Fic: Consolation Prize
Heather blinks at the computer screen, willing it to change. No freakin’ way. She blinks again, but the screen stays stubbornly the same, the pixels mocking her. Crap, crap, crap.... She swallows deeply and looks up at the empty doorway as she hears approaching footsteps. Naya enters through the door with a smile on her face.
“Dinner is served,” she says cheerfully, and drops the bags of Mexican takeout on the coffee table. She grins at Heather, who doesn’t return her smile. The dancer puts her laptop on the coffee table and leans forward, reaching for Naya’s hand.
“Babe, I gotta tell you some- ” she starts, but Naya cuts in with a jolt.
“Oh, cutlery,” she says and bounces out of the room. Heather runs a hand through her hair and across her forehead. How would she ever be able to break this to her girlfriend?
Naya comes back in and arranges the cutlery neatly on the table, smiling at her completely pointless handiwork. She smiles at Heather, but the smile quickly fades when she notices it’s not returned. “What’s wrong? Who died?” she asks worriedly, sitting on the couch next to her.
Heather takes her hand and squeezes it reassuringly, glancing up apologetically. “We lost, babe.”
“Lost what?” Naya asks curiously.
“The poll. We lost. Brittana’s out.”
The change that comes over Naya’s features is heartbreaking. The sparkle in her eyes dies and is replaced by a glistening disappointment. Her perpetually smiling mouth straightens out and the corners pull down sadly. Her shoulders slump as though she’s crumbling, and her voice shakes as she breathes out: “What?”
“I’m sorry. We lost to Nathan and Hayley, from One Tree Hill. By only a few percent,” Heather informs her miserably.
“But… we were so close! It was the top eight round!” Naya protests.
“I know, I know,” Heather just replies, patting her hand comfortingly.
“How?” There’s a little more force behind her voice. “How did we lose?” she asks, and it comes out almost angrily.
“Bots, maybe. L-chat gals were using them, but I guess other ships were trying to sink us too.”
“But they left all those hilarious comments! Hell, even I left some pretty funny ones,” Naya argues, and Heather puts her hands up defensively.
“You did, I know,” Heather says quickly, and adds with a devious smile, “You’re the captain of the ship, after all…”
Naya tilts her head to the side with a sharp, annoyed look. “That’s embarrassing.”
“Yeah,” Heather just utters, and reaches for the takeout, just as Naya starts up again.
“I just don’t get it,” she says, frowning. “Show me the poll.”
“Trust me, babe, we lost.”
“I want to see it for myself,” Naya returns obstinately, and Heather hands her the laptop. The brunette scrolls down the page and scrutinizes the winners with venom. Suddenly, she’s typing away furiously, pounding her fingers angrily onto the keyboard.
“You’re not leaving some lame comment, are you?” Heather asks.
“It’s not lame. It’s deserved. Those suckers should not have won.”
“It’s just a poll.”
“It’s more than that,” Naya replies indignantly.
“If you’re worried about not getting interviews together anymore - ”
“I’m not!” Naya cuts in, but Heather continues.
“ - you don’t have to be. Once Brittana happens, interviews will start to grow out of our ears, we’ll get so many.”
Naya stays quiet, and continues to type away. Heather rolls her eyes. “At least please don’t sign with your name,” she grumbles.
“Why not? They’ll never believe it’s me. They’ll think it’s a fan or something.”
“I know. And that’s just sad,” Heather says with a laugh, but Naya ignores her. Heather lets out a resigned sigh and sits back on the couch with a burrito, munching away peacefully as Naya leans progressively closer to the screen in her furious typing. The sound of keys being hit as though they deserved to be taken down a peg or two starts to grate on her nerves, and Heather presses the laptop closed with a snap. Naya barely has enough time to pull her fingers away and she looks up at Heather acrimoniously. “Stop. Eat,” Heather commands.
“I want to finish my comment.”
“Your comment will be there when we finish eating. The food’s getting cold,” Heather says reasonably, but when Naya doesn’t move and just stares at her stubbornly, she sighs and grabs her hand, running her thumb over her knuckles absentmindedly and catching her eye. “Come on. I know it sucks. A lot. But it’s not the end of the world. Just eat for now, okay?”
“Fine,” Naya snaps reluctantly, and bites into a burrito like it’s committed a crime against humanity.
A few minutes and stretching silences later, when they’re both sated and full, Heather sighs and leans against Naya, trying to dispel some of the tension by grabbing her hand and idly running her fingers over the inside of Naya’s palm. The brunette doesn’t respond, and instead is staring out into space with an expression of displeasure. Heather can’t decide if the look is anger or sadness. She smiles at an idea, and moves her idle touches to Naya’s thigh instead. There’s still no response, so she walks her fingers a little higher, between her legs, and squeezes her thigh playfully. She looks up at Naya to see her reaction, but she just briefly looks down at her and rolls her eyes. Heather sighs in defeat and sits up, grabbing the remote control and turning on the TV.
“Can I finish my comment now?” Naya asks.
“Whatever,” Heather sighs, and gets up to put in a DVD.
“What are we watching?” Naya pipes up as she types.
“Do you care?” Heather grumbles, and looks back at her. Naya tilts her head to the side.
“Yes, I do. Sorry I snapped before. It just sucks.”
“I know. But you’re getting way too worked up about this poll.”
Naya stays quiet, but doesn’t type anymore. She looks thoughtful.
“Movie?” Heather prompts, and Naya looks up as though she’s coming out of a reverie.
“Not a comedy. I don’t like watching comedies when I’m in a bad mood,” Naya says.
“Lost and Delirious?” Heather offers jokingly. Last time they’d watched it, they’d ended up sitting in shocked silence as the credits rolled by, both too upset to even cry or discuss it. Surprisingly, Naya nods.
“Yeah, okay,” she says, still looking sadly out to space.
“Earth to Naya,” Heather says, waving her hand in front of her face. Naya looks up, startled. “Remember what happened last time with this movie?” she reminds her.
“Oh. Right. You pick, then.”
Heather shrugs and puts in Romancing The Stone. Romance and action always worked as a pick-me-up for Naya - in both senses of the words...
The movie starts, and Heather settles into the couch, pulling her legs up and laying her head on the armrest. After a few minutes, she notices that she’s the only one laughing at the silly moments in the movie and glances at Naya, who’s still perusing the E!online website.
“Naya, watch the movie,” Heather chastises.
“Already seen it.”
“Me too. Doesn’t matter. Watch it with me.” Heather pokes Naya’s legs with her toe and stretches her legs so that they nudge the laptop away. “What are you doing, anyway?”
“Trying to figure out how we lost.”
“Oh my god, Nay, will you drop it? We lost! End of story!” Heather retorts with another sigh.
“No, it’s not,” Naya counters, and suddenly sits forward with a keen twinkle in her eye, like she’s finally figured everything out. “It’s because people don’t get Brittana. They don’t see past the Cheerio’s skirts and linked pinkies and friendship to something more. Cause there is something more.” Heather pinches the bridge of her nose. Here we go again. “Besides that, I think that Brittany and Santana could be really good role models for high school girls. Hell, if there had been Brittana when you or I were growing up… well, more you than me,” she adds jokingly, “then coming out wouldn’t have been such a bloody mess.”
“Okay, stop talking, please,” Heather guffaws, shocked that Naya would bring that up. Sure, she’d made a bit of a mess when they’d first started dating, but they were far past that now, and honestly, who could have expected anything different? Falling in love with your best friend just isn’t something that happens every day.
“No, I’m serious. Brittana can help. It’s important,” Naya insists, and Heather can see that she’s not even started with her rant yet.
“Brittana is still on!” Heather interjects, sitting up, when Naya takes a breath. “Nothing’s changed! We’ve already shot the scenes!”
“Visibility, Heather,” Naya reminds her as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Heather throws her head back on the couch with a frustrated sigh, and tries to drown out Naya’s voice by focusing on the patterns of paint on the ceiling. It proves to be an impossibly boring distraction, and Naya’s voice floats back in.
“ - and then there’s the whole gay panic thing. I mean, hello? Remind you of someone much?”
Heather looks up, and quirks an eyebrow. Did she just go there again? The pointed look Naya gives her answers her question.
“What is this, Bash-Heather-Day?” she asks curiously, and Naya stops ranting for a second to smile at her affectionately. She puts her hand on her thigh and leans forward.
“You know I love you,” Naya murmurs, and places a quick peck on her lips.
“Mmm, that’s more like it,” Heather agrees, and grabs the back of Naya’s neck to kiss her again when she starts to pull away.
“I wasn’t finished talking yet,” Naya murmurs unclearly around Heather’s lips; Heather doesn’t relent with the kiss.
“Yes, you were,” Heather insists.
“Heather,” Naya whines disapprovingly. Heather just pulls her a little closer, putting her other hand on Naya’s hip and slipping her fingers under the hem of Naya’s shirt. Naya let out a small breath, and Heather smiles when she doesn’t complain and try to pull away again.
But, the moment of weakness doesn’t last, and after a minute, Naya pulls away with a jolt and raises her eyebrows. Heather’s mouth is still parted, and she’s pouting slightly, leaning forward breathlessly as though she’s kissing the air left behind in Naya’s unexpected absence.
“Are you just trying to distract me?” Naya asks accusingly.
Heather rearranges her face into something more innocent, but leans forward again anyway and slides a hand around the back of Naya’s neck. “No, babe, of course not,” she mumbles against her lips, and a corner of Naya’s mouth twitches in a smile.
“Because it’s not going to work,” Naya says resolutely, pulling away enough to make her words clear and intelligible. “This is not over. Brittana should have won.”
“Mmhmm,” Heather agrees half-heartedly, far more interested in running her hands through Naya’s hair than the poll and a fictional couple on Glee.
Naya gives up for another few seconds, kissing Heather back. Heather’s hand inconspicuously continues its path under Naya’s shirt, running her slightly cold hands over Naya’s skin and raising goosebumps. But, again, Naya pulls away (of course, just as Heather is reaching for gold), and sits back on the couch. Heather holds back a whine of annoyance, but instead of pouting, decides to fix Naya’s reluctant and petulant mood once and for all. As Naya leans back into the couch, Heather moves with her, and swings her leg over her lap so she’s straddling the brunette. Naya raises an eyebrow at her, but still puts her hands on Heather’s hips; Heather takes it as the first battle won.
“Why are you - ” Naya begins, but loses her words when Heather leans down and kisses her, harder this time. The angle is a little tricky because of the height difference, and Heather is forced to bend Naya’s neck so far for the kiss that she’s almost leaning over the back of the couch.
“Because I want you,” Heather purrs, and then adds with a smile, “and I want to distract you.”
Naya lets out an amused huff. “Nothing can distract - ”
Heather breaks the kiss and pushes herself forward against Naya so that there’s barely an inch of them that’s not touching. “I can.” She pulls back when Naya offers no contention, slides her hands under Naya’s shirt again, and flicks her tongue against Naya’s neck. The brunette lets out a contented sigh and lets her head fall back onto the back of the couch.
“But Brittana - ” she whines wistfully. Heather can hear the battle’s almost won.
“I thought you always call them Santitany?” she asks playfully, sliding her hands up further and cupping her breasts. She squeezes a breast mischievously as she says: “I like Santitany better.”
Naya looks a little flustered at the commanding way Heather is starting to control the situation, taking matters into her own hands - literally - but she manages to sputter a reply, “But we lost, and I have to… I mean… Brittana - ”
“Well, Brittana will just have to wait their turn.” Heather places a line of kisses along Naya’s jaw, and says plainly, “I come first.”
“Don’t you always?” Naya teases, quirking an eyebrow wickedly.
Heather pulls back with a mock-appalled expression. “What on earth are you talking about?” Naya raises her eyebrows at her and Heather breaks out into a sheepish grin. “Okay, fine. But can’t you blame me that I can’t get enough of you.”
“That’s true,” Naya jokes, moving her hands from Heather’s hips to her back, below her tank top. “But somehow you always do come first.”
“Not tonight,” Heather promises, forgetting momentarily about the playful jabs Naya’s hit her with so far. Naya looks at her skeptically, but the expression fades when Heather says simply: “I mean it.” Naya smiles and looks up at her lovingly, and Heather’s pretty sure Brittana is the last thing on her mind right now.
Then Heather grins, letting the moment pass and focusing again on her plan. She leans down, kisses up Naya’s neck, and breathes into her ear: “Tonight I’m gonna make you scream.” She feels Naya shiver in anticipation beneath her, and it spurs her on. She continues her kisses, dragging her lips along Naya’s neck. She remembers the first time they did this. She had been so nervous, but now it’s more familiar. Still, it hasn’t lost any of its appeal, of its excitement and delight, and she shivers at both the memories and the expectations.
Meanwhile, Naya has moved her hands from Heather’s back to grab her ass, squeezing and pulling Heather closer against her. She leans forward when the movement causes Heather to pull her face away from her neck, and kisses across Heather’s neck instead. She sucks on the skin, and admires her quick work when a purple hickey springs to life in a few dedicated seconds. Heather notices her grin, and slaps a hand on the hickey.
“Great, now I need to go buy cover-up,” she jokes.
“I have plenty,” Naya replies. Heather smirks; usually it’s Naya with the hickeys. It gives her a quick idea and she bends down and sucks on Naya’s neck before she expects the brunette to be able to respond. But respond she does, and before she knows it, Naya has her pinned beneath her, her hands grappled on the armrest above her and her legs still around Naya’s waist. She links her feet behind her back and tightens her legs, bringing Naya’s body flush against her. The collision makes her gasp, and she loses some of the laughter creeping in her eyes to be replaced with lust. Naya notices, and brings her face down to hungrily capture Heather’s mouth. Heather flicks her tongue between her lips, teasing past Naya’s lips, who opens her mouth eagerly, but Heather doesn’t enter. Instead, she continues to slide past lips until the brunette is panting with need and chasing her tongue with her own.
A cell phone rings from the kitchen, and Heather pulls away with a small groan. Her lips are slick and heated, and all she wants to do is keep kissing Naya, but Naya tilts her head.
“Are you going to get that?”
“I can ignore it, if you want,” Heather purrs, and wishes Naya would be irresponsible for once and just kiss her again, but Naya looks at her sternly. “Fine, fine,” she grumbles, and unhooks her legs from Naya’s waist reluctantly as the brunette sits back and rearranges her shirt.
“You should really change that ringtone,” Naya jokes, humming along absentmindedly to ‘Me Against The Music’.
“No way. It reminds me of our duet every time,” Heather replies, and gives Naya a quick peck before ambling to the kitchen and picking up the phone. “’Ello?” she calls cheerfully.
“Okay, you’re still alive, then,” Dianna’s voice replies with relief.
“Uuh, yeah?” Heather answers uncertainly.
“Did she find the poll yet?” Dianna asks worriedly.
“Yeah, I told her about it.”
“And she didn’t flip?”
“She got a little upset. But it’s fine. I distracted her,” Heather replies with a faint smile.
“Phew. Dodged a bullet then,” Dianna says in relief.
“Brittana can’t win everything.”
“Yeah, sure, but it’s not really fair when the competition is cheating!” Dianna replies indignantly, and Heather raises an eyebrow.
“Cheating?”
There’s a pause. “Yeah, didn’t you - ”
Suddenly there’s a screech from the living room, and Naya’s voice sounds shrilly through the apartment. “Oh my god!”
“Shit,” Dianna whispers.
“I guess she found out…” Heather mumbles, biting her lip and surreptitiously glancing around for an exit.
“Run, Heather. Run. Come to our place. We’ll keep you safe!” Dianna all but hisses into the phone.
“Can’t. Talk to you later. Damage control now,” Heather says back quickly, and hangs up the phone, cutting off Dianna’s fearful warnings. She tiptoes into the living room, and sees Naya sitting on the couch with the laptop in her lap, fuming. She glares up when Heather comes in.
“They hacked the poll. They friggin’ hacked the poll!” she exclaims. Heather takes a tentative step closer.
“I know.”
“You knew?” Naya accuses.
“No,” Heather answers quickly. “Dianna just told me.”
Naya takes a calming breath, and Heather can see that she’s reminding herself what’s she’s angry at: the poll, not Heather. The blonde takes another step forward, testing the waters and hoping the danger is subsiding.
“I just… I can’t even… they cheated!” Naya continues, her anger making her lose her thoughts before they tumble off her lips. “They made it impossible for Brittana to get past 49%. That’s why we lost. It’s the only reason why we lost.”
“I know.”
“It’s so unfair,” Naya hisses. “Stupid Nayley shippers. Who even still watches One Tree Hill?”
“Brittany does,” Heather points out with an encouraging smile, but it’s clearly too early for jokes; Naya looks up at her with a glare. She gets up from the couch and starts to pace.
“We need to email. Rally. Get everyone together and just twitter the crap out of E!online.”
“Babe,” Heather mutters, reaching out to stop Naya’s pacing. Naya pulls out of her grip.
“I’m serious. This is so unfair. Nayley should be disqualified.”
“We don’t know if it was a Nayley fan that did it,” Heather points out, but Naya glares at her.
“We could have gotten an interview out of this, could have gotten half of America to see that lesbians, bisexuals, this - us even! - are not bad, gross, whatever,” she rants, sweeping her arm around the apartment at the mention of their relationship. Heather looks at her sympathetically.
“It’ll get there,” she says positively.
“Brittana winning could have gotten it closer,” Naya argues, and stomps on the ground like a child denied candy. “We should have won!”
Heather’s lips twitch in guilty amusement when she sees that there are almost angry tears squeezing out of the corners of Naya’s eyes. She takes a step closer when Naya begins to pace again, and tugs her around. Naya refuses the movement, but Heather pulls harder, and then places both her hands on the sides of Naya’s face, concentrating her gaze.
“Naya, stop. Come on. It’s just a poll. We lost. It’s not that big a deal,” Heather reassures. Naya starts to interrupt, but Heather is quicker. “I’m serious. Calm down. If you don’t, I’m going to call Dianna and Lea and tell them you’ve taken me hostage until someone makes Brittana the winners of the poll.”
There’s a sudden twinkle in Naya’s eye, and Heather lets out a disbelieving laugh when she realizes she’s actually considering the idea. “Naya!” she exclaims, pushing the brunette away a bit.
“What? I could make it look good,” Naya argues, laughing, tugging Heather back. “I could tie you up and everything,” she continues, and suddenly there’s a new glint in her eye. Heather smirks, and pulls Naya’s body closer. She stays quiet, afraid of ruining the moment. Naya pipes up instead. “I can’t believe we got beat because someone hacked the poll,” she says bitterly. Heather can see Naya’s temper hasn’t completely quieted down, but she’s no longer seeing red. Naya groans and tilts her head back. “Fuck,” she hisses, and digs her fingers into Heather’s waist.
Heather waits a moment to gauge Naya’s actions, but the brunette stays the way she is, head tilted back and gripping her waist, so she leans down to kiss Naya’s skin tentatively, wary of another lash-out, but unable to resist Naya’s inviting neck. Naya shivers at the touch, and pulls herself straight. She catches Heather’s eye, who has pulled back guardedly, but Heather can see a change: there’s still the anger, and bitterness, but there’s a hunger that’s all too familiar and makes her muscles tug and want to pull Naya as close as physics allows. Naya beats her to it; she grinds her mouth against Heather’s and winds her hands in her hair so tightly that Heather almost whimpers. “Distract me,” she groans huskily. Heather feels herself getting wet instantly at the command, and crushes her lips down passionately.
Naya pushes forward, and Heather stumbles until her back hits a wall. Naya shoves her hips forward and pins her there. Heather gasps as the movement, and at Naya’s unexpected forcefulness. It’s uncommon, and the roles were reversed not too long ago.
“Naya, slow down,” Heather whimpers as Naya traces a heated, hungry path across her neck and collarbone. She pulls Heather shirt down to kiss across the top of her breast.
“I don’t want to,” Naya mumbles back, and looks up briefly at Heather. “This is good, right?”
Heather can’t help but nod, and Naya continues with her kisses. She grinds her hips forward, bringing one of her legs up, and Heather gasps. It’s almost as if Naya wants to take her right then and there, clothes and all; grind into her until they’re both gasping, and collapse exhausted against the wall. On one hand, it’s an appealing thought, but Heather remembers her promise. The point of this was distraction - for Naya, not for her. She nearly groans at the promise she made because there’s a pounding need between her legs that Naya could satisfy in minutes, if she asked - but all she needs to do is remind herself of Naya’s look of love after the promise, and it makes up her mind.
Naya starts to undo the button on Heather’s jeans, and Heather covers her hands to stop her. “Naya,” she says simply, and the brunette looks up at her distractedly (which clearly was the point, but the method was not what Heather had wanted). “Bed,” Heather suggests.
“No, I like it here,” Naya replies. She glances quickly at the laptop behind them as though she’s still hoping for a rerun of the last round. Heather pulls Naya’s face back, and kisses her softly. It proves to be a better distraction than the passionate, needy kisses of before, and Naya’s body melts against her. She loosens her grip on Heather’s jeans, and Heather takes her hand to lead her to the bedroom. Naya glances back forlornly to the living room one last time; Heather sees her jaw set in anger and disappointment, but when she looks at her, it’s only lust and ardor left. Heather opens her mouth to assure Naya they’ll get to it, that she’ll distract her and make everything better again, but Naya grabs hold of her and kisses her again. She twitches her hips, and Heather falls back onto the bed with Naya on top of her.
“Jeez, you really can’t wait, can you?” Heather asks, partly amused and partly (actually, extremely) turned on.
“Nah-uh,” Naya murmurs, and lifts Heather shirt to kiss across her stomach. She flicks her tongue across her abs, and Heather squirms with memories. She’s glad they’re in private here, because she doesn’t think she could resist kissing all sense out of Naya for a second time this month.
“Shirt,” Naya hums, and Heather strips. She feels hands at the zipper of her jeans.
“You too,” she says back, and when Naya pulls of her blouse, Heather reaches around her, unclasps and pulls off her bra, and rolls them both over. Naya smiles up at her, and Heather appreciates the view from above: Naya’s neck is still tinged pink from her kisses, her pupils are dilated with longing, her hair is brushed across the bedspread, and her breasts are within reach of mouth, hands, and sight. Heather takes advantage and brings down her lips. She kisses Naya’s nipple, exploring and teasing the sensitive skin with her lips like she’s done a thousand times before, and then closing her mouth around it when she hears Naya’s breath catch at the touch. Hands wind into her hair to urge her on.
“Heather…” Naya breathes. Behind the arousal, there’s a calm in her sigh that Heather hasn’t heard since before she found out about the poll. Plan ‘Distract Naya’ is going off without a hitch.
Heather pulls away for a few moments to pull off her jeans and shimmy out of her underwear. She unzips and takes off Naya’s as well, sliding her hands suggestively past Naya’s skin as she slips them off her legs. When Naya kicks off the item, Heather runs her hands back up her legs, from ankle to thigh, and rests them a few inches away from where Naya desperately needs them to be. The pause makes Naya look up, and she twitches her hips.
“Heather?”
In answer, Heather slides her hands over Naya’s hips, and grips her there. She brings her own body down and slides a leg between Naya’s. She holds there for a second, and then, with an impish grin, grinds down again. The pressure pulls a gasp from the Latina’s throat, and she looks up at Heather in wonder. This position… it’s unexpected. It’s not something they do very often… and honestly, she can’t remember why.
Heather grinds her hips down again and presses her leg against Naya’s clit. Naya presses back in response, and soon there’s a rhythm as they search for friction on each other’s bodies. Heather slides her hand to Naya’s back to guide her movement, and continues to rub, shuddering at the sensation of Naya’s abs against her own, breasts against breasts, Naya’s wetness across her thigh, and, most importantly, the building pleasure between her legs. She hopes Naya is feeling it as much as she is, and redoubles her efforts to fulfill her promise to make Naya, finally, come first.
As the pleasure builds, Heather moves her position. She sits up on her knee, hooking her leg partway over Naya’s, and pulls Naya’s hips up to meet hers. She tries not to break the rhythm as she moves to increases the friction, but she falters for a second, and then presses forward harder to reestablish it. Naya gasps and lets out a short moan. Heather feels another spurt of wetness against her inner thigh, and moves her hips to rub their clits together.
“God… Heather!” Naya moans, pressing her head back against the bed and keeping her hips raised to grind against Heather. She reaches for her blindly, and Heather grabs her hand. A few seconds later, and Naya squeezes her hand tightly, and Heather knows she’s getting close. She rubs against her harder, desperately controlling her own need for release to bring Naya closer instead, but her breath is coming out as raggedly, as quickly, and it turns into gutteral gasps. The brunette whimpers, and the whimpers turns to moans, and then Heather feels it: the shudder, the tension, and the thrust that tells her Naya is almost over the edge. She lets herself let go a little, and with a final push, they both come undone. Naya calls Heather’s name in a breathless mantra and grips her hand, pushing herself up off the bed and gasping at the pleasure coursing through her body, filling every corner, muscle, and nerve. Heather lets her head fall back and cries out, giving in to the pleasure - almost. She grips Naya’s hips to guide herself against her and bring her down from her orgasm as she needs it, sacrificing some of her own pleasure to amplify her girlfriend’s. Naya feels it, and smiles at her as she continues to writhe and gasp.
After a few more seconds, Naya’s moans subside into soft, satisfied gasps, and she shudders back down onto the bed. Heather holds herself up for a second more, closing her eyes and savoring the flavor on the air of the scent of their combined sweat and arousal before letting herself slide past Naya’s legs and collapse on top of her. Naya lets out a breath at the sudden impact, and then laughs vivaciously. She rolls them both over, brings her hands to Heather’s neck, and smiles as she peppers thankful and happy kisses across Heather’s grinning face.
“That was so good,” Naya purrs between kisses and breathless panting. “So, so good.” She squirms over Heather’s body, and the blonde wraps her arms around the smaller girl, loving the way their bodies fit together.
Heather laughs at a thought: they’d just fulfilled Brittana’s canon sex move. It seems strangely appropriate in the current circumstances. Naya tilts her head at the laugh, curious, but Heather just kisses her with a smile. After a few seconds, she sighs into the kiss, and Naya lays her head down on her shoulder, idly kissing her neck once in a while. Heather closes her eyes, satisfied, but something is nagging at the back of her mind. This satisfaction… feels almost out of place. Like she’s forgetting something…
With a jolt, she realizes what. She still hasn’t fulfilled her promise. She slaps her hand on her forehead, startling Naya out of her languid doze.
“Oh my god! I did it again, didn’t I?” she utters.
“Did what?” Naya asks, perplexed. She lifts her head and props herself up.
“I didn’t let you come first, like I promised,” Heather almost whines, annoyed at herself.
“We came together,” Naya reasons with a smile. “It’s fine.” Heather continues to look skeptical and thoughtful. “Really. Heather: it felt great. You have no idea. It was so, so good for me,” Naya reassures her.
“No,” Heather says simply, tightens her arms around Naya, and rolls them both over yet again. She quickly sets to work, kissing across Naya’s neck and shoulder as the brunette giggles.
“Babe…” Naya says with a smile, but the blonde silences her with a passionate kiss. When she pulls away, she’s happy to see Naya is a little breathless.
“Shush. Let me do my thing.”
Naya bites her tongue and nods excitedly, abruptly ready for more. Heather smiles at her eagerness, and nips on the skin of her neck. Naya grips the back of her neck to guide her lower, and Heather continues her kisses and soft nips along the inside of her breasts, down her abdomen, over her belly button (she dips her tongue across it as she goes), and below the tan line of Naya’s waist. She kisses lower, and Naya’s stomach muscles tense in expectation and she automatically spreads her thighs to give Heather better access.
Heather looks up, and roams her eyes over Naya’s body; she takes in her flushed face, awed eyes, the rise of her stomach as she breathes in and out excitedly, her shapely breasts, and then lower to her sex, where her wetness is spread across her from their scissoring. Heather’s stomach flips at the memory and the sight, and she lets out an aroused breath. So sexy… she thinks. She glances up once more at Naya, and then bends down to lick across her clit. Naya shudders beneath her, letting out a breathless sigh.
“Oh,” she moans softly, and Heather licks across her again, molding her lips over the sensitive nub and flicking her tongue against it. She presses her hands onto Naya’s hips and lowers herself on the mattress to dip her tongue between Naya’s folds. She knows Naya like the back of her hand - better even, because her tongue almost seems to have a better memory than her eyes. Muscle memory, she thinks with a smile, and flicks her tongue across Naya, easily remembering the ways and places she likes to be touched, and how hard. Soon, Naya’s breath is coming in quick gasps again, and she’s breathing soft pleas of More, and Oh my god, and Heather!
Heather presses herself lower into the mattress and lets her tongue dip with the movement to push herself deeper into Naya. Her wetness slides across her lips and tongue, and Heather laps up the intoxicating taste of it. She lets out a shuddering breath against Naya’s slippery skin and pulls away for half a second, but Naya’s fingers wind into her hair and she moans her name, begging for more.
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she gasps out.
Heather bites her lip, her teeth dragging across it slick with saliva and the thrilling taste of Naya, and tries to control her own aching arousal. She delves her tongue back into Naya and pushes it up, hard, and Naya gasps and bucks her hips automatically.
“So close,” she moans, and Heather pushes in again. She brings her hand from Naya’s hip to between her thighs, slides over soaked skin, and rubs her thumb over her clit, pushing and teasing it as Naya’s gasps and moans increase in pitch. Her hips buck up again, and Heather tries to hold her down, but it’s no use, so she goes with her rhythm, and soon Naya is pushing her head against the bed, arching her back, and searching wantonly for something in the sheets to hold on to. Heather feels a spurt of wetness in her mouth, and she nearly comes herself at the feeling of Naya’s muscles tightening around her tongue as Naya shudders tumultuously to orgasm. She chants her moans and they echo through the room, rounded off by a drawn out cry of Heather’s name.
As Naya shudders beneath her, Heather moves her tongue up her slit and gently laps at her clit to bring her down. When the shaking subsides, she kisses across all the skin between her thighs, coating her lips and tongue with Naya’s taste, and grins at the continued shudders that the small touches elicit. She moves her kisses up and drags her lips across Naya’s heated skin. She smiles at the slick trail she leaves behind as she goes, the combination of her saliva and Naya’s fluids, and almost doubles back to lick her skin again and take up the tang of it until there’s nothing but her own taste left. But Naya tugs with the hand still lazily entwined in Heather’s hair, and Heather looks up at her with a smile. The Latina still has her eyes closed, and the back of her hand is resting sluggishly against her flushed cheek. She runs the back of her pinky idly along her lips as though she’s imagining Heather’s kiss, and a smile pulls at the corner of her lips. Heather mirrors the smile, rolls off her, and props herself up on her elbow to admire the breathtaking beauty beside her. Naya opens her eyes to find Heather’s dazzling blue ones looking deeply into hers.
“Wow,” Naya breathes, and brushes her lips over Heather’s. She pulls back, licks them, and smiles at the oddly familiar taste.
“Mmm,” Heather hums and just enjoys the sight of Naya so happy and satisfied. She twirls a curl of her messy hair through her fingers and grins.
“Come here,” Naya purrs, and opens her arms to let Heather slide up against her. Heather drapes an arm over Naya’s chest, resting her hand on her breast (honestly, it’s just the best spot), and pulls her close. She shifts her hips and hooks a leg over Naya’s hip. Her own wetness slides across Naya’s skin, and Naya raises an amused eyebrow. “Shall I help you with that?” she teases, and starts to trail her fingers along Heather’s arm and twitch her hips between her legs, but Heather stops her.
“No,” Heather whispers simply, and brushes her lips lightly over Naya’s. There’s still a need she can’t deny, but it’s distant, satisfied from the first time, and not nearly as inviting as just pressing up against Naya and soaking in her after-orgasm glow. She’d fulfilled her promise, and that was more than enough for now.
“Tonight was about you,” she continues. She grins when Naya smiles at her lovingly, and adds: “How was all that for a distraction?”
Naya’s smile turns into a matching grin, and she just sighs blissfully as an answer. After a small pause, she giggles, and Heather raises her eyebrow, wanting in on the thought.
“What?” she asks.
Naya grins even wider, places a quick peck on her lips, and then says delightedly, “Well… We might not have won the poll… but the consolation prize was pretty good…”
Heather’s responding smile is a whole-hearted agreement.
“Dinner is served,” she says cheerfully, and drops the bags of Mexican takeout on the coffee table. She grins at Heather, who doesn’t return her smile. The dancer puts her laptop on the coffee table and leans forward, reaching for Naya’s hand.
“Babe, I gotta tell you some- ” she starts, but Naya cuts in with a jolt.
“Oh, cutlery,” she says and bounces out of the room. Heather runs a hand through her hair and across her forehead. How would she ever be able to break this to her girlfriend?
Naya comes back in and arranges the cutlery neatly on the table, smiling at her completely pointless handiwork. She smiles at Heather, but the smile quickly fades when she notices it’s not returned. “What’s wrong? Who died?” she asks worriedly, sitting on the couch next to her.
Heather takes her hand and squeezes it reassuringly, glancing up apologetically. “We lost, babe.”
“Lost what?” Naya asks curiously.
“The poll. We lost. Brittana’s out.”
The change that comes over Naya’s features is heartbreaking. The sparkle in her eyes dies and is replaced by a glistening disappointment. Her perpetually smiling mouth straightens out and the corners pull down sadly. Her shoulders slump as though she’s crumbling, and her voice shakes as she breathes out: “What?”
“I’m sorry. We lost to Nathan and Hayley, from One Tree Hill. By only a few percent,” Heather informs her miserably.
“But… we were so close! It was the top eight round!” Naya protests.
“I know, I know,” Heather just replies, patting her hand comfortingly.
“How?” There’s a little more force behind her voice. “How did we lose?” she asks, and it comes out almost angrily.
“Bots, maybe. L-chat gals were using them, but I guess other ships were trying to sink us too.”
“But they left all those hilarious comments! Hell, even I left some pretty funny ones,” Naya argues, and Heather puts her hands up defensively.
“You did, I know,” Heather says quickly, and adds with a devious smile, “You’re the captain of the ship, after all…”
Naya tilts her head to the side with a sharp, annoyed look. “That’s embarrassing.”
“Yeah,” Heather just utters, and reaches for the takeout, just as Naya starts up again.
“I just don’t get it,” she says, frowning. “Show me the poll.”
“Trust me, babe, we lost.”
“I want to see it for myself,” Naya returns obstinately, and Heather hands her the laptop. The brunette scrolls down the page and scrutinizes the winners with venom. Suddenly, she’s typing away furiously, pounding her fingers angrily onto the keyboard.
“You’re not leaving some lame comment, are you?” Heather asks.
“It’s not lame. It’s deserved. Those suckers should not have won.”
“It’s just a poll.”
“It’s more than that,” Naya replies indignantly.
“If you’re worried about not getting interviews together anymore - ”
“I’m not!” Naya cuts in, but Heather continues.
“ - you don’t have to be. Once Brittana happens, interviews will start to grow out of our ears, we’ll get so many.”
Naya stays quiet, and continues to type away. Heather rolls her eyes. “At least please don’t sign with your name,” she grumbles.
“Why not? They’ll never believe it’s me. They’ll think it’s a fan or something.”
“I know. And that’s just sad,” Heather says with a laugh, but Naya ignores her. Heather lets out a resigned sigh and sits back on the couch with a burrito, munching away peacefully as Naya leans progressively closer to the screen in her furious typing. The sound of keys being hit as though they deserved to be taken down a peg or two starts to grate on her nerves, and Heather presses the laptop closed with a snap. Naya barely has enough time to pull her fingers away and she looks up at Heather acrimoniously. “Stop. Eat,” Heather commands.
“I want to finish my comment.”
“Your comment will be there when we finish eating. The food’s getting cold,” Heather says reasonably, but when Naya doesn’t move and just stares at her stubbornly, she sighs and grabs her hand, running her thumb over her knuckles absentmindedly and catching her eye. “Come on. I know it sucks. A lot. But it’s not the end of the world. Just eat for now, okay?”
“Fine,” Naya snaps reluctantly, and bites into a burrito like it’s committed a crime against humanity.
A few minutes and stretching silences later, when they’re both sated and full, Heather sighs and leans against Naya, trying to dispel some of the tension by grabbing her hand and idly running her fingers over the inside of Naya’s palm. The brunette doesn’t respond, and instead is staring out into space with an expression of displeasure. Heather can’t decide if the look is anger or sadness. She smiles at an idea, and moves her idle touches to Naya’s thigh instead. There’s still no response, so she walks her fingers a little higher, between her legs, and squeezes her thigh playfully. She looks up at Naya to see her reaction, but she just briefly looks down at her and rolls her eyes. Heather sighs in defeat and sits up, grabbing the remote control and turning on the TV.
“Can I finish my comment now?” Naya asks.
“Whatever,” Heather sighs, and gets up to put in a DVD.
“What are we watching?” Naya pipes up as she types.
“Do you care?” Heather grumbles, and looks back at her. Naya tilts her head to the side.
“Yes, I do. Sorry I snapped before. It just sucks.”
“I know. But you’re getting way too worked up about this poll.”
Naya stays quiet, but doesn’t type anymore. She looks thoughtful.
“Movie?” Heather prompts, and Naya looks up as though she’s coming out of a reverie.
“Not a comedy. I don’t like watching comedies when I’m in a bad mood,” Naya says.
“Lost and Delirious?” Heather offers jokingly. Last time they’d watched it, they’d ended up sitting in shocked silence as the credits rolled by, both too upset to even cry or discuss it. Surprisingly, Naya nods.
“Yeah, okay,” she says, still looking sadly out to space.
“Earth to Naya,” Heather says, waving her hand in front of her face. Naya looks up, startled. “Remember what happened last time with this movie?” she reminds her.
“Oh. Right. You pick, then.”
Heather shrugs and puts in Romancing The Stone. Romance and action always worked as a pick-me-up for Naya - in both senses of the words...
The movie starts, and Heather settles into the couch, pulling her legs up and laying her head on the armrest. After a few minutes, she notices that she’s the only one laughing at the silly moments in the movie and glances at Naya, who’s still perusing the E!online website.
“Naya, watch the movie,” Heather chastises.
“Already seen it.”
“Me too. Doesn’t matter. Watch it with me.” Heather pokes Naya’s legs with her toe and stretches her legs so that they nudge the laptop away. “What are you doing, anyway?”
“Trying to figure out how we lost.”
“Oh my god, Nay, will you drop it? We lost! End of story!” Heather retorts with another sigh.
“No, it’s not,” Naya counters, and suddenly sits forward with a keen twinkle in her eye, like she’s finally figured everything out. “It’s because people don’t get Brittana. They don’t see past the Cheerio’s skirts and linked pinkies and friendship to something more. Cause there is something more.” Heather pinches the bridge of her nose. Here we go again. “Besides that, I think that Brittany and Santana could be really good role models for high school girls. Hell, if there had been Brittana when you or I were growing up… well, more you than me,” she adds jokingly, “then coming out wouldn’t have been such a bloody mess.”
“Okay, stop talking, please,” Heather guffaws, shocked that Naya would bring that up. Sure, she’d made a bit of a mess when they’d first started dating, but they were far past that now, and honestly, who could have expected anything different? Falling in love with your best friend just isn’t something that happens every day.
“No, I’m serious. Brittana can help. It’s important,” Naya insists, and Heather can see that she’s not even started with her rant yet.
“Brittana is still on!” Heather interjects, sitting up, when Naya takes a breath. “Nothing’s changed! We’ve already shot the scenes!”
“Visibility, Heather,” Naya reminds her as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Heather throws her head back on the couch with a frustrated sigh, and tries to drown out Naya’s voice by focusing on the patterns of paint on the ceiling. It proves to be an impossibly boring distraction, and Naya’s voice floats back in.
“ - and then there’s the whole gay panic thing. I mean, hello? Remind you of someone much?”
Heather looks up, and quirks an eyebrow. Did she just go there again? The pointed look Naya gives her answers her question.
“What is this, Bash-Heather-Day?” she asks curiously, and Naya stops ranting for a second to smile at her affectionately. She puts her hand on her thigh and leans forward.
“You know I love you,” Naya murmurs, and places a quick peck on her lips.
“Mmm, that’s more like it,” Heather agrees, and grabs the back of Naya’s neck to kiss her again when she starts to pull away.
“I wasn’t finished talking yet,” Naya murmurs unclearly around Heather’s lips; Heather doesn’t relent with the kiss.
“Yes, you were,” Heather insists.
“Heather,” Naya whines disapprovingly. Heather just pulls her a little closer, putting her other hand on Naya’s hip and slipping her fingers under the hem of Naya’s shirt. Naya let out a small breath, and Heather smiles when she doesn’t complain and try to pull away again.
But, the moment of weakness doesn’t last, and after a minute, Naya pulls away with a jolt and raises her eyebrows. Heather’s mouth is still parted, and she’s pouting slightly, leaning forward breathlessly as though she’s kissing the air left behind in Naya’s unexpected absence.
“Are you just trying to distract me?” Naya asks accusingly.
Heather rearranges her face into something more innocent, but leans forward again anyway and slides a hand around the back of Naya’s neck. “No, babe, of course not,” she mumbles against her lips, and a corner of Naya’s mouth twitches in a smile.
“Because it’s not going to work,” Naya says resolutely, pulling away enough to make her words clear and intelligible. “This is not over. Brittana should have won.”
“Mmhmm,” Heather agrees half-heartedly, far more interested in running her hands through Naya’s hair than the poll and a fictional couple on Glee.
Naya gives up for another few seconds, kissing Heather back. Heather’s hand inconspicuously continues its path under Naya’s shirt, running her slightly cold hands over Naya’s skin and raising goosebumps. But, again, Naya pulls away (of course, just as Heather is reaching for gold), and sits back on the couch. Heather holds back a whine of annoyance, but instead of pouting, decides to fix Naya’s reluctant and petulant mood once and for all. As Naya leans back into the couch, Heather moves with her, and swings her leg over her lap so she’s straddling the brunette. Naya raises an eyebrow at her, but still puts her hands on Heather’s hips; Heather takes it as the first battle won.
“Why are you - ” Naya begins, but loses her words when Heather leans down and kisses her, harder this time. The angle is a little tricky because of the height difference, and Heather is forced to bend Naya’s neck so far for the kiss that she’s almost leaning over the back of the couch.
“Because I want you,” Heather purrs, and then adds with a smile, “and I want to distract you.”
Naya lets out an amused huff. “Nothing can distract - ”
Heather breaks the kiss and pushes herself forward against Naya so that there’s barely an inch of them that’s not touching. “I can.” She pulls back when Naya offers no contention, slides her hands under Naya’s shirt again, and flicks her tongue against Naya’s neck. The brunette lets out a contented sigh and lets her head fall back onto the back of the couch.
“But Brittana - ” she whines wistfully. Heather can hear the battle’s almost won.
“I thought you always call them Santitany?” she asks playfully, sliding her hands up further and cupping her breasts. She squeezes a breast mischievously as she says: “I like Santitany better.”
Naya looks a little flustered at the commanding way Heather is starting to control the situation, taking matters into her own hands - literally - but she manages to sputter a reply, “But we lost, and I have to… I mean… Brittana - ”
“Well, Brittana will just have to wait their turn.” Heather places a line of kisses along Naya’s jaw, and says plainly, “I come first.”
“Don’t you always?” Naya teases, quirking an eyebrow wickedly.
Heather pulls back with a mock-appalled expression. “What on earth are you talking about?” Naya raises her eyebrows at her and Heather breaks out into a sheepish grin. “Okay, fine. But can’t you blame me that I can’t get enough of you.”
“That’s true,” Naya jokes, moving her hands from Heather’s hips to her back, below her tank top. “But somehow you always do come first.”
“Not tonight,” Heather promises, forgetting momentarily about the playful jabs Naya’s hit her with so far. Naya looks at her skeptically, but the expression fades when Heather says simply: “I mean it.” Naya smiles and looks up at her lovingly, and Heather’s pretty sure Brittana is the last thing on her mind right now.
Then Heather grins, letting the moment pass and focusing again on her plan. She leans down, kisses up Naya’s neck, and breathes into her ear: “Tonight I’m gonna make you scream.” She feels Naya shiver in anticipation beneath her, and it spurs her on. She continues her kisses, dragging her lips along Naya’s neck. She remembers the first time they did this. She had been so nervous, but now it’s more familiar. Still, it hasn’t lost any of its appeal, of its excitement and delight, and she shivers at both the memories and the expectations.
Meanwhile, Naya has moved her hands from Heather’s back to grab her ass, squeezing and pulling Heather closer against her. She leans forward when the movement causes Heather to pull her face away from her neck, and kisses across Heather’s neck instead. She sucks on the skin, and admires her quick work when a purple hickey springs to life in a few dedicated seconds. Heather notices her grin, and slaps a hand on the hickey.
“Great, now I need to go buy cover-up,” she jokes.
“I have plenty,” Naya replies. Heather smirks; usually it’s Naya with the hickeys. It gives her a quick idea and she bends down and sucks on Naya’s neck before she expects the brunette to be able to respond. But respond she does, and before she knows it, Naya has her pinned beneath her, her hands grappled on the armrest above her and her legs still around Naya’s waist. She links her feet behind her back and tightens her legs, bringing Naya’s body flush against her. The collision makes her gasp, and she loses some of the laughter creeping in her eyes to be replaced with lust. Naya notices, and brings her face down to hungrily capture Heather’s mouth. Heather flicks her tongue between her lips, teasing past Naya’s lips, who opens her mouth eagerly, but Heather doesn’t enter. Instead, she continues to slide past lips until the brunette is panting with need and chasing her tongue with her own.
A cell phone rings from the kitchen, and Heather pulls away with a small groan. Her lips are slick and heated, and all she wants to do is keep kissing Naya, but Naya tilts her head.
“Are you going to get that?”
“I can ignore it, if you want,” Heather purrs, and wishes Naya would be irresponsible for once and just kiss her again, but Naya looks at her sternly. “Fine, fine,” she grumbles, and unhooks her legs from Naya’s waist reluctantly as the brunette sits back and rearranges her shirt.
“You should really change that ringtone,” Naya jokes, humming along absentmindedly to ‘Me Against The Music’.
“No way. It reminds me of our duet every time,” Heather replies, and gives Naya a quick peck before ambling to the kitchen and picking up the phone. “’Ello?” she calls cheerfully.
“Okay, you’re still alive, then,” Dianna’s voice replies with relief.
“Uuh, yeah?” Heather answers uncertainly.
“Did she find the poll yet?” Dianna asks worriedly.
“Yeah, I told her about it.”
“And she didn’t flip?”
“She got a little upset. But it’s fine. I distracted her,” Heather replies with a faint smile.
“Phew. Dodged a bullet then,” Dianna says in relief.
“Brittana can’t win everything.”
“Yeah, sure, but it’s not really fair when the competition is cheating!” Dianna replies indignantly, and Heather raises an eyebrow.
“Cheating?”
There’s a pause. “Yeah, didn’t you - ”
Suddenly there’s a screech from the living room, and Naya’s voice sounds shrilly through the apartment. “Oh my god!”
“Shit,” Dianna whispers.
“I guess she found out…” Heather mumbles, biting her lip and surreptitiously glancing around for an exit.
“Run, Heather. Run. Come to our place. We’ll keep you safe!” Dianna all but hisses into the phone.
“Can’t. Talk to you later. Damage control now,” Heather says back quickly, and hangs up the phone, cutting off Dianna’s fearful warnings. She tiptoes into the living room, and sees Naya sitting on the couch with the laptop in her lap, fuming. She glares up when Heather comes in.
“They hacked the poll. They friggin’ hacked the poll!” she exclaims. Heather takes a tentative step closer.
“I know.”
“You knew?” Naya accuses.
“No,” Heather answers quickly. “Dianna just told me.”
Naya takes a calming breath, and Heather can see that she’s reminding herself what’s she’s angry at: the poll, not Heather. The blonde takes another step forward, testing the waters and hoping the danger is subsiding.
“I just… I can’t even… they cheated!” Naya continues, her anger making her lose her thoughts before they tumble off her lips. “They made it impossible for Brittana to get past 49%. That’s why we lost. It’s the only reason why we lost.”
“I know.”
“It’s so unfair,” Naya hisses. “Stupid Nayley shippers. Who even still watches One Tree Hill?”
“Brittany does,” Heather points out with an encouraging smile, but it’s clearly too early for jokes; Naya looks up at her with a glare. She gets up from the couch and starts to pace.
“We need to email. Rally. Get everyone together and just twitter the crap out of E!online.”
“Babe,” Heather mutters, reaching out to stop Naya’s pacing. Naya pulls out of her grip.
“I’m serious. This is so unfair. Nayley should be disqualified.”
“We don’t know if it was a Nayley fan that did it,” Heather points out, but Naya glares at her.
“We could have gotten an interview out of this, could have gotten half of America to see that lesbians, bisexuals, this - us even! - are not bad, gross, whatever,” she rants, sweeping her arm around the apartment at the mention of their relationship. Heather looks at her sympathetically.
“It’ll get there,” she says positively.
“Brittana winning could have gotten it closer,” Naya argues, and stomps on the ground like a child denied candy. “We should have won!”
Heather’s lips twitch in guilty amusement when she sees that there are almost angry tears squeezing out of the corners of Naya’s eyes. She takes a step closer when Naya begins to pace again, and tugs her around. Naya refuses the movement, but Heather pulls harder, and then places both her hands on the sides of Naya’s face, concentrating her gaze.
“Naya, stop. Come on. It’s just a poll. We lost. It’s not that big a deal,” Heather reassures. Naya starts to interrupt, but Heather is quicker. “I’m serious. Calm down. If you don’t, I’m going to call Dianna and Lea and tell them you’ve taken me hostage until someone makes Brittana the winners of the poll.”
There’s a sudden twinkle in Naya’s eye, and Heather lets out a disbelieving laugh when she realizes she’s actually considering the idea. “Naya!” she exclaims, pushing the brunette away a bit.
“What? I could make it look good,” Naya argues, laughing, tugging Heather back. “I could tie you up and everything,” she continues, and suddenly there’s a new glint in her eye. Heather smirks, and pulls Naya’s body closer. She stays quiet, afraid of ruining the moment. Naya pipes up instead. “I can’t believe we got beat because someone hacked the poll,” she says bitterly. Heather can see Naya’s temper hasn’t completely quieted down, but she’s no longer seeing red. Naya groans and tilts her head back. “Fuck,” she hisses, and digs her fingers into Heather’s waist.
Heather waits a moment to gauge Naya’s actions, but the brunette stays the way she is, head tilted back and gripping her waist, so she leans down to kiss Naya’s skin tentatively, wary of another lash-out, but unable to resist Naya’s inviting neck. Naya shivers at the touch, and pulls herself straight. She catches Heather’s eye, who has pulled back guardedly, but Heather can see a change: there’s still the anger, and bitterness, but there’s a hunger that’s all too familiar and makes her muscles tug and want to pull Naya as close as physics allows. Naya beats her to it; she grinds her mouth against Heather’s and winds her hands in her hair so tightly that Heather almost whimpers. “Distract me,” she groans huskily. Heather feels herself getting wet instantly at the command, and crushes her lips down passionately.
Naya pushes forward, and Heather stumbles until her back hits a wall. Naya shoves her hips forward and pins her there. Heather gasps as the movement, and at Naya’s unexpected forcefulness. It’s uncommon, and the roles were reversed not too long ago.
“Naya, slow down,” Heather whimpers as Naya traces a heated, hungry path across her neck and collarbone. She pulls Heather shirt down to kiss across the top of her breast.
“I don’t want to,” Naya mumbles back, and looks up briefly at Heather. “This is good, right?”
Heather can’t help but nod, and Naya continues with her kisses. She grinds her hips forward, bringing one of her legs up, and Heather gasps. It’s almost as if Naya wants to take her right then and there, clothes and all; grind into her until they’re both gasping, and collapse exhausted against the wall. On one hand, it’s an appealing thought, but Heather remembers her promise. The point of this was distraction - for Naya, not for her. She nearly groans at the promise she made because there’s a pounding need between her legs that Naya could satisfy in minutes, if she asked - but all she needs to do is remind herself of Naya’s look of love after the promise, and it makes up her mind.
Naya starts to undo the button on Heather’s jeans, and Heather covers her hands to stop her. “Naya,” she says simply, and the brunette looks up at her distractedly (which clearly was the point, but the method was not what Heather had wanted). “Bed,” Heather suggests.
“No, I like it here,” Naya replies. She glances quickly at the laptop behind them as though she’s still hoping for a rerun of the last round. Heather pulls Naya’s face back, and kisses her softly. It proves to be a better distraction than the passionate, needy kisses of before, and Naya’s body melts against her. She loosens her grip on Heather’s jeans, and Heather takes her hand to lead her to the bedroom. Naya glances back forlornly to the living room one last time; Heather sees her jaw set in anger and disappointment, but when she looks at her, it’s only lust and ardor left. Heather opens her mouth to assure Naya they’ll get to it, that she’ll distract her and make everything better again, but Naya grabs hold of her and kisses her again. She twitches her hips, and Heather falls back onto the bed with Naya on top of her.
“Jeez, you really can’t wait, can you?” Heather asks, partly amused and partly (actually, extremely) turned on.
“Nah-uh,” Naya murmurs, and lifts Heather shirt to kiss across her stomach. She flicks her tongue across her abs, and Heather squirms with memories. She’s glad they’re in private here, because she doesn’t think she could resist kissing all sense out of Naya for a second time this month.
“Shirt,” Naya hums, and Heather strips. She feels hands at the zipper of her jeans.
“You too,” she says back, and when Naya pulls of her blouse, Heather reaches around her, unclasps and pulls off her bra, and rolls them both over. Naya smiles up at her, and Heather appreciates the view from above: Naya’s neck is still tinged pink from her kisses, her pupils are dilated with longing, her hair is brushed across the bedspread, and her breasts are within reach of mouth, hands, and sight. Heather takes advantage and brings down her lips. She kisses Naya’s nipple, exploring and teasing the sensitive skin with her lips like she’s done a thousand times before, and then closing her mouth around it when she hears Naya’s breath catch at the touch. Hands wind into her hair to urge her on.
“Heather…” Naya breathes. Behind the arousal, there’s a calm in her sigh that Heather hasn’t heard since before she found out about the poll. Plan ‘Distract Naya’ is going off without a hitch.
Heather pulls away for a few moments to pull off her jeans and shimmy out of her underwear. She unzips and takes off Naya’s as well, sliding her hands suggestively past Naya’s skin as she slips them off her legs. When Naya kicks off the item, Heather runs her hands back up her legs, from ankle to thigh, and rests them a few inches away from where Naya desperately needs them to be. The pause makes Naya look up, and she twitches her hips.
“Heather?”
In answer, Heather slides her hands over Naya’s hips, and grips her there. She brings her own body down and slides a leg between Naya’s. She holds there for a second, and then, with an impish grin, grinds down again. The pressure pulls a gasp from the Latina’s throat, and she looks up at Heather in wonder. This position… it’s unexpected. It’s not something they do very often… and honestly, she can’t remember why.
Heather grinds her hips down again and presses her leg against Naya’s clit. Naya presses back in response, and soon there’s a rhythm as they search for friction on each other’s bodies. Heather slides her hand to Naya’s back to guide her movement, and continues to rub, shuddering at the sensation of Naya’s abs against her own, breasts against breasts, Naya’s wetness across her thigh, and, most importantly, the building pleasure between her legs. She hopes Naya is feeling it as much as she is, and redoubles her efforts to fulfill her promise to make Naya, finally, come first.
As the pleasure builds, Heather moves her position. She sits up on her knee, hooking her leg partway over Naya’s, and pulls Naya’s hips up to meet hers. She tries not to break the rhythm as she moves to increases the friction, but she falters for a second, and then presses forward harder to reestablish it. Naya gasps and lets out a short moan. Heather feels another spurt of wetness against her inner thigh, and moves her hips to rub their clits together.
“God… Heather!” Naya moans, pressing her head back against the bed and keeping her hips raised to grind against Heather. She reaches for her blindly, and Heather grabs her hand. A few seconds later, and Naya squeezes her hand tightly, and Heather knows she’s getting close. She rubs against her harder, desperately controlling her own need for release to bring Naya closer instead, but her breath is coming out as raggedly, as quickly, and it turns into gutteral gasps. The brunette whimpers, and the whimpers turns to moans, and then Heather feels it: the shudder, the tension, and the thrust that tells her Naya is almost over the edge. She lets herself let go a little, and with a final push, they both come undone. Naya calls Heather’s name in a breathless mantra and grips her hand, pushing herself up off the bed and gasping at the pleasure coursing through her body, filling every corner, muscle, and nerve. Heather lets her head fall back and cries out, giving in to the pleasure - almost. She grips Naya’s hips to guide herself against her and bring her down from her orgasm as she needs it, sacrificing some of her own pleasure to amplify her girlfriend’s. Naya feels it, and smiles at her as she continues to writhe and gasp.
After a few more seconds, Naya’s moans subside into soft, satisfied gasps, and she shudders back down onto the bed. Heather holds herself up for a second more, closing her eyes and savoring the flavor on the air of the scent of their combined sweat and arousal before letting herself slide past Naya’s legs and collapse on top of her. Naya lets out a breath at the sudden impact, and then laughs vivaciously. She rolls them both over, brings her hands to Heather’s neck, and smiles as she peppers thankful and happy kisses across Heather’s grinning face.
“That was so good,” Naya purrs between kisses and breathless panting. “So, so good.” She squirms over Heather’s body, and the blonde wraps her arms around the smaller girl, loving the way their bodies fit together.
Heather laughs at a thought: they’d just fulfilled Brittana’s canon sex move. It seems strangely appropriate in the current circumstances. Naya tilts her head at the laugh, curious, but Heather just kisses her with a smile. After a few seconds, she sighs into the kiss, and Naya lays her head down on her shoulder, idly kissing her neck once in a while. Heather closes her eyes, satisfied, but something is nagging at the back of her mind. This satisfaction… feels almost out of place. Like she’s forgetting something…
With a jolt, she realizes what. She still hasn’t fulfilled her promise. She slaps her hand on her forehead, startling Naya out of her languid doze.
“Oh my god! I did it again, didn’t I?” she utters.
“Did what?” Naya asks, perplexed. She lifts her head and props herself up.
“I didn’t let you come first, like I promised,” Heather almost whines, annoyed at herself.
“We came together,” Naya reasons with a smile. “It’s fine.” Heather continues to look skeptical and thoughtful. “Really. Heather: it felt great. You have no idea. It was so, so good for me,” Naya reassures her.
“No,” Heather says simply, tightens her arms around Naya, and rolls them both over yet again. She quickly sets to work, kissing across Naya’s neck and shoulder as the brunette giggles.
“Babe…” Naya says with a smile, but the blonde silences her with a passionate kiss. When she pulls away, she’s happy to see Naya is a little breathless.
“Shush. Let me do my thing.”
Naya bites her tongue and nods excitedly, abruptly ready for more. Heather smiles at her eagerness, and nips on the skin of her neck. Naya grips the back of her neck to guide her lower, and Heather continues her kisses and soft nips along the inside of her breasts, down her abdomen, over her belly button (she dips her tongue across it as she goes), and below the tan line of Naya’s waist. She kisses lower, and Naya’s stomach muscles tense in expectation and she automatically spreads her thighs to give Heather better access.
Heather looks up, and roams her eyes over Naya’s body; she takes in her flushed face, awed eyes, the rise of her stomach as she breathes in and out excitedly, her shapely breasts, and then lower to her sex, where her wetness is spread across her from their scissoring. Heather’s stomach flips at the memory and the sight, and she lets out an aroused breath. So sexy… she thinks. She glances up once more at Naya, and then bends down to lick across her clit. Naya shudders beneath her, letting out a breathless sigh.
“Oh,” she moans softly, and Heather licks across her again, molding her lips over the sensitive nub and flicking her tongue against it. She presses her hands onto Naya’s hips and lowers herself on the mattress to dip her tongue between Naya’s folds. She knows Naya like the back of her hand - better even, because her tongue almost seems to have a better memory than her eyes. Muscle memory, she thinks with a smile, and flicks her tongue across Naya, easily remembering the ways and places she likes to be touched, and how hard. Soon, Naya’s breath is coming in quick gasps again, and she’s breathing soft pleas of More, and Oh my god, and Heather!
Heather presses herself lower into the mattress and lets her tongue dip with the movement to push herself deeper into Naya. Her wetness slides across her lips and tongue, and Heather laps up the intoxicating taste of it. She lets out a shuddering breath against Naya’s slippery skin and pulls away for half a second, but Naya’s fingers wind into her hair and she moans her name, begging for more.
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she gasps out.
Heather bites her lip, her teeth dragging across it slick with saliva and the thrilling taste of Naya, and tries to control her own aching arousal. She delves her tongue back into Naya and pushes it up, hard, and Naya gasps and bucks her hips automatically.
“So close,” she moans, and Heather pushes in again. She brings her hand from Naya’s hip to between her thighs, slides over soaked skin, and rubs her thumb over her clit, pushing and teasing it as Naya’s gasps and moans increase in pitch. Her hips buck up again, and Heather tries to hold her down, but it’s no use, so she goes with her rhythm, and soon Naya is pushing her head against the bed, arching her back, and searching wantonly for something in the sheets to hold on to. Heather feels a spurt of wetness in her mouth, and she nearly comes herself at the feeling of Naya’s muscles tightening around her tongue as Naya shudders tumultuously to orgasm. She chants her moans and they echo through the room, rounded off by a drawn out cry of Heather’s name.
As Naya shudders beneath her, Heather moves her tongue up her slit and gently laps at her clit to bring her down. When the shaking subsides, she kisses across all the skin between her thighs, coating her lips and tongue with Naya’s taste, and grins at the continued shudders that the small touches elicit. She moves her kisses up and drags her lips across Naya’s heated skin. She smiles at the slick trail she leaves behind as she goes, the combination of her saliva and Naya’s fluids, and almost doubles back to lick her skin again and take up the tang of it until there’s nothing but her own taste left. But Naya tugs with the hand still lazily entwined in Heather’s hair, and Heather looks up at her with a smile. The Latina still has her eyes closed, and the back of her hand is resting sluggishly against her flushed cheek. She runs the back of her pinky idly along her lips as though she’s imagining Heather’s kiss, and a smile pulls at the corner of her lips. Heather mirrors the smile, rolls off her, and props herself up on her elbow to admire the breathtaking beauty beside her. Naya opens her eyes to find Heather’s dazzling blue ones looking deeply into hers.
“Wow,” Naya breathes, and brushes her lips over Heather’s. She pulls back, licks them, and smiles at the oddly familiar taste.
“Mmm,” Heather hums and just enjoys the sight of Naya so happy and satisfied. She twirls a curl of her messy hair through her fingers and grins.
“Come here,” Naya purrs, and opens her arms to let Heather slide up against her. Heather drapes an arm over Naya’s chest, resting her hand on her breast (honestly, it’s just the best spot), and pulls her close. She shifts her hips and hooks a leg over Naya’s hip. Her own wetness slides across Naya’s skin, and Naya raises an amused eyebrow. “Shall I help you with that?” she teases, and starts to trail her fingers along Heather’s arm and twitch her hips between her legs, but Heather stops her.
“No,” Heather whispers simply, and brushes her lips lightly over Naya’s. There’s still a need she can’t deny, but it’s distant, satisfied from the first time, and not nearly as inviting as just pressing up against Naya and soaking in her after-orgasm glow. She’d fulfilled her promise, and that was more than enough for now.
“Tonight was about you,” she continues. She grins when Naya smiles at her lovingly, and adds: “How was all that for a distraction?”
Naya’s smile turns into a matching grin, and she just sighs blissfully as an answer. After a small pause, she giggles, and Heather raises her eyebrow, wanting in on the thought.
“What?” she asks.
Naya grins even wider, places a quick peck on her lips, and then says delightedly, “Well… We might not have won the poll… but the consolation prize was pretty good…”
Heather’s responding smile is a whole-hearted agreement.