Summer Heat [z/tennesse][s/a]
Summer Heat || Z Berg/Tennessee Thomas || PG || Z offers to buy Tennessee ice cream on a hot summer day but maybe she's got something up her sleeve. || warnings; femmeslash. || no beta || 940 words ||
She wipes the back of her hand over her forehead, brushing her sweaty bangs away from her eyes. The pavement is hot and uncomfortable, but indoors the air conditioning is broken and her parents aren’t even home, anyway. She’s waiting.
“Tennessee!”
Not quite what she was waiting for, but a good distraction. Tennessee stands and shades her eyes, watching the running figure draw closer, waving at her. “The ice cream truck is coming!”
Tennessee recognizes Z and smiles, beginning to walk towards her, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. Z gets closer and once she’s in sight, Tennessee can see her huge smile.
Z stands in front of Tennessee for a moment, still grinning hugely, but then she twists around and stands next to the other, wrapping an arm around her waist. Tennessee wants to pull away (it’s too fucking hot) but she doesn’t - in fact, she just leans a little closer to Z, finding comfort in her friend in the blazing heat.
“I can hear it, Tennessee,” Z says in a hushed whisper, grinning at her friend - she’s bouncing on the soles of her feet (Tennessee looks at the shoes she’s wearing - flip flops that go well with her knee-length white skirt) - too excited for something as simple as ice cream. “It’s gonna be coming down this street in like, thirty seconds!”
Tennessee just nods, not speaking up. She licks her dry, cracking lips and uncomfortably crosses her arms over her chest - Z’s arm is still around her waist, resting tightly on her hip - as they wait.
Z is right (Z is always right) because in just over a half a minute the ice cream truck is rumbling down their little side road, and now Tennessee can hear the song, almost irritating but at the same time exciting. It reminds her of being ten years old, even though now they’re sixteen and it shouldn’t bring this skipping of a heart beat.
Z lets go of Tennessee and hurries to the street where she stands, still bouncing on her toes. She reaches into her bra (Tennessee only notices because she was wondering where Z had her money tucked) and pulls out a couple of dollars before the truck reaches them, the only kids on the street (surprisingly, but it’s a good thing, Tennessee thinks). Z twists a bit and waves frantically at Tennessee who frowns and approaches her.
“What do you want?” Z asks hurriedly as the truck pulls up to the both of them. Tennessee blinks, surprised at the offer as the elderly man (who actually looks kind) leans out the truck window with a smile.
Tennessee is trying to think of something, but then Z is already blabbing to the man impatiently, “Two chocolate ice creams. Make one a double scoop!”
The man nods and continues to smile - Tennessee frowns at the fact that she didn’t get to order what she wanted (a rainbow popsicle) but she supposes it’s only fair since Z is paying.
Z hands her the ice cream cone, thrusting it into Tennessee’s open hand, and Tennessee is unable to contain her slight disappointment - it’s already melting, dripping over the edge of the sugar cone, leaving a sticky trail to her fingers.
Z just shrugs and, holding her cone more carefully, she jogs to Tennessee’s front step where she sits, beginning to lick around the edges. She even bites into the ice cream, and as Tennessee approaches, more slowly, licking the parts of her ice cream where it’s really melting, she sees that Z is already almost done with her first scoop.
“Thank you,” Tennessee says, forcing a smile - Z looks up, her lips sticky. She licks the chocolate away and then wipes her face with the back of her hand. She then grins wide at Tennessee, who smiles a little more honestly.
They both sit on Tennessee’s doorstep for a couple of moments, eating their ice cream.
Z finishes hers, taking a last crunching bite into the cone, before Tennessee is even halfway done with her single scoop. She sucks the tips of her fingers into her mouth, cleaning them off carefully, mumbling something about getting sanitary wipes but not making any motion to actually do so.
Tennessee tries to focus on her ice cream until she realizes that Z is staring at her - intently. She looks at her friend with an arched eyebrow, but the stare is making her blush. Z leans closer and gives Tennessee’s ice cream a broad lick, putting her still sticky hand over Tennessee’s to balance it better. Despite Tennesse’s obvious disapproval (voiced with ‘hey’s and ‘fuck off’s and ‘that’s mine’) Z just ignores her. Sighing, Tennessee lets her to continue to eat the remainder of her ice cream - she paid for it, after all.
Z doesn’t finish the cone, however, stopping before she finished all of the chocolate. “You like chocolate?” she asks Tennessee, licking her fingers and smirking.
“Uh…yes?”
“I thought so,” Z half-purrs, and Tennessee wishes she was smart enough to see what was coming. Z leans forward and seals their lips together, not hesitating to push her tongue into Tennessee’s mouth. Z’s mouth is still over Tennessee’s on the ice cream cone, but it’s the last thing on Tennessee’s mouth as she wonders why she’s not pulling away from her friend, kissing her on the lips, for God’s sake.
Z breaks the kiss with a huge grin. “You like chocolate a lot,” she amends.
Tennessee just stares with her mouth hanging open a little. “Uh,” she manages, and then shakes her head. There’s no fighting it. She’s stuck in a band with this girl.
She wipes the back of her hand over her forehead, brushing her sweaty bangs away from her eyes. The pavement is hot and uncomfortable, but indoors the air conditioning is broken and her parents aren’t even home, anyway. She’s waiting.
“Tennessee!”
Not quite what she was waiting for, but a good distraction. Tennessee stands and shades her eyes, watching the running figure draw closer, waving at her. “The ice cream truck is coming!”
Tennessee recognizes Z and smiles, beginning to walk towards her, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. Z gets closer and once she’s in sight, Tennessee can see her huge smile.
Z stands in front of Tennessee for a moment, still grinning hugely, but then she twists around and stands next to the other, wrapping an arm around her waist. Tennessee wants to pull away (it’s too fucking hot) but she doesn’t - in fact, she just leans a little closer to Z, finding comfort in her friend in the blazing heat.
“I can hear it, Tennessee,” Z says in a hushed whisper, grinning at her friend - she’s bouncing on the soles of her feet (Tennessee looks at the shoes she’s wearing - flip flops that go well with her knee-length white skirt) - too excited for something as simple as ice cream. “It’s gonna be coming down this street in like, thirty seconds!”
Tennessee just nods, not speaking up. She licks her dry, cracking lips and uncomfortably crosses her arms over her chest - Z’s arm is still around her waist, resting tightly on her hip - as they wait.
Z is right (Z is always right) because in just over a half a minute the ice cream truck is rumbling down their little side road, and now Tennessee can hear the song, almost irritating but at the same time exciting. It reminds her of being ten years old, even though now they’re sixteen and it shouldn’t bring this skipping of a heart beat.
Z lets go of Tennessee and hurries to the street where she stands, still bouncing on her toes. She reaches into her bra (Tennessee only notices because she was wondering where Z had her money tucked) and pulls out a couple of dollars before the truck reaches them, the only kids on the street (surprisingly, but it’s a good thing, Tennessee thinks). Z twists a bit and waves frantically at Tennessee who frowns and approaches her.
“What do you want?” Z asks hurriedly as the truck pulls up to the both of them. Tennessee blinks, surprised at the offer as the elderly man (who actually looks kind) leans out the truck window with a smile.
Tennessee is trying to think of something, but then Z is already blabbing to the man impatiently, “Two chocolate ice creams. Make one a double scoop!”
The man nods and continues to smile - Tennessee frowns at the fact that she didn’t get to order what she wanted (a rainbow popsicle) but she supposes it’s only fair since Z is paying.
Z hands her the ice cream cone, thrusting it into Tennessee’s open hand, and Tennessee is unable to contain her slight disappointment - it’s already melting, dripping over the edge of the sugar cone, leaving a sticky trail to her fingers.
Z just shrugs and, holding her cone more carefully, she jogs to Tennessee’s front step where she sits, beginning to lick around the edges. She even bites into the ice cream, and as Tennessee approaches, more slowly, licking the parts of her ice cream where it’s really melting, she sees that Z is already almost done with her first scoop.
“Thank you,” Tennessee says, forcing a smile - Z looks up, her lips sticky. She licks the chocolate away and then wipes her face with the back of her hand. She then grins wide at Tennessee, who smiles a little more honestly.
They both sit on Tennessee’s doorstep for a couple of moments, eating their ice cream.
Z finishes hers, taking a last crunching bite into the cone, before Tennessee is even halfway done with her single scoop. She sucks the tips of her fingers into her mouth, cleaning them off carefully, mumbling something about getting sanitary wipes but not making any motion to actually do so.
Tennessee tries to focus on her ice cream until she realizes that Z is staring at her - intently. She looks at her friend with an arched eyebrow, but the stare is making her blush. Z leans closer and gives Tennessee’s ice cream a broad lick, putting her still sticky hand over Tennessee’s to balance it better. Despite Tennesse’s obvious disapproval (voiced with ‘hey’s and ‘fuck off’s and ‘that’s mine’) Z just ignores her. Sighing, Tennessee lets her to continue to eat the remainder of her ice cream - she paid for it, after all.
Z doesn’t finish the cone, however, stopping before she finished all of the chocolate. “You like chocolate?” she asks Tennessee, licking her fingers and smirking.
“Uh…yes?”
“I thought so,” Z half-purrs, and Tennessee wishes she was smart enough to see what was coming. Z leans forward and seals their lips together, not hesitating to push her tongue into Tennessee’s mouth. Z’s mouth is still over Tennessee’s on the ice cream cone, but it’s the last thing on Tennessee’s mouth as she wonders why she’s not pulling away from her friend, kissing her on the lips, for God’s sake.
Z breaks the kiss with a huge grin. “You like chocolate a lot,” she amends.
Tennessee just stares with her mouth hanging open a little. “Uh,” she manages, and then shakes her head. There’s no fighting it. She’s stuck in a band with this girl.