Fic: Tired (Heather Morris/Naya Rivera RPF)
NOTE: SHIT. It's been a while. I've managed to catch up on S2 of Glee! Exams are over! Summer's here! I don't live in the library any more! Life can finally continue.
Title: Tired
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Heather Morris/Naya Rivera
Spoilers: none
Summary: Heather and Naya have a disagreement on tour.
Disclaimer: You know the drill.
Naya’s tired.
No, scratch that, not tired; exhausted. Completely ruined. Annihilated, if you will.
She looks at herself in the back of her iPod- she’s pretty sure she could fit an entire conveyer belt under her eyes, never mind a suitcase. Her mouth feels dry and her throat even more so, tickling unpleasantly for every rubbery swallow she takes a crack at. She knows she’s coming down with something. Best not to think about that. Really though, she’s already falling apart.
She rubs at her neck, lets it click into place and throws her head back against her pillow. Because, fuck.
As much as her feet hurt, as sore as she is, as desperate as she might be for a massage- who it comes from, she doesn’t much care- Naya can’t fall asleep.
She’s been trying. She has. She’s been trying ever since the one blinked to two, red, square numbers burning the backs of her eyelids tauntingly. She tried the counting thing; the sheep thing that always seemed to work for Heather. All she pictures is a bunch of lamb chops. She’s not sure whether she should feel starved or nauseous.
She's become a fucking insomniac. All that real, clinical shit and everything. Really, she should look into that, get some pills or start that Zen Yoga shit or whatever. She cannot fucking sleep.
It’s exactly 2:11. The next time she blinks, the digits change again and she growls. She’s listening to Chopin. Some etude or nocturne or whatever thing Heather had downloaded for her. Fact is, she’s got a full fucking playlist of this shit and instead of real song titles, the ones that slide across her iPod screen are ‘I love you buttface’ and then the next one, ‘No, really” and the next, ‘You are such a sexypants’ until song fourteen which says ‘You better be asleep'.
Naya wants to cry. She rolls over to face the wall. The bus is steady and buzzes beneath her, filling her with a heaviness that locks down her limbs but makes her heart pound faster. They’ll be in another city come morning. There will be new crowds and new lights on new stages.
And some things will remain. Like Heather, she’ll be there too; right by her side. And maybe they’ll hold hands; maybe Naya will get over it. And maybe Heather will look at her like she created the world and Naya will let her.
She almost screams when her bunk dips and a body settles in behind her. But the scent is familiar and the warmth just perfect and then Heather wraps an arm around her waist, kissing her hair. Naya sighs softly; scoots closer. It’s like they’re on the same wavelength or something. At times it scares the shit out of her, how in sync they are. Mostly though, she only feels very safe and very proud and so very helpless.
“No wonder you can’t fall asleep,” Heaher whispers, “it’s like the fucking Red Light District up in this joint.”
Naya laughs. She watches as Heather leans over her and turns the small alarm clock off.
“Mmm, better.”
Hands sneak beneath her shirt and Naya can’t help the flutter that settles at the pit of her stomach. Part of her wishes she’d put on something hotter; something decidedly not consisting of a black, frayed tank top and basic white boy shorts.
Heather doesn't seem to mind though.
Because there are five careful fingers circling her bellybutton in idle strokes.
The other part of Naya, the other part wishes…oh god, fuck, it has been a while hasn’t it?
And yet.
“Don’t.”
Heather flattens her palm under Naya’s breasts and pulls her closer, spooning her tightly, legs tangling and slipping against each other in practised unison. In other words, just fucking right.
“I said I was sorry.”
The tone cuts harsher than Naya’s prepared for and she instantly bristles, going rigid against Heather’s tentative touch.
“You don’t sound like you are.”
“Nay, come on. All you’ve done is ignore me the whole day,” Heather nestles even closer, stubbornly trying to break through to her. “I’ve missed you. We spent every hour together and I’ve missed you.”
At this, Naya can’t help but soften, moving blindly in the dark until they’re face to face. She reaches up and collides with Heather’s jaw.
“Why did you say it then?”
From the pair of them, Naya has always been the one completely enamoured with the Brittana storyline. From the get go, she’d jumped in head first, embracing their characters’ heart-breaking love affair with zeal and gusto. ‘It’s a story that needs to be told. So many kids are depending on this,’ she’d said.
Heather didn’t like it; didn’t like the idea of Brittany taking her Naya away even if they were one and the same; didn’t like Brittany kissing Naya and Brittany holding her hand and Brittany making her laugh.
She doesn’t want the entire world to see what they have, exactly what they're like. Call her a brat but she doesn’t fucking want to share.
“Because Brit belongs with Artie. They’re two peas in a pod.”
She doesn’t have to lean in to know there are tears on Naya’s cheeks. She can tell because Naya’s breathing changes and quiet hiccups fall from her mouth and all Heather can do is grab her fiercely and cradle the back of her head.
“And because I, belong with you.”
“You just-”
“They’re two different things Naya.”
“N-no. Because y-you said,” Naya struggles and fusses at her face, wiping her nose clumsily, “Artie’s your soulmate.”
“Babe. Brittany is Artie’s soulmate. But just because they’re meant to be together, doesn’t mean that we can’t be. Naya, I love you, so much, you know that. You’re basically my everything. And I want to spend every day with you, I want to work together and mess around together but Fox isn’t ready for this. I’m not ready.” The words are hushed but clear, washing over Naya in a calm rhythm.
Heather does adore Naya, loves her more than she thought she could love anyone. It's entirely pathetic, how she’d give her anything; let her take everything. But it’s been a hell of a day and right now, right now all she wants, needs, is to curl up with her best friend and let her breathing fall in time with Naya’s until they both pass out.
“I’m in love with you.”
“I’m in love with you too,” Naya whispers, and then after a while, “It was really fucking hard not being able to touch you. I couldn’t stand it.”
“You could’ve touched me.”
“No.”
“Your silly pride got in the way.”
That earns Heather a slap across her arm and she giggles.
“Oh, okay, yeah, sorry. What pride? My bad,” she grins.
Naya gasps, shoving Heather away playfully until her wrists are circled by Heather’s fingers and she’s being pushed onto her back, snug in what little space they have to move.
“Look at you, half naked. No modesty, let alone pride, I really wonder sometimes, why-”
Their lips come crashing in a burning kiss and Naya almost shuts down at the sweet way Heather wraps her up in a hug, cradling her with a hand on her back and one behind her neck. “-I didn’t come to your bunk sooner.”
They both laugh, feet playing underneath the covers. Naya holds Heather’s hair back and wraps her legs around her waist. It’s so perfect, having this human hot water bottle, with a strong, beating heart and soft skin.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Never again, I promise.”
“Shh, I know, come here,” she brings Heather down for another kiss, lighter this time, slow, sleepy, “I know. I’m an idiot.”
It’s not always that Heather’s this assertive, this gentle. She’s a dancer in every sense; fast, always moving, always changing, unsettled. Sometimes Naya wonders if maybe Heather may have a mild case of ADD. But with Naya and her blind trust, Heather manages to find peace.
“Naya?”
“Hmm?” Naya pushes her nose against Heather’s own, whimpering out a shaky ‘oh’ when she notices a hand sliding beneath her to smooth along the outside of her thigh. Then there are blunt nails trailing up her sensitive skin and a dull thud as Naya’s heels slump against Heather’s lower back.
Hot kisses land on the side of her neck, just below her jaw, down to her collar bones and Heather’s tugging on her tank top, breathing steadily through her mouth and engulfing Naya in a thick, wet haze.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” Heather whispers into her ear, trembling the moment Naya lifts her hips and cants them just there, just so they meet completely, just so the heat is painfully. Fucking. Obvious.
“I love you.”
“I wouldn’t trade you for the world. I wouldn’t change you at all,” she continues, voice huskier with every turn of Naya’s head, every tilt so Heather can steal kisses.
Another sighed, ‘I-I love you.’
The way Naya says it makes Heather die a little and each tiny tremor in her chest leaves her dizzy and aching and pulsing all over. Naya’s slick beneath her, sweat beading on her forehead; Heather’s mouth and fingers travel easily against her. She touches everything she can get her hands on, the speed of Naya’s breaths her only guide in the dark.
Naya starts to beg, hot little pleas into the flushed skin of Heather’s shoulder, “I won’t- it won’t take much- I’m…” She loves the foreplay; loves Heather spoiling her and teasing her, torturing her beautifully with slow, slow fingertips kneading curves and plateaus. But it’s not the time nor the place and Naya squeezes her thighs around Heather, eyes fluttering shut the moment it creates friction. “Oh.”
Heather catches on, smiling against Naya’s parted mouth as she slips a hand under the elastic waistband of Naya’s cotton panties. She feels Naya’s whole body tense in anticipation, pink tongue darting out to wet lips, arms coming around in a possessive hug.
Naya’s legs part a little more and the instant Heather sinks deeper, she groans “Fuck,” lazily, mouth watering at the scent of Naya’s musk, sweet like crushed apricot, her perfume, her shampoo. Deep breath.
“Heather,” Naya grits out, coiling infinitely tighter until the sole parts of her touching the bed are the crown of her head and her tailbone. The hand on her lower back is flat and unrelenting, pressing Naya up, chest to chest, toes curling at each feverish thrust.
It makes her blood boil, the way Heather’s fingers twist against her; the way she growls ‘oh my fucking god’ in her ear, teeth scraping over sensitive lobes; the way Naya literally tumbles into ecstasy, clinging onto Heather’s shoulders desperately, aware but unable to help her nails from scratching over them.
When she comes, the only sounds are a series of short, jagged gasps and then nothing. It’s the sexiest thing Heather’s ever heard, the whine Naya chokes down as she strains; the way she turns into the pillow to wipe her temple.
“No, it’s okay, let me do that,” Heather dips her head, brushing her lips over Naya’s closed eyes, bringing the backs of her knuckles to dry her cheek.
Heather soaks in the echo of their kiss, the slip of skin on skin, drenched and swollen and delicious, the whisper of her own name on Naya’s lips as she drops back down to earth, shaking but sated.
She waits patiently for Naya to open her eyes and then there’s a glorious smile across Naya’s face and she’s blinking dopily, trying to clear her head.
“Hi.”
“It lives,” Heather giggles, laughing harder when Naya tilts and blows a soft raspberry on the side of her neck.
“I think you broke me.”
There’s a gentle quiet as Heather watches Naya fight sleep, eyelids consistently falling shut and fluttering open. “Had to wear you down somehow.”
“Mmmh.”
“Sleepy?”
“Oh yeah,” Naya grins, squeezing Heather’s waist and pressing her heels into Heather’s butt.
“My work here is done then.”
“Don’t go?”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Heather scoots down the bed so she can place her head on Naya’s shoulder, ear pressed to the beat of her racing heart, nose nuzzling the salty skin there. It feels good. It feels like a relief, this whole ‘them’ thing.
Naya’s fingers tickle under Heather’s shirt, lazy uneven circles that get smaller and smaller but send Heather into sleep as Naya quickly catches up with her.
Morning will come and the last thought Naya has before going comatose, is that for the first time in a long while, she’ll actually be rested; actually be able to face the day with an energetic smile and Heather’s fingers between her own.