The author reveals finally went up at
numb3rs_newyear, so I'm re-posting my fic here for posterity. :-)
Title: Sweet Tooth
Pairing: Megan/Terry
Rating: NC-17
Summary: She hung up, staring at her office wall, intent on nothing but the tone of Megan's voice when she had said dessert.
Word Count: 1040
Warnings: None.
Prompt:
melissima's
prompt at
numb3rs_newyear. Originally posted
here.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
"Hey, I won't be able to do dinner tonight, I'm sorry." Terry tapped a pen against her desk, feeling guilty.
"Oh?" Megan's voice was tinny over the line. "That's alright."
"There's this going away dinner for my co-worker, Carol, I completely forgot about it when we made plans--"
"Don't worry about it," Megan insisted. Her voice went low. "You can come over for dessert after."
Terry bit her lip, gripping her pen tight. "Yes. That sounds good."
"Have fun at your dinner! I'll see you later."
"See you." She hung up, staring at her office wall, intent on nothing but the tone of Megan's voice when she had said dessert.
Dinner was boring. Carol was a nice woman, but she and Terry had never been close, and if Terry was being entirely honest, she was indifferent about her departure. None of Terry's co-workers had backgrounds like hers; they were mostly idealistic psych grads who believed in non-violence and couldn't shoot a gun or tackle someone if she paid them. She always felt slightly detached from the group, like she didn't fit in.
She was probably the only one psychoanalyzing herself during dinner out at a fancy restaurant.
She tried to focus on the conversation, feign a genuine-looking smile and laugh at Tom's dumb jokes, but in the back of her mind she pictured Megan's legs, and it made her tap her fingers against her own, impatient.
Parking was scarce so they'd carpooled to the restaurant, but Megan's place wasn't far. She split off from the group after dinner and set out on foot, hands tucked tight in her jacket pockets to ward off the chilly night air.
She'd almost reached the halfway point when she felt plump raindrops start to fall, soaking through her hair and running down her face. Terry swore under her breath. She wiped the rain out of her eyes, realized in the next moment that she'd applied mascara that morning and it was now probably smudged, and swore again.
She jogged the rest of the way.
She let herself in, slipping off her wet shoes to leave by the door, thankful for the sudden rush of dry warmth inside the house. "Hey," she called out, following the sound of running water to find Megan in the kitchen, standing at the sink.
"Hey yourself." Megan glanced back at her with a smile, but it quickly fell in dismay when she saw Terry's dripping wet clothes and chattering teeth.
"Oh my god!" she said. She dried her hands and met Terry in the doorway. "What happened? Did your car break down?" She led Terry to the bathroom, listening to her explanation of the carpool, and the restaurant's proximity, and how it had really seemed like a nice night out at first, and she laughed at Terry's mascaraed raccoon eyes. She selected a towel from the neat stack in her linen closet and turned to her, draping it over Terry's hair. "Here," she said, wrapping the thick cotton tight around her shoulders, and she smiled at her for a moment before leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. Terry closed her eyes against the bright bathroom lights, kissing her back and feeling her mind go calm as her shivering eased.
Megan pulled back, smoothing her thumbs gently over Terry's eyebrows and under her eyes, brushing over her cheeks before she dropped her hands and turned away to start the shower.
The water pounded hot on her skin, flushing it pink and warming her through. She breathed deeply, inhaling the familiar scents of Megan in the rich lather of her shampoo and the fresh scent of her laundry detergent on the clean set of clothes she'd left for Terry to change into. She slipped into the pair of soft yoga pants and simple t-shirt, feeling comfortable but slightly self-conscious in the unfamiliar clothing.
In the kitchen Megan was standing at the stove, and she looked over when Terry came in, smiling when she saw the too-long pants covering Terry's feet. Terry smiled back, a little sheepishly, plucking at the fabric and trying not to trip.
"You ready for dessert?" Megan asked. Terry tilted her head in surprise, taking in the pot on the stove and the plate of poached pears on the counter. She took a step closer, peering into the pot and spotting melted chocolate.
"I didn't realize you meant it literally," she said, amused.
Megan met her eyes with a sly smile. "I meant it both ways."
The warm chocolate dripped beautifully onto Megan's breasts, dark against her peach-pale skin. It was sweet on Terry's tongue, made complex combined with the taste of Megan's skin, the faded boozy scent of her perfume, and the breathy sound of her surprised laugh when Terry's mouth closed over her breast. She savored it, licking up every drop as she raised her eyes to meet Megan's gaze.
Megan still wore her makeup from the day, her eyes perfectly lined and her eyeshadow shimmering where the light caught it. It made Terry self-conscious, thinking of her own bare face. She felt boyish and small, settled easily astride Megan's hips, until--
"You're so beautiful," Megan murmured, stretching out her hand to draw a lazy path across Terry's collarbone and down the dip between her breasts, coming to rest on her belly for a moment before diving between Terry's legs to rub her clit. Her fingers teased at Terry's cunt, making her breath catch tight in her chest, making her hips rock unconsciously, making her whimper, suddenly, needing it.
Megan withdrew her hand so that she could nudge Terry onto her back. She hovered over her, the tips of her hair brushing Terry's shoulders, the sides of her face, falling in layers to enclose them together in a private hideaway. As Megan leaned in to kiss her, Terry felt her hand trailing down her side, smoothing over her hip and settling between her legs, and as their lips met she felt Megan's fingers slide inside her, slick and easy and perfect. She rocked her hips up, and smiled against her mouth, and felt finally at home as she closed her eyes.