the set of her mouth was definitely pleased. Eva was definitely interested, now.
"We've got those too," Sasha said. Her eyes were still moving, exploring Eva's body -- something Eva was proud of. She knew how to present herself, how to focus on her lines, and also how to let go. Eva wondered how much Sasha had been drinking before Eva showed up, because the gloss in her eyes was alluring, almost -- bright. The flush on her cheeks looked normal, and maybe it was permanent. That was probably what it looked like when she was out on the ice in the cold.
Eva felt somewhat on equal ground, although she never felt equal to anyone. Too many standards, too many fucking things to live up to that she didn't care about. But, this girl, Sasha -- she seemed different. Eva looked at her, too, at the lines of her shoulders, which weren't quite the same as a dancer’s but were still held with grace. The way her collar bones dipped in, how she held her neck.
"Tell me something," Eva said, deliberately leaving it open-ended, wondering what Sasha might say.
"Something," Sasha said, and looked at her with eyes bright like she was laughing at Eva. She took a gulp of her drink and Eva said, "Oh, if we're going to go that way --" remembering to tone it down halfway. It'd been so long since she'd met someone whom she didn't want to punch in the face a little bit at least, Erik notwithstanding. Too long since she'd gone out gaying too, because apparently she'd forgotten that the ladies didn't like it when you were rude. Some guys were excited by it, looked at her like she turned them on after she mouthed off. She was sick of that. She wasn't anyone's talking doll.
Sasha laughed though, in a way that tipped her head back, exposed her throat. "Are we?" she asked, "Because I wasn't sure."
Eva took a sip from her new drink, and this one tasted stronger. She looked at Sasha over the rim, wondering how far to take it. After she swallowed, looked at the way Sasha was sitting straight, almost defensively, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, well. Eva didn't care how far she took it, and she was pretty sure Sasha wouldn't care, either, if she was reading her right.
"We are," Eva said. "I am if you are."
Sasha leaned in, close enough that Eva could feel a little bit of her exhale on her own neck. "It's like we're talking in code," Sasha said, grinning. She leaned in closer, the tip of her nose just brushing the skin where Eva's shoulder rose up to her neck.
Eva wasn't one for code. She liked things out in the open, where they belonged. If people were being assholes, she liked saying so. If they were going to have sex, she liked saying so too. She was sick and tired of leaving things unspoken. "We'll have to go back to your place," she said, getting up. Sasha paid the bill hastily, and followed. "I live in a dorm."
---
Outside, Eva led, even though she didn't know where they were going. She pulled out her smokes and lit up, and Sasha said, "Can I have one too?" and Eva raised her eyebrows.
"I didn't know athletes were allowed to smoke," she said, and Sasha raised an eyebrow right back. "I didn't know ballet dancers could, either," and Eva didn't say that it was an appetite suppressant. They walked quietly along the street as the cars roared past, and Eva sucked on her cigarette, drawing hard. She tried to think about the sex she was about to have, but that made her nervous. She tried not to think about the auditions.
"Penny for your thoughts," Sasha said absent-mindedly, trying to hail a cab. Eva didn't say anything, just threw her half-smoked cigarette down on the street, grinding it under her heel. She leaned over to kiss Sasha, who tipped her head up almost as if it was an automatic reaction.
Sasha's lips were nice, slick already -- she must have dipped her tongue out to lick them while Eva wasn't looking, and the thought of the movement of her tongue made Eva just a tiny bit more nervous, but also more anxious to get to where ever they were headed. She wanted to back Sasha up to something, up against a wall or a lamp pole, but Sasha leaned back from her, mouth parted in another invitation that Eva wanted to take.
"We should get --" Sasha started, but Eva had already turned and was hailing a cab, watching one come to a stop as Sasha cut off her own sentence.
Eva turned back to Sasha with a quick grin. "That's how it's done," Eva said.
"Yeah," Sasha said, but she didn't look too impressed. Eva didn't expect her to, she hated that. She liked that Sasha didn't.
"So get inside," Sasha said, pressing forward, for one second pressing herself all the way against Eva's back, heat running down Eva's spine before Sasha slipped in the backseat of the cab first.
Sasha gave the address. "Fancy, huh," Eva said, and Sasha gave her a look that said, we don't talk about money. Why was it that the ones who had it never wanted to talk about it? This was America, for god's sake. All hail capitalism, and so on. Eva slumped moodily against the seat of the cab, and looked out of the window, feigning indifference. Sasha's hand grazed at Eva's knuckles, unexpectedly, and Eva had to turn around, had to look. That was when Sasha leaned over, prowling almost, and took Eva's face between her hands and kissed her hard.
Eva didn't particularly care about the cab driver. So he got a free show, just like every other sleaze in a bar who watched her dance like she was being paid. She liked dancing. She liked kissing girls in the backseats of cabs in the middle of the city, she liked reaching around Sasha to wrap her fingers around the back of her neck, half-tangled in her hair, hauling her closer. She liked the way Sasha leaned over even further, practically in Eva's lap, and made a little noise when Eva bit just lightly into Sasha's bottom lip.
Their mouths must have both tasted like shit -- logically, Eva knew this. Alcohol and cigarettes, the stuff of PG-rated vice. But it tasted so heady, even better than the weed she'd tried one time; that just made her feel sleepy. Beneath that Sasha tasted of salt and herself. Eva ran her tongue over Sasha's teeth and Sasha angled her mouth to allow her even better access.
They were so into it that Eva didn't even realise they'd arrived until the cab pulled to a stop. This time she paid as Sasha got out first and stood primly at the sidewalk waiting for her. "Have a good night, ladies," the cab driver said, and Eva didn't even bother with an angry remark, because she just wasn't pissed off. She held up her middle finger so he could see it through the rearview mirror, gave her best smile and scrambled out.
---
Sasha's place had an elevator up to her apartment, of course it did. The things money bought you, Eva thought, not very charitably. She didn't see much of the elevator, though, because as soon as they stepped inside Eva backed Sasha up against the wall of it, not caring about the too-clean stale air that was so unlike the city outside. She only cared about the way Sasha was arching her back up into Eva under her hands and the way she was dragging her hand up Eva's side, pressing her fingers above Eva's ribs, right above her breast.
The elevator dinged in the back of Eva's awareness, and then Sasha was hauling her forward, digging through her small and probably expensive purse for her key as Eva leaned against the side of the door, admiring the dark, slick color Sasha's lips had turned. She did that and she was fucking proud of it and she wanted to do more of it, wanted to find out the power Sasha had in her thighs from skating while they were wrapped around Eva's head, maybe. Maybe everything.
"Shoes off," Sasha said bossily, still digging in her purse, and Eva shrugged and took her best heels off. She could bet they weren't going to be stolen, left outside this apartment, anyway.
Sasha had dug out her key and was unlocking the door while untoeing her own flats, and Eva looked down. Not on purpose, but by coincidence. Sasha turned her head and saw Eva looking down, and said, "Oh." she knew what Eva was looking at. Their feet were blistered and callused to a similar degree, in different places.
"Skates," Sasha said, simply, as she unlocked the door and pushed it forward, stepping inside.
"Ballet shoes," Eva said back, and Sasha gripped her wrist and pulled her forward, not even bothering with the lights.
"Off," she said, this time indicating Eva's jacket, which Eva shrugged off, pulling her shirt over her head with it. She was proud of her body, she didn't care what the hell anyone had to say about standards most of the time. She knew it made people look, that people appreciated the tone she had to her arms, her stomach.
"You too," Eva said, and instead of waiting for Sasha to take off her own shirt, Eva pulled it off for her, watching the muscles of Sasha's stomach flex as she sucked in, just a little.
It wasn't her room, and it wasn't her house, but Eva didn't have any compunctions about pushing Sasha back onto the bed once that was done, pushing up her red skirt and just leaning down to lick at Sasha through her underwear. Sasha moaned, and Eva looked up. Her eyes were closed, and when Eva closed her hands on the sides of Sasha's hips, thumb dipping down into the sides of her underwear, Sasha got the hint and lifted her hips so Eva could get it off. Sasha’s skirt was still around her waist but Eva didn't bother about that, just leaned down and started with her tongue again, alternating licks and sucks around Sasha's clit.
Eva liked going down on girls, it made her feel powerful to feel their hips rising while she licked. Sasha kept remarkable control, just spreading her legs as wide as she could on the bed, giving Eva more room to move her head, to alternate sucking on Eva's clit and then licking down her slit and dragging back up, slowly. She pressed hard with wide strokes of her tongue, pointing it when she got back up to Sasha's clit and rolling it between her lips before sucking, hard, trying to get Sasha to make noises, to buck her hips up.
She did, too, leaning up into Eva's mouth and bending her knees, digging her heels into the mattress around Eva's ribs. Sasha put one of her hands down to rest on top of Eva's head, her fingers tangling into Eva's hair and pulling just slightly. Eva hated that, usually, especially with guys, always fucking needing to be in control, but right now it egged Eva on, made her press harder into Sasha, not caring that her chin was getting wet, high on the taste, the heaviness of it all.
When Sasha came she was pretty quiet. The last girl Eva'd been with -- fuck, before she left Boston, clearly, she thought to herself asininely, she'd been wasting her whole year -- had been a screamer, and that had been pretty hot. This was good too, Eva thought, as Sasha jerked and trembled around her, toes digging into Eva's back. She made a low quavery moan that sounded like she was trying to keep it back, keep it quiet. Maybe that was what she sounded like when she was getting herself off, Eva thought, and pressed against the mattress, hard. Her nipples were rubbing against the cup of her bra, and her face felt hot.
She stayed between Sasha's thighs for a moment while Sasha stretched her legs out at the knee and let them slip down again. Eva wanted to get up and just press herself against Sasha's mouth until she came, rocking, but she resisted, wanting -- selflessly, for the first time in a while -- to let Sasha make a move.
She wasn't going to wait much longer, though, and she turned her head and bit into the soft flesh of Sasha's thigh as a reminder. Sasha sat up on her elbows, grinned sideways down at Eva. "You want a turn?" she asked, and Eva rolled her eyes, bit on her own lip to keep from saying something that wouldn't help.
"Fuck, yes," she said instead, and Sasha leaned down and hauled her up under her arms, rolling them over. She pressed her hips down into Eva and Eva bucked up with a moan, didn't care about holding in noises when she wanted to make them, who cared.
"Not so loud," Sasha said, and giggled, and Eva pulled away to bite her shoulder, because she wouldn't have to be loud if Sasha could be bothered to be fast, and oh, shit, she hadn't even taken her clothes off yet. She unbuckled her bra and slid it off, ready for anything, now. She didn't look down, because she knew what Sasha was getting. She looked at herself in the mirror every day before getting in the shower, hating herself for it. She wasn't obvious like Jody or Maureen but she still fucking did it. Instead she met Sasha's eyes and looked straight back, lips pursed.
She went for the button on her own skirt but Sasha's hand met hers there, popped it and pulled the zipper down, allowing Eva room to shimmy them off, raising her hips, tugging her underwear down with them because what the hell, why not? She wanted everything Sasha would give her and she wanted it now, and she wanted it fast. Sasha made a small noise when Eva was efficiently, finally naked.
"Come on," Eva said, coaxing, a little hard.
"Coming," Sasha said, mouth twitching to show that that was a pun, was purposeful, and Eva could appreciate purpose here -- Sasha leaned forward to kiss Eva again and Eva gasped aloud, because it was just so good. Sasha broke off and reached between their bodies, hand nudging between Eva's legs. Her mouth had latched on to Eva's left nipple and it was almost too much. Eva spread her legs and huffed air out her nose, frustrated, when Sasha pressed against her slit, light and too teasing.
"Do it," Eva said, this time not bothering to hide the demand in her voice, rolling her hips down into Sasha's fingers. Sasha licked around her nipple, dragged with her teeth a little.
She slipped one finger inside as Eva rocked downwards, and it was good, so good, with Sasha's mouth on her, too. Eva kept rocking, trying to get Sasha's finger in deeper, groaning when she got a second one inside, twisting up.
"What, are you going to ride them?" Sasha asked, and she said it so normally, dark but plainly, that it was so many more times hotter than if she had said it more deliberately. Eva moaned and nodded against the top of Sasha's head, shifting to find better balance on the mattress and bucking her hips down repeatedly, definitely riding Sasha's fingers.
"Wait a moment," Sasha said, laughing, and god but Eva hated her. She stopped long enough, though, for Sasha to slip in another finger, knuckle-deep, and then things got tight and stretched and so good.
Eva groaned again and leaned backwards against Sasha, whose breasts were pressed against her shoulder blades, nearly right on target. She ground her hips against Sasha's fingers, and Sasha pressed knowingly at a certain spot, like she just knew where Eva's g-spot was, and oh.
Eva couldn't keep up her rhythm as well, and damn it, she was a dancer, she could always keep rhythm, but her thighs shook a little as Sasha kept pressing her fingers up, moving slick and hard inside her. Sasha leaned down and bit just against Eva's shoulder and then licked there, soothing.
"No marks," Eva said, even though part of her wanted to look in the mirror before her shower the next day and see a small bruise, a reminder. She didn't care, though, pressing down against Sasha's hand. Sasha's other hand reached across her stomach from behind and pressed into Eva's clit, and Eva sucked in a sharp breath as Sasha moved her fingers back and forth over it in time with the fingers inside her.
It was such an awkward position, but finally, finally Eva wasn't thinking about anything at all, and she came, loud and non-verbal, as Sasha whispered soothing things and hid her smile in Eva's shoulder.
Sasha pulled her fingers out and brought them up to her mouth, only Eva intercepted her, and kitten-licked at them. "I wasn't going to leave anything," Sasha said, as Eva came back to herself sufficiently to turn around and adjust her limbs so she was just sitting next to Sasha. "But, why, can't you stand bruises," and she said it in a way that made it sound ridiculous.
"It just isn't anyone's business," Eva snapped, and Sasha seemed to take that as an answer. They couldn't wear cardigans to class.
Sasha could wear sweaters to practice, probably. She could bundle up always and no one would care. Belatedly, it made Eva want to mark her, to suck a bruise into her skin so Sasha wouldn't forget, so she could feel Eva's tongue on her even when Eva was long gone.
"Sorry," Sasha said, after a pause. She didn't sound too apologetic.
"Don't be sorry," Eva snapped. Never be sorry, she thought. That was a stupid thing to say if you meant what you said.
"I should go," Eva added, stretching. Her bones felt tired like they did after a long day in the studio, satisfyingly so.
"Yeah," Sasha said, after a long pause. Eva was glad she didn't seem to want her to stay, glad there weren't any miscommunications. She had class the next day anyway, and -- "Back to the daily grind," she muttered, getting off the bed and pulling her underwear on halfway before realising they was absolutely wrecked. She shrugged, and just pulled on her skirt instead, balling the underwear into her fist as Sasha watched. It was a warm night. She'd survive.
---
Sasha walked her to the door, after, which Eva thought was nice, but wasn't sure she wanted that awkward goodbye at the end. "We --" Sasha started, "I might like to see you dance sometime, maybe," she said.
Eva nodded, a little thrown off. "Do you skate locally?" she asked, because she was halfway out the door and because Sasha looked nice in her robe, standing there with her hair messed up and her bare thighs peeking out from underneath the hem.
"Sometimes," Sasha said. "We could --" she paused, leaned over to rummage through a table by the door and came back with a pen. "Let me have your hand."
She wrote her number on Eva's palm, who let her do it. "Call me if you want when you are dancing. No promises, but," she said. Eva took her hand back and looked at the number there. She squinted in the light from the hallway.
"Give me your hand, too," Eva said, a little reluctant, but the ink was drying a little itchy on her palm and maybe she wanted to see Sasha skate, maybe. she'd have to think about it. She wrote her number on Sasha's hand, her fingers soft under Eva's own and then gave the pen back.
She didn't mention that she was going to be stuck in the corps in some third-rate company at five hundred a week for the rest of her life, if she got a job at all. But she wanted to tell the truth, not in the way she usually told it, loud like she didn't care, but because she really wanted Sasha to know.
"I'm not a big star," Eva said, shrugging. Sasha got a knowing look on her face, and Eva wondered just how famous she was. She didn't really pay any attention to celebrities. "Well," Sasha said, "you could just dance for me."
Eva couldn't tell if that was a come-on, but Sasha was smiling like she knew a secret, and so Eva thought she'd allow her that, for now. "We'll see," Eva said. She couldn't help the little twist of a grin that crept onto her face. Sasha nodded, once, like that was acceptable.
"Goodnight," Sasha said, and that was Eva's cue to leave, so she did, turning down the hall, bones feeling loose and light as she walked like she was dancing across the floor. She turned back to Sasha's door when she reached the elevator, but it was already closed.
Eva's fingertips were still a little sticky, just like how there was leftover come and sweat between her thighs and behind her ears. She squeezed her legs together in the elevator -- she'd have to be careful not to flash anyone, she left her underwear behind in the apartment, she remembered with a brief surge of irritation. But mostly things were good. maybe she'd go back for Erik and demand cuddles, even if it was the middle of the night. The next day would be a new one.
The elevator dinged again and when she stepped out into the city air it was welcome, washing over her, making her feel just that much more sticky. She grabbed a cab and didn't say a word to the cab driver, just gave him the address and leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes and replaying the night in her head. The next day would be a new one and it would be a better one and she'd have to be careful not to wash off Sasha's number from her palm before she remembered to write it down somewhere safe.