nyx; cake
TITLE: Cake
CHARACTERS: Laura Kinney/Kiden Nixon.
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: 4,820
SUMMARY: Laura knows she could make Kiden happy. She's made people happy before.
NOTES: and nothing more | cake | what may come
*
Kiden brings chocolate cake home one night, hood pulled over her head, and lets the cold winter air in with her. It's a single slice in one of those clear plastic boxes that open like oyster shells, sealed by a sticker with the price stamped on.
She places it on the table in front of Laura, tears it open, and sticks a fork into the cake. Laura watches as she sits, notes the way places her elbows against the table top and rests her head against one hand.
“Well?” Kiden says eventually, after Laura has been staring at her for ten seconds too long. “Don't you want it?”
Laura tilts her head. Strange how she never assumed it was all for her, even after Kiden set it down in front of her. She's used to that, thought, used to seeing and never getting-all her life, every thing's been within her reach, but she's never been allowed to touch. Kiden gestures towards the cake with her free hand, and Laura touches the end of the fork with the tips of her first two fingers.
“Thank you,” she says, and Kiden smiles. She does not know why: after all, she is the one about to eat cake, not Kiden. After two months of sharing an apartment, a room, a bed, Kiden Nixon is still an oddity to her, what with her bizarre little acts of what Laura thinks should be kindness, but can't help but feel as if there's something more to it.
It does not matter, though. She wraps her hand around the fork, turns it on its side and breaks off the edge of the cake. The sponge is still warm when she puts it in her mouth and presses her tongue against the icing in the middle; Kiden watches, Laura eats, and she is happy.
Kiden speaks as she makes her way through the slice. Something about running into an old friend from school-Kiden speaks quickly, using her hands to regurgitate points, and laughs in odd places. Laura observes her while she eats, keeping her eyes on Kiden's, moving the fork slower still so as not to drop any crumbs.
“Do you miss her?” Laura asks quite suddenly, and the metal of the fork clinks against her front teeth.
Kiden shrugs, bites the inside of her mouth while her eyes dart around as if looking for an answer, and then brushes her hair back one, two, three times with spread-out fingers. Laura knows the routine well enough: it is the same face Kiden made the time when Laura asked why she did not try to track down her mother, the same rigid body-language that rolled over her when it was her father's birthday, and the anniversary of a few other things.
“I guess so,” Kiden finally says, as if she hasn't put much thought into it. “But people grow apart, you know?”
Laura shakes her head. She does not believe her, does not think Kiden is happy. Kiden does all these little things that Laura cannot count or calculate; Kiden brings her cake home on bitter November nights and does not ask to share; she makes her breakfast in the mornings when Laura does not even know what she's hungry for; she places her hands, steady and warm, around her own when there is blood on her arms, when she cannot forget.
In return, Laura gives her nothing. She has been speaking up, of late, giving voice to her thoughts, but it does not amount to anything; she finds no reason in herself or her surroundings for Kiden to be happy.
She thinks along with the flavour of the sponge, swallows down her mouthful, and is about to speak, when Kiden once again beats her to it.
“Did you like it?” Kiden asks. She's got her arms folded, lined up along the edge of the table, and she leans forward, just a little. “And don't say 'thank you' again. Really, Laura.”
“Yes,” Laura says with a slight nod, closing her eyes.
There are crumbs in the creases of the packaging, and she does not want to waste anything Kiden has given her. She presses the pad of her finger against the loose bits of cake, and once she has picked up all she can, brushes her finger against her lips and eats what remains.
When she looks up, Kiden is frowning. She's not angry, Laura has always been able to tell that much-more so a little amused, and doing her best to hide it.
“Come here,” Kiden says, not losing her frown, as she leans across the table, “You've got cake around your mouth.”
She wraps her fingers around Laura's jaw and presses her thumb against the corner of her mouth, and Laura does not even flinch. Wiping the crumbs away, Kiden brushes her thumb against Laura's lower lip, and then presses it against her tongue.
Laura finishes the last of the cake. She wants to thank Kiden, so much so that there's a tenseness in her shoulders that was not there before, and her mind feels wiped blank. Kiden smiles, Kiden keeps on smiling, and Laura does not understand why.
“I am happy,” Laura says, and then looks down at the empty cake box. She folds it close, thought it has lost much of its shape, and tries to piece the label back together.
Kiden laughs, lightly, and she is not happy.
*
Laura stays awake late into the night.
Kiden, in her oversized nightshirt, with the covers hunched up between her knees and stomach, sleeps on her side, with her back to her. She does not shift much in her sleep, like some nights, but seems quite content to rest with the side of her face burrowed into her pillow, left hand raised and placed by her nose.
Reaching out, Laura raises a hand, and gently touches Kiden's shoulder. A month ago, and she would not have dared shift in the bed for fear of Kiden stirring; two months ago and she would not have allowed herself to sleep near her, to sleep near anyone. Three months ago, she realises, she did not know Kiden. Three months ago she was-
Laura shakes her head, throws out the thought before it's formed, and runs her hand up from Kiden's shoulder to her neck. Kiden mutters something that might be a swear word in her sleep, makes an effortless attempt to bat Laura's hand away, and then resigns herself back to whatever dream she is caught in.
Laura knows she could make Kiden happy. She's made people happy before.
It will not be that difficult; she will do what is needed of her and be done with it, so long as Kiden finds her useful. She doubts Kiden will object, either; Kiden likes to kiss her, likes to spread her hands out across her back, to wrap her arms around her neck, to press herself up against Laura, and pull her down on top of her.
If people were eager to pay, then surely giving it away freely, willingly, would make Kiden happy.
“Kiden,” Laura says, shaking her by her arm, “Kiden.”
Awaking with a groan, Kiden rolls over and looks up at Laura as if someone is shining a bright light in her eyes. She rubs them, one by one, yawning all the while, and then sits up, stretching as she does so.
“You okay?” she asks, looking at Laura out of one eye and making swirling motions on her right temple with three fingers.
Tired, but not angry, Kiden looks a little confused-it isn't like Laura to wake her up in the middle of the night. Most mornings she would sit awake in bed as dawn broke, patiently waiting for Kiden to wake. With a yawn, Kiden wraps an arm around Laura's shoulders and pulls her closer to her.
Still for a moment, and suddenly not sure how to move, Laura takes pause to reassess the situation. She has Kiden awake now, already in the bed, and mostly undressed. Tilting her chin up, Laura presses her lips against the line of Kiden's jaw, shifting her body so that she is no longer laying, but rather on the same level as Kiden.
And Kiden too turns to kiss her, leans down and catches Laura's lips against her own. Kiden's hands on her nightshirt, not even an inch above the hem of the waist; the familiarity of it all relaxes her, moves her without the need to over-analyses every moment.
Even with her eyes closed, Kiden accommodates her: Laura shifts, and she feels Kiden's hands fall to her waist, moving with the motion of her body. Straddling her, Laura feels Kiden's hips move beneath her own, as she tries to better position herself, tries to find the right angle to let Laura kiss her harder.
She closes her eyes as she works her way into the kiss, hands moving across the bedsheets, up until she finds Kiden's arms. Taking her wrists she holds them against the headboard, and Kiden offers no resistance, just arches her back so slightly that she most likely doesn't even realise she's done it.
Laura shifts with the motion, driven on by the way she can feel Kiden's breath against her lips, and brings her mouth to her throat. This time Kiden knows that she's moving beneath her, and Laura hears the short, sharp little noises she makes, even as she bites down on her lower lip. Laura runs her tongue hard against Kiden's neck, and Kiden jerks her arms, wants to take hold of Laura, to dig her nails in to her shoulders, but Laura does not loosen her grip until she is ready to move.
She has her lips against Kiden's stomach, teeth grazing her skin ever so slightly as moves her mouth down, towards the arch of her hips, when Kiden grabs Laura by her shoulders and pushes her back. Laura doesn't not attempt to defy her; she looks up at Kiden, eyes-wide, mouth slightly parted, and waits for her to speak.
“Laura,” she says eventually, and brings up a hand to the side of her face, “I-what are you doing?”
The muscles in her stomach are still pulled taut.
Laura places one hand flat on Kiden's stomach and feels her shudder beneath her finger tips. “I wish to make you happy,” she says, and then asks quite flatly, “Will this not make you happy?”
Kiden keeps eye contact for a second longer before quickly turning away.
“I-yeah, Laura, but...” she says, losing track of her own reasoning. She takes a deep breath, looks back at Laura, and then smiles a little. It's not the the type of smile Laura's used to, but it's soft; uncertain but not afraid.
Kiden tangles her fingers in Laura's hair, and slowly pushes her head back down.
Laura, on her knees between Kiden's legs, hooks her fingers around the edge of her underwear as she leans down and pushes her tongue down in the dip of her hip. Kiden jerks her hips upwards, but Laura is not thrown off-course; she has dealt with this before, though the noises Kiden make as she pulls her underwear down stir something inside of her.
It is unusual. Distracting. Laura takes a deep breath, and tries to rid herself of the feeling. She looks up at Kiden, sees her head titled back, neck exposed and realises that she wants to touch her, to do this. That it is not purely for Kiden.
Laura digs her nails into Kiden's hips as she steadies herself. She needs to be stronger than this, to focus, to be able to rid herself of this distraction-unless she is selfless, it will not be enough for Kiden, she knows. If she, too, enjoys this, she will be taking away from Kiden's happiness.
But her mind will not clear, and she is not willing to delay any longer. Laura presses her mouth against Kiden, and then Kiden is really moving beneath her, pulling at Laura's hair as she tightens her grip, arching her hips and pushing herself against Laura's tongue.
She hears Kiden moan and the sound cuts through her, and Laura does not understand why hearing her name on Kiden's lips drives her to move faster, harder. Holding Kiden down still against the mattress, Laura feels her hands shift: one finds its way to the back of her neck, and the other twists in the bedsheets.
The longer it goes on, the more into it Laura becomes, the more she stops doing what she thinks should technically be good, what she has been taught, and works along with Kiden's body. Kiden digs her nails into her neck, raises her knees up and locks them around Laura's shoulders. Her whole body seems to tense, and then she moans louder than before, saying Laura, Laura, Laura, over and over again until she almost sounds breathless.
Kiden's body falls slack beneath her, and Laura knows her work is done. She sits up, and stays on her knees at the edge of the bed as Kiden catches her breath. She watches her; Kiden's eyes are glazed over, and a small smiles plays over her face, as if she's about to fall asleep. She looks-
-that is irrelevant. She is happy enough, for now.
“Hey,” Kiden says, reaching out with one hand.
Laura takes her hand, and before she has a chance to move, Kiden has pulled her back to the head of the bed. She lets Kiden push her down against the mattress, though she does not understand what she hopes to achieve. Smiling above her, Kiden brushes her hair back behind her ears before leaning down.
She is still breathing heavily as she kisses the corner of Laura's mouth. Laura lays still, does not wrap her arms around Kiden, does not expect anything from her. Even when Kiden moves so that she is laying on top of her, Laura does not understand; has she not done enough for Kiden already? She does not know how this will make her happy, but she allows herself to be weak, allows herself to deepen the kiss between them.
She does not find herself feeling restricted with Kiden pressing down atop her. Whatever the sensation was that ran through her when Kiden moved against her and made those little noises, distracting but not unpleasant, comes back, and spreads through her, warm, resting in the pit of her stomach. And she does want Kiden to kiss her more, she realises, no matter awkward and alien the thought is to her.
Kiden breaks the kiss, and Laura is not sure whether it would be considered rude or not to object. Instead she looks up at Kiden, whose eyes are darting across her face, a little unsure of herself. Laura is about to ask her what is troubling her, when she feels Kiden's hand press flat against the inside of her thigh. It is difficult to breathe; Kiden moves her hand up, and without putting thought into it, Laura spreads her legs a little.
She looks into Kiden's eyes as long as she can bear, before turning her head to the side as she feels Kiden press two fingers against her. Laura lets out a heavy breath through grit teeth as Kiden pushes her fingers inside of her, moving in and out once, slowly.
Laura feels as if something is caught in the back of her throat, and when she tries to clear it she only succeeds in letting out a low, gasping sound. Kiden moves her fingers again, only with a little more force this time. Laura has her arms placed rigidly by her sides, but it does not feel right; her fingers twitch, but she does not know what to do with them.
“Kiden...” she says as Kiden moves inside of her for a third time, and stares at her, eyes wide.
At the sound of her own name, Kiden stops what she's doing and reaches up with her free hand to Laura's face. Strange. Laura had not even realised she was sweating until now. Kiden smiles and strokes the lose strands of hair out of her face before brushing across her cheek with the pad of her thumb and kissing Laura on the forehead.
“Is it-uh, am I okay?” Kiden asks, still kissing her way erratically around Laura's face. She begins to pull her fingers out, but Laura rocks her hips, in objection. “Alright. Do you want me to carry on?”
“Please,” Laura says, and feels Kiden nod against her shoulder.
Before she starts moving again, though, she takes a hold of Laura's wrist and pulls her arm up from its place on the bed, and positions it on her back.
“Here,” Kiden says, and reaches across to do the same with the other arm, “Should be more comfortable...”
Kiden starts working her fingers again, and Laura finds she likes the closeness. Likes the way Kiden has her cheek placed against hers as she pushes inside her, harder now, so that Laura can feel her breathing heavily into her ear. She murmurs something, and when Laura says her name for a second time, different this time, somehow, she even moans a little.
Laura holds her tight around her back, tries to move her body to the rhythm Kiden sets, even thought the weight of Kiden's offers resistance, keeps her held down.
She tries not to be so rigid-Kiden wasn't. Kiden relaxed, wrapped her arms and legs and self all around her. Her fingers twitch, and then she flexes them one by one, finding purchase on Kiden's back, between her shoulder blades.
And that is enough-Kiden drives her fingers faster, harder, and Laura finds she cannot breathe fast enough, cannot stop what she's feeling, or block it out. The feeling rises up, leaves her throat as dry sounds, half-words, that are foreign in her mouth; before she can comprehend what has happened, Kiden is propped up on her elbows, fingers brushing against Laura's mouth, the other hand stroking her hair.
Laura looks up at her, vision strained, and not because of the dark. She needs to regulate her breathing, to clear her mind. Kiden smiles, and she is worse off for it. Laura closes her eyes and mouth, lips rested around the tips of Kiden's fingers. She wants to say something, but knows she cannot be trusted to talk in this state-and so she lays there, Kiden shifting so that she's laying with her head against the curve of her neck.
Kiden is happy. She is happy.
Laura is not certain whether things should equal out thus.
*
Kiden stretches as she sits up, naked, back towards her. Laura watches as the muscles in her back move; the ways in which Kiden stretches her arms are of no benefit to her, physically. She considers telling her this, but doesn't; instead, she reaches out with one hand, and presses her palm flat against Kiden's back, slowly sliding it upwards until she reaches her shoulder.
Titling her head against Laura's hand, Kiden makes a short-affectionate, Laura supposes-noise, before suddenly turning towards her, finger pointed right at her forehead.
“Dammit Laura,” she says, unwavering, “You're the one with a healing factor here, not me!”
With that she is up and off the bed, pulling a shirt over her head. Laura does not understand. She recalculates in her head. Kiden should be happy-nothing went wrong last night, yesterday during the day, or the night before that. They had been fine, pressed together, under and above the bedsheets. She replays it, and cannot work out what mistake she has made.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks, pulling the bed covers up to her collar-bone.
“Huh?”
“You are not happy,” Laura states.
Stopping half-way through getting dressed, Kiden sighs and sits on the edge of the bed.
“Is that why you were doing this? To make me happy?” Kiden looks a little unsettled, but that does not stop her from reaching out and taking on of Laura's hand from the edge of the duvet and holding it between her own.
Laura nods.
“I mean, Laura, the sex is great, seriously. Seriously. But we don't have to do that all day, every day, y'know?”
Laura shakes her head.
“So, you're only happy with me when we're in bed?” Kiden asks.
“I am happy when I am with you for many reasons.”
And she is. Laura doesn't understand why Kiden looks at her at her as if she wasn't aware of that, as if she's a little unsure of what Laura actually means. Laura straightens where she sits, but offers nothing in the way of explanation; simply glances down at their entwined hands without so much as a nod.
Not ready to smile yet, Kiden squeezes her hand and asks, “Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Hm,” Laura says. It's an awkward noise, like she's trying to push her thoughts to the surface, but being called on it makes her head feel heavy, and nothing specific will come to mind. It is not because Kiden buys her things, or because she makes her breakfast in the morning; it is not even because Kiden speaks to her when no one else would, during the times when Laura has no reply, nothing worth saying, and yet Kiden is treating her like a person, like she's no different than anyone else.
It's not simply these things, and more, put together. Laura doesn't know what it is, or how to say it; Kiden, she thinks, would probably say something with a grin, and leave Laura wondering how she ever managed to make her feel like that. She bows her head further, so that her hair falls down from behind her ears, covering her face.
“Because it is you,” Laura says, hand tightening around Kiden's, and waits for her to laugh at her. She has not managed to word it very well.
And yet Kiden is silent. Laura feels her fingers against the side of her head, pushing her hair back so she can see her face. Kiden grins out the side of her mouth, leant over so that she's looking up at Laura.
“See?” Kiden eventually says, still looking at her as if she's actually said something of substance. They were just words, Laura thinks-jumbled words she couldn't even get out in the right order. She has so much more see needs to say, and Kiden understanding this, being patient with her, only adds to that list.
“Mm.”
“So, come on,” Kiden says, back on her feet already. She dresses quickly, hopping around the room with one leg in her pants as she searches for socks, and throws Laura her shirt in the process.
Kiden leaves the room before her, waving loosely over her shoulder, leaving Laura to think. Perhaps she should do something else for Kiden, but she does not know what. She thinks, comes up with nothing, and it annoys her. Had Kiden not shouted at her from the other room, Laura would've spent far longer sat there, staring at the wall.
Kiden's slouched against the sofa when she makes her way into the living room, smashing her thumb against the TV remote as she brings her arm above her shoulder and thrusts it downwards so that the remote's pointed directly at the screen, over and over again. Laura folds her arms and watches her, perplexed, for a moment.
“Out of batteries,” Kiden says, and then smiles painfully widely at Laura, “Switch it to DVD for me?”
Laura nods, and steps across the room. She's watched TV with her enough times with Kiden to have this down to an art; she hits the button on the side of the TV, and the static screen splutters, struggling to turn black. The TV makes a whining noise, before relenting, and whatever movie it is Kiden's decided to indulge in this time begins to play.
She sits down against the sofa arm, out of the way of the screen. She expects that Kiden think she's going to surprise her, but doesn't say anything. Counting backwards from five, she reaches one, and then as if on cue, Kiden's arms shoots around her stomach and pull her down on top of her.
Kiden doesn't say or do anything more, just lays there with Laura on top of her. She keeps her eyes fixed on the screen, laughs in all the right places, and Laura is not sure what she adds to the experience.
“Is this all?” Laura asks, but does not mean to speak over the movie.
“Huh?” Kiden's attention is split between Laura and the TV.
“This is all you want?” Laura asks, and then finds herself able to clarify, for once, “To sit here, to watch television; I am not doing anything for you.”
Apparently haven forgotten that the batteries were out, Kiden reaches over and waves the remote at the TV, trying to pause it. She swears under her breath when she realises what she's done, and then throws the controller against the carpet.
“Laura, if you weren't here I'd be missing you too much, lose interest in the film and go and find you. Then I'd probably drag you in here to watch the movie with me, so yeah,” Kiden explains, “This is all I want.”
“Oh.”
She feels Kiden's arms tighten around her, and then she shakes with laughter, only managing to silence herself by pressing her mouth against the back of Laura's head.
“Laura, don't be stupid,” she says, kissing her through another laugh, “'course I'm happy with you. 'course I love you.”
Laura expects her body to tense, for her mind to ache at the words, but rather, she realises she is smiling. Turning to face Kiden, she nods her head and kisses her cheek; not to make her happy, but because she wants to.
“Thank you,” she says, and that is enough.
CHARACTERS: Laura Kinney/Kiden Nixon.
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: 4,820
SUMMARY: Laura knows she could make Kiden happy. She's made people happy before.
NOTES: and nothing more | cake | what may come
*
Kiden brings chocolate cake home one night, hood pulled over her head, and lets the cold winter air in with her. It's a single slice in one of those clear plastic boxes that open like oyster shells, sealed by a sticker with the price stamped on.
She places it on the table in front of Laura, tears it open, and sticks a fork into the cake. Laura watches as she sits, notes the way places her elbows against the table top and rests her head against one hand.
“Well?” Kiden says eventually, after Laura has been staring at her for ten seconds too long. “Don't you want it?”
Laura tilts her head. Strange how she never assumed it was all for her, even after Kiden set it down in front of her. She's used to that, thought, used to seeing and never getting-all her life, every thing's been within her reach, but she's never been allowed to touch. Kiden gestures towards the cake with her free hand, and Laura touches the end of the fork with the tips of her first two fingers.
“Thank you,” she says, and Kiden smiles. She does not know why: after all, she is the one about to eat cake, not Kiden. After two months of sharing an apartment, a room, a bed, Kiden Nixon is still an oddity to her, what with her bizarre little acts of what Laura thinks should be kindness, but can't help but feel as if there's something more to it.
It does not matter, though. She wraps her hand around the fork, turns it on its side and breaks off the edge of the cake. The sponge is still warm when she puts it in her mouth and presses her tongue against the icing in the middle; Kiden watches, Laura eats, and she is happy.
Kiden speaks as she makes her way through the slice. Something about running into an old friend from school-Kiden speaks quickly, using her hands to regurgitate points, and laughs in odd places. Laura observes her while she eats, keeping her eyes on Kiden's, moving the fork slower still so as not to drop any crumbs.
“Do you miss her?” Laura asks quite suddenly, and the metal of the fork clinks against her front teeth.
Kiden shrugs, bites the inside of her mouth while her eyes dart around as if looking for an answer, and then brushes her hair back one, two, three times with spread-out fingers. Laura knows the routine well enough: it is the same face Kiden made the time when Laura asked why she did not try to track down her mother, the same rigid body-language that rolled over her when it was her father's birthday, and the anniversary of a few other things.
“I guess so,” Kiden finally says, as if she hasn't put much thought into it. “But people grow apart, you know?”
Laura shakes her head. She does not believe her, does not think Kiden is happy. Kiden does all these little things that Laura cannot count or calculate; Kiden brings her cake home on bitter November nights and does not ask to share; she makes her breakfast in the mornings when Laura does not even know what she's hungry for; she places her hands, steady and warm, around her own when there is blood on her arms, when she cannot forget.
In return, Laura gives her nothing. She has been speaking up, of late, giving voice to her thoughts, but it does not amount to anything; she finds no reason in herself or her surroundings for Kiden to be happy.
She thinks along with the flavour of the sponge, swallows down her mouthful, and is about to speak, when Kiden once again beats her to it.
“Did you like it?” Kiden asks. She's got her arms folded, lined up along the edge of the table, and she leans forward, just a little. “And don't say 'thank you' again. Really, Laura.”
“Yes,” Laura says with a slight nod, closing her eyes.
There are crumbs in the creases of the packaging, and she does not want to waste anything Kiden has given her. She presses the pad of her finger against the loose bits of cake, and once she has picked up all she can, brushes her finger against her lips and eats what remains.
When she looks up, Kiden is frowning. She's not angry, Laura has always been able to tell that much-more so a little amused, and doing her best to hide it.
“Come here,” Kiden says, not losing her frown, as she leans across the table, “You've got cake around your mouth.”
She wraps her fingers around Laura's jaw and presses her thumb against the corner of her mouth, and Laura does not even flinch. Wiping the crumbs away, Kiden brushes her thumb against Laura's lower lip, and then presses it against her tongue.
Laura finishes the last of the cake. She wants to thank Kiden, so much so that there's a tenseness in her shoulders that was not there before, and her mind feels wiped blank. Kiden smiles, Kiden keeps on smiling, and Laura does not understand why.
“I am happy,” Laura says, and then looks down at the empty cake box. She folds it close, thought it has lost much of its shape, and tries to piece the label back together.
Kiden laughs, lightly, and she is not happy.
*
Laura stays awake late into the night.
Kiden, in her oversized nightshirt, with the covers hunched up between her knees and stomach, sleeps on her side, with her back to her. She does not shift much in her sleep, like some nights, but seems quite content to rest with the side of her face burrowed into her pillow, left hand raised and placed by her nose.
Reaching out, Laura raises a hand, and gently touches Kiden's shoulder. A month ago, and she would not have dared shift in the bed for fear of Kiden stirring; two months ago and she would not have allowed herself to sleep near her, to sleep near anyone. Three months ago, she realises, she did not know Kiden. Three months ago she was-
Laura shakes her head, throws out the thought before it's formed, and runs her hand up from Kiden's shoulder to her neck. Kiden mutters something that might be a swear word in her sleep, makes an effortless attempt to bat Laura's hand away, and then resigns herself back to whatever dream she is caught in.
Laura knows she could make Kiden happy. She's made people happy before.
It will not be that difficult; she will do what is needed of her and be done with it, so long as Kiden finds her useful. She doubts Kiden will object, either; Kiden likes to kiss her, likes to spread her hands out across her back, to wrap her arms around her neck, to press herself up against Laura, and pull her down on top of her.
If people were eager to pay, then surely giving it away freely, willingly, would make Kiden happy.
“Kiden,” Laura says, shaking her by her arm, “Kiden.”
Awaking with a groan, Kiden rolls over and looks up at Laura as if someone is shining a bright light in her eyes. She rubs them, one by one, yawning all the while, and then sits up, stretching as she does so.
“You okay?” she asks, looking at Laura out of one eye and making swirling motions on her right temple with three fingers.
Tired, but not angry, Kiden looks a little confused-it isn't like Laura to wake her up in the middle of the night. Most mornings she would sit awake in bed as dawn broke, patiently waiting for Kiden to wake. With a yawn, Kiden wraps an arm around Laura's shoulders and pulls her closer to her.
Still for a moment, and suddenly not sure how to move, Laura takes pause to reassess the situation. She has Kiden awake now, already in the bed, and mostly undressed. Tilting her chin up, Laura presses her lips against the line of Kiden's jaw, shifting her body so that she is no longer laying, but rather on the same level as Kiden.
And Kiden too turns to kiss her, leans down and catches Laura's lips against her own. Kiden's hands on her nightshirt, not even an inch above the hem of the waist; the familiarity of it all relaxes her, moves her without the need to over-analyses every moment.
Even with her eyes closed, Kiden accommodates her: Laura shifts, and she feels Kiden's hands fall to her waist, moving with the motion of her body. Straddling her, Laura feels Kiden's hips move beneath her own, as she tries to better position herself, tries to find the right angle to let Laura kiss her harder.
She closes her eyes as she works her way into the kiss, hands moving across the bedsheets, up until she finds Kiden's arms. Taking her wrists she holds them against the headboard, and Kiden offers no resistance, just arches her back so slightly that she most likely doesn't even realise she's done it.
Laura shifts with the motion, driven on by the way she can feel Kiden's breath against her lips, and brings her mouth to her throat. This time Kiden knows that she's moving beneath her, and Laura hears the short, sharp little noises she makes, even as she bites down on her lower lip. Laura runs her tongue hard against Kiden's neck, and Kiden jerks her arms, wants to take hold of Laura, to dig her nails in to her shoulders, but Laura does not loosen her grip until she is ready to move.
She has her lips against Kiden's stomach, teeth grazing her skin ever so slightly as moves her mouth down, towards the arch of her hips, when Kiden grabs Laura by her shoulders and pushes her back. Laura doesn't not attempt to defy her; she looks up at Kiden, eyes-wide, mouth slightly parted, and waits for her to speak.
“Laura,” she says eventually, and brings up a hand to the side of her face, “I-what are you doing?”
The muscles in her stomach are still pulled taut.
Laura places one hand flat on Kiden's stomach and feels her shudder beneath her finger tips. “I wish to make you happy,” she says, and then asks quite flatly, “Will this not make you happy?”
Kiden keeps eye contact for a second longer before quickly turning away.
“I-yeah, Laura, but...” she says, losing track of her own reasoning. She takes a deep breath, looks back at Laura, and then smiles a little. It's not the the type of smile Laura's used to, but it's soft; uncertain but not afraid.
Kiden tangles her fingers in Laura's hair, and slowly pushes her head back down.
Laura, on her knees between Kiden's legs, hooks her fingers around the edge of her underwear as she leans down and pushes her tongue down in the dip of her hip. Kiden jerks her hips upwards, but Laura is not thrown off-course; she has dealt with this before, though the noises Kiden make as she pulls her underwear down stir something inside of her.
It is unusual. Distracting. Laura takes a deep breath, and tries to rid herself of the feeling. She looks up at Kiden, sees her head titled back, neck exposed and realises that she wants to touch her, to do this. That it is not purely for Kiden.
Laura digs her nails into Kiden's hips as she steadies herself. She needs to be stronger than this, to focus, to be able to rid herself of this distraction-unless she is selfless, it will not be enough for Kiden, she knows. If she, too, enjoys this, she will be taking away from Kiden's happiness.
But her mind will not clear, and she is not willing to delay any longer. Laura presses her mouth against Kiden, and then Kiden is really moving beneath her, pulling at Laura's hair as she tightens her grip, arching her hips and pushing herself against Laura's tongue.
She hears Kiden moan and the sound cuts through her, and Laura does not understand why hearing her name on Kiden's lips drives her to move faster, harder. Holding Kiden down still against the mattress, Laura feels her hands shift: one finds its way to the back of her neck, and the other twists in the bedsheets.
The longer it goes on, the more into it Laura becomes, the more she stops doing what she thinks should technically be good, what she has been taught, and works along with Kiden's body. Kiden digs her nails into her neck, raises her knees up and locks them around Laura's shoulders. Her whole body seems to tense, and then she moans louder than before, saying Laura, Laura, Laura, over and over again until she almost sounds breathless.
Kiden's body falls slack beneath her, and Laura knows her work is done. She sits up, and stays on her knees at the edge of the bed as Kiden catches her breath. She watches her; Kiden's eyes are glazed over, and a small smiles plays over her face, as if she's about to fall asleep. She looks-
-that is irrelevant. She is happy enough, for now.
“Hey,” Kiden says, reaching out with one hand.
Laura takes her hand, and before she has a chance to move, Kiden has pulled her back to the head of the bed. She lets Kiden push her down against the mattress, though she does not understand what she hopes to achieve. Smiling above her, Kiden brushes her hair back behind her ears before leaning down.
She is still breathing heavily as she kisses the corner of Laura's mouth. Laura lays still, does not wrap her arms around Kiden, does not expect anything from her. Even when Kiden moves so that she is laying on top of her, Laura does not understand; has she not done enough for Kiden already? She does not know how this will make her happy, but she allows herself to be weak, allows herself to deepen the kiss between them.
She does not find herself feeling restricted with Kiden pressing down atop her. Whatever the sensation was that ran through her when Kiden moved against her and made those little noises, distracting but not unpleasant, comes back, and spreads through her, warm, resting in the pit of her stomach. And she does want Kiden to kiss her more, she realises, no matter awkward and alien the thought is to her.
Kiden breaks the kiss, and Laura is not sure whether it would be considered rude or not to object. Instead she looks up at Kiden, whose eyes are darting across her face, a little unsure of herself. Laura is about to ask her what is troubling her, when she feels Kiden's hand press flat against the inside of her thigh. It is difficult to breathe; Kiden moves her hand up, and without putting thought into it, Laura spreads her legs a little.
She looks into Kiden's eyes as long as she can bear, before turning her head to the side as she feels Kiden press two fingers against her. Laura lets out a heavy breath through grit teeth as Kiden pushes her fingers inside of her, moving in and out once, slowly.
Laura feels as if something is caught in the back of her throat, and when she tries to clear it she only succeeds in letting out a low, gasping sound. Kiden moves her fingers again, only with a little more force this time. Laura has her arms placed rigidly by her sides, but it does not feel right; her fingers twitch, but she does not know what to do with them.
“Kiden...” she says as Kiden moves inside of her for a third time, and stares at her, eyes wide.
At the sound of her own name, Kiden stops what she's doing and reaches up with her free hand to Laura's face. Strange. Laura had not even realised she was sweating until now. Kiden smiles and strokes the lose strands of hair out of her face before brushing across her cheek with the pad of her thumb and kissing Laura on the forehead.
“Is it-uh, am I okay?” Kiden asks, still kissing her way erratically around Laura's face. She begins to pull her fingers out, but Laura rocks her hips, in objection. “Alright. Do you want me to carry on?”
“Please,” Laura says, and feels Kiden nod against her shoulder.
Before she starts moving again, though, she takes a hold of Laura's wrist and pulls her arm up from its place on the bed, and positions it on her back.
“Here,” Kiden says, and reaches across to do the same with the other arm, “Should be more comfortable...”
Kiden starts working her fingers again, and Laura finds she likes the closeness. Likes the way Kiden has her cheek placed against hers as she pushes inside her, harder now, so that Laura can feel her breathing heavily into her ear. She murmurs something, and when Laura says her name for a second time, different this time, somehow, she even moans a little.
Laura holds her tight around her back, tries to move her body to the rhythm Kiden sets, even thought the weight of Kiden's offers resistance, keeps her held down.
She tries not to be so rigid-Kiden wasn't. Kiden relaxed, wrapped her arms and legs and self all around her. Her fingers twitch, and then she flexes them one by one, finding purchase on Kiden's back, between her shoulder blades.
And that is enough-Kiden drives her fingers faster, harder, and Laura finds she cannot breathe fast enough, cannot stop what she's feeling, or block it out. The feeling rises up, leaves her throat as dry sounds, half-words, that are foreign in her mouth; before she can comprehend what has happened, Kiden is propped up on her elbows, fingers brushing against Laura's mouth, the other hand stroking her hair.
Laura looks up at her, vision strained, and not because of the dark. She needs to regulate her breathing, to clear her mind. Kiden smiles, and she is worse off for it. Laura closes her eyes and mouth, lips rested around the tips of Kiden's fingers. She wants to say something, but knows she cannot be trusted to talk in this state-and so she lays there, Kiden shifting so that she's laying with her head against the curve of her neck.
Kiden is happy. She is happy.
Laura is not certain whether things should equal out thus.
*
Kiden stretches as she sits up, naked, back towards her. Laura watches as the muscles in her back move; the ways in which Kiden stretches her arms are of no benefit to her, physically. She considers telling her this, but doesn't; instead, she reaches out with one hand, and presses her palm flat against Kiden's back, slowly sliding it upwards until she reaches her shoulder.
Titling her head against Laura's hand, Kiden makes a short-affectionate, Laura supposes-noise, before suddenly turning towards her, finger pointed right at her forehead.
“Dammit Laura,” she says, unwavering, “You're the one with a healing factor here, not me!”
With that she is up and off the bed, pulling a shirt over her head. Laura does not understand. She recalculates in her head. Kiden should be happy-nothing went wrong last night, yesterday during the day, or the night before that. They had been fine, pressed together, under and above the bedsheets. She replays it, and cannot work out what mistake she has made.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks, pulling the bed covers up to her collar-bone.
“Huh?”
“You are not happy,” Laura states.
Stopping half-way through getting dressed, Kiden sighs and sits on the edge of the bed.
“Is that why you were doing this? To make me happy?” Kiden looks a little unsettled, but that does not stop her from reaching out and taking on of Laura's hand from the edge of the duvet and holding it between her own.
Laura nods.
“I mean, Laura, the sex is great, seriously. Seriously. But we don't have to do that all day, every day, y'know?”
Laura shakes her head.
“So, you're only happy with me when we're in bed?” Kiden asks.
“I am happy when I am with you for many reasons.”
And she is. Laura doesn't understand why Kiden looks at her at her as if she wasn't aware of that, as if she's a little unsure of what Laura actually means. Laura straightens where she sits, but offers nothing in the way of explanation; simply glances down at their entwined hands without so much as a nod.
Not ready to smile yet, Kiden squeezes her hand and asks, “Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Hm,” Laura says. It's an awkward noise, like she's trying to push her thoughts to the surface, but being called on it makes her head feel heavy, and nothing specific will come to mind. It is not because Kiden buys her things, or because she makes her breakfast in the morning; it is not even because Kiden speaks to her when no one else would, during the times when Laura has no reply, nothing worth saying, and yet Kiden is treating her like a person, like she's no different than anyone else.
It's not simply these things, and more, put together. Laura doesn't know what it is, or how to say it; Kiden, she thinks, would probably say something with a grin, and leave Laura wondering how she ever managed to make her feel like that. She bows her head further, so that her hair falls down from behind her ears, covering her face.
“Because it is you,” Laura says, hand tightening around Kiden's, and waits for her to laugh at her. She has not managed to word it very well.
And yet Kiden is silent. Laura feels her fingers against the side of her head, pushing her hair back so she can see her face. Kiden grins out the side of her mouth, leant over so that she's looking up at Laura.
“See?” Kiden eventually says, still looking at her as if she's actually said something of substance. They were just words, Laura thinks-jumbled words she couldn't even get out in the right order. She has so much more see needs to say, and Kiden understanding this, being patient with her, only adds to that list.
“Mm.”
“So, come on,” Kiden says, back on her feet already. She dresses quickly, hopping around the room with one leg in her pants as she searches for socks, and throws Laura her shirt in the process.
Kiden leaves the room before her, waving loosely over her shoulder, leaving Laura to think. Perhaps she should do something else for Kiden, but she does not know what. She thinks, comes up with nothing, and it annoys her. Had Kiden not shouted at her from the other room, Laura would've spent far longer sat there, staring at the wall.
Kiden's slouched against the sofa when she makes her way into the living room, smashing her thumb against the TV remote as she brings her arm above her shoulder and thrusts it downwards so that the remote's pointed directly at the screen, over and over again. Laura folds her arms and watches her, perplexed, for a moment.
“Out of batteries,” Kiden says, and then smiles painfully widely at Laura, “Switch it to DVD for me?”
Laura nods, and steps across the room. She's watched TV with her enough times with Kiden to have this down to an art; she hits the button on the side of the TV, and the static screen splutters, struggling to turn black. The TV makes a whining noise, before relenting, and whatever movie it is Kiden's decided to indulge in this time begins to play.
She sits down against the sofa arm, out of the way of the screen. She expects that Kiden think she's going to surprise her, but doesn't say anything. Counting backwards from five, she reaches one, and then as if on cue, Kiden's arms shoots around her stomach and pull her down on top of her.
Kiden doesn't say or do anything more, just lays there with Laura on top of her. She keeps her eyes fixed on the screen, laughs in all the right places, and Laura is not sure what she adds to the experience.
“Is this all?” Laura asks, but does not mean to speak over the movie.
“Huh?” Kiden's attention is split between Laura and the TV.
“This is all you want?” Laura asks, and then finds herself able to clarify, for once, “To sit here, to watch television; I am not doing anything for you.”
Apparently haven forgotten that the batteries were out, Kiden reaches over and waves the remote at the TV, trying to pause it. She swears under her breath when she realises what she's done, and then throws the controller against the carpet.
“Laura, if you weren't here I'd be missing you too much, lose interest in the film and go and find you. Then I'd probably drag you in here to watch the movie with me, so yeah,” Kiden explains, “This is all I want.”
“Oh.”
She feels Kiden's arms tighten around her, and then she shakes with laughter, only managing to silence herself by pressing her mouth against the back of Laura's head.
“Laura, don't be stupid,” she says, kissing her through another laugh, “'course I'm happy with you. 'course I love you.”
Laura expects her body to tense, for her mind to ache at the words, but rather, she realises she is smiling. Turning to face Kiden, she nods her head and kisses her cheek; not to make her happy, but because she wants to.
“Thank you,” she says, and that is enough.