insomnia ficlets: the femmeslash edition
Tried for bed, couldn't manage it, here's some Kono/Jenna schmoop! I am going to try to sleep again now, fingers crossed that it sticks. I assume it goes without saying that if I awaken to find lady-bashing, I will quash it thoroughly and without mercy. Yes? Yes.
Jenna's sitting on the kitchen counter when Kono gets in, back against the wall, bare legs draped over each other, feet in the sink. Kono's apartment is small but not that small--there's a couch if Jenna'd wanted it, a bed she could have stretched across if she'd been so inclined. It's twilight, orange-gold sunlight slipping through the window and catching on the corner of that vase her mother bought her, and Kono's used to Jenna's oddities by now. She's wearing a t-shirt, too big, with the name of some 5K run on it, and there's a dogeared paperback in her lap.
"God," Kono says, leaning her board against the wall and shutting the door, "you're such a nerd."
"You like me," says Jenna, without looking up, and fuck, fuck, Kono does. Even now her breath catches in her chest, watching the way Jenna's left foot scratches absently behind her right ankle, the way her finger's stuck between two pages of the novel, holding her place. Kono's found her all over this apartment, tucked away in odd spots, in seats Kono would never have thought to take--in the bathtub, empty, once, and once in the corner behind the couch, legs crossed lotus-style.
It's easy enough to connect the dots this time, the half-eaten container of hummus balanced on the drying rack, the bag of baby carrots leaning against Jenna's thigh. It's still funny, endearing, maybe a little bit beautiful; how this woman has crept up into Kono's life, coming to rest in spots Kono hadn't realized were empty. She crosses to her in two steps, three--it's a tiny apartment, but it's big enough, and when Kono slides a hand along that smooth expanse of bared skin, Jenna puts the book down.
"Hey," she says, and Kono kisses her, anticipates her shift, catches the carrots before they can fall. Jenna laughs, clumsy, against her mouth, pulls her feet out of the sink to wrap her legs around Kono's waist, and bites down. It's a gentle slide, lip and tooth, Jenna's slim fingers in Kono's still-wet hair; Kono sees sunsets and starbursts behind closed eyes, hears the ocean, the nightfall, her own staccato heartbeat.
"Mmmm," Jenna says. "See? I knew you liked me." Her fingers slip down, across Kono's neck, to untie the bikini string peaking out from under her top. The suit's still damp--she fumbles it a little, and Kono leans in and catches her mouth again, firmer now, just because. They're new enough that it's not quite rote, this dance of touch-and-be-touched, and Kono is still learning the hidden places on Jenna's body, mapping the spots behind her ears, beneath her breasts.
"You caught me," Kono says, grinning. Jenna tightens her legs around Kono's hips, runs a heel down the length of Kono's spine, and hell, this is going to be love one of these days, rushing over them like high tide. Kono puts a hand on Jenna's shoulder, buries the other in her hair, and presses the truth of that into her mouth, swift and sure, possibility sweet on her tongue.
Jenna's sitting on the kitchen counter when Kono gets in, back against the wall, bare legs draped over each other, feet in the sink. Kono's apartment is small but not that small--there's a couch if Jenna'd wanted it, a bed she could have stretched across if she'd been so inclined. It's twilight, orange-gold sunlight slipping through the window and catching on the corner of that vase her mother bought her, and Kono's used to Jenna's oddities by now. She's wearing a t-shirt, too big, with the name of some 5K run on it, and there's a dogeared paperback in her lap.
"God," Kono says, leaning her board against the wall and shutting the door, "you're such a nerd."
"You like me," says Jenna, without looking up, and fuck, fuck, Kono does. Even now her breath catches in her chest, watching the way Jenna's left foot scratches absently behind her right ankle, the way her finger's stuck between two pages of the novel, holding her place. Kono's found her all over this apartment, tucked away in odd spots, in seats Kono would never have thought to take--in the bathtub, empty, once, and once in the corner behind the couch, legs crossed lotus-style.
It's easy enough to connect the dots this time, the half-eaten container of hummus balanced on the drying rack, the bag of baby carrots leaning against Jenna's thigh. It's still funny, endearing, maybe a little bit beautiful; how this woman has crept up into Kono's life, coming to rest in spots Kono hadn't realized were empty. She crosses to her in two steps, three--it's a tiny apartment, but it's big enough, and when Kono slides a hand along that smooth expanse of bared skin, Jenna puts the book down.
"Hey," she says, and Kono kisses her, anticipates her shift, catches the carrots before they can fall. Jenna laughs, clumsy, against her mouth, pulls her feet out of the sink to wrap her legs around Kono's waist, and bites down. It's a gentle slide, lip and tooth, Jenna's slim fingers in Kono's still-wet hair; Kono sees sunsets and starbursts behind closed eyes, hears the ocean, the nightfall, her own staccato heartbeat.
"Mmmm," Jenna says. "See? I knew you liked me." Her fingers slip down, across Kono's neck, to untie the bikini string peaking out from under her top. The suit's still damp--she fumbles it a little, and Kono leans in and catches her mouth again, firmer now, just because. They're new enough that it's not quite rote, this dance of touch-and-be-touched, and Kono is still learning the hidden places on Jenna's body, mapping the spots behind her ears, beneath her breasts.
"You caught me," Kono says, grinning. Jenna tightens her legs around Kono's hips, runs a heel down the length of Kono's spine, and hell, this is going to be love one of these days, rushing over them like high tide. Kono puts a hand on Jenna's shoulder, buries the other in her hair, and presses the truth of that into her mouth, swift and sure, possibility sweet on her tongue.