Careful Confessions 2/2
Title: Careful Confessions
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Calzona
Disclaimer: Still not mine, damn!
Summary: This is an AU fic (to go along with my budding 'verse) about how Callie and Arizona’s relationship began in med school. Kinda complicated, sexy, but definitely made from all the right Calzona stuff we love.
A/N: Thank you to the Lj wife. Apparently we're so married we post updates of our stories on the same days. At any rate, thaaanks.
She holds out her hand as we leave the bar and I’m suddenly nervous. My palms are a little sweaty and I feel childish again. I want this girl so badly that I can’t say anything but, “Wow, huge moon, dude.”
“Dude?” Arizona asks, brows furrowing as she looks up at the night sky. “It is pretty big, I guess.”
I swallow as we get even closer to my apartment. I’m so nervous that it’s sad. Usually, I pride myself on my ability to keep a cool head, but right now I’m swallowing rapidly, hoping Arizona won’t notice the slickness of my palms.
Instead, she’s humming, eyes lidding as she walks along to keep a pace with mine. She’s so gorgeous, so carefree right now that I think of all the movies I’ve seen about dream girls. Arizona Robbins is a dream girl, and I’d never say that out loud, but she totally is.
“What are you thinking right now,” I ask her, squeezing her hand to let her know I’m still here.
“I’m thinking about that time you told me you were afraid of hippos because they had really screwed up bottom teeth and how I laughed at you while you pouted in your pyjamas. But really what I should have done is kiss you, because you’re adorable.”
Her eyes meet mine and my heart’s hammering again, “You should have kissed me.”
“I promise to make up for it,” She murmurs, as we stop at my door while I fumble for my keys.
Her arms slip around me from behind, comfortably melding against my curves. All I want to do is press back into her, but I’m shaking for the key on the ring, trying to find the right one. Her hand slips up to my oxford, undoing another button and I bite my lip to keep from making another sound.
I finally find the key and press into the door, gaining us access. We walk to the elevator, my cheeks burning with need and her innocent little face looking anywhere but at me. I want to kiss her again; I want her to undo my buttons. But I’m scared.
When the elevator hits the ground floor and the doors slide open, slowly, she and I make our way inside. She takes my hand again, like she’s making sure I’m not going anywhere, but I’m right there with her the whole entire way. I’ve already readied the key to my apartment, making sure that we can get in swiftly. When we do, I flick on the lights.
The couch is tidy. No Cristina, no books, no pens, no coffee cups.
“Cristina?” I call out tentatively. “You home?”
But there’s no reply. I’m assuming she’s at Meredith’s already.
All of a sudden, Arizona looks shy, tugging on the sleeves of her cardigan while she looks at me, smiling a little. She spies the gin she brought from earlier and I meet her gaze.
“You hungry gin hound,” I accuse, playfully.
“I feel like I need the liquid courage,” she admits, shyly.
My face falls without warning and I kick off my shoes, enjoying the feeling of carpeting against my now heel-less feet.
“So you need booze to want to do this with me? That’s comforting,” I smirk, ruefully.
Arizona’s mouth opens and closes before she huffs. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
I shake my head, opening a cupboard for a glass so I can get myself some water. After pouring it from the sink, I stand there, staring.
“Then. what?”
“You just make me nervous, Callie.”
“Okay? So you think being drunk is the cure-all for that?” I scoff as I sip some water.
“Stop,” Arizona pleads, softly. “I’m just- you’re just… Callie.”
“What?” I’m sounding more bitter than I intend.
“Please,” she bargains, but I don’t know why. “Callie, I meant what I said earlier.”
I look at her, wordlessly shrugging my shoulders.
“You’re special, Callie. I don’t need alcohol to do this with you, but you’re just... different. You bring out the best in me, and it makes me nervous, but it’s also so exciting.” she pauses, finding her words, looking anywhere but at me, “And I think I do the same for you...”
I freeze, setting the glass down to really look at her. Those big blue eyes are focused so intently on mine that the severity of her statement kinda slaps me in the face. I’m stunned to silence (and that’s no easy feat).
“Seriously, Calliope Torres. I mean it.”
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Like a train. Like a whole bunch of clichés.
“You do?” I ask gently.
“I do,” she soothes, tentatively closing the space between us.
She sets my water glass on the counter as her hands come to rest on either side of me. I’m kissing her again without realizing how deeply, her cardigan’s off of her, that thin camisole rolling between my fingers so softly. I want to tug it over her head, but I don’t at the same time. I just like feeling her lips on mine, her tongue slipping past my lips. How she’s backed me into a corner. I’m gasping a little as she hurriedly undoes the buttons on my shirt, tugging me against her so my bare stomach’s against the cotton of her shirt.
I tip my head backward, giving Arizona the leverage to start kissing down my neck, an experience that’s definitely new with Arizona, but welcome nonetheless. I gasp again, fingers threading through her bouncy curls, wanting her to stay put, to keep doing that. I’m usually pretty vocal about these things with men, but with Arizona I don’t really have time to process all of the knee-weakening stuff this girl does with her mouth. When her teeth graze my pulse point, I’m not sure I can stand upright in the kitchen anymore.
“C-Can we...go to my room? Bed? My bed?” I manage, watching my button down hit the floor.
“You don’t wanna stay in the kitchen?” She says, and my stomach flip flops.
“Uh-- wh-what?”
She giggles, “I’m kidding, Callie.”
Darn, just when I was getting used to the idea of her servicing me on the counter.
“Bed though?” I ask, as she reaches around, unclasping my bra with what appears to be a snap of her fingers. “Arizona!”
“Sorry, too pre-emptive?” She tries to look bashful, but I know her game all too well.
I slip the bra off of my torso, letting it join my shirt on the floor. Arizona is stunned and actually stumbles back a little, blushing. After a few seconds she regains the courage, stepping forward again as her hands softly caress me from my hips, spending time to trace the curve up toward my chest.
“You are super, super beautiful,” she mumbles, distractedly.
I feel awkward for a second, which quickly evaporates as her hands come up to gently cup my breasts, moving in to kiss me again. Of course I’m putty in her hands at this point, and can barely get my brain to send the message to my arms that they should be wrapped around her and not hanging idly at my sides.
Her thumbs sneak around to my nipples, teasing them, gently grazing with her fingertips. The touches are so light that they’re driving me insane. I want more, no, I need more than that. As much as I want her to keep going, to kind of hoist me onto the counter space and keep doing what she’s doing, I don’t want Cristina to walk in on us. She’s famous for shit like that.
Stopping her takes a real effort, especially when her mouth starts the descent along my chest, teeth grazing my collar bone.
“Please,” I say gently, untangling from her and back pedaling toward my bedroom door, holding out my hand for her. She takes it, smiling broadly to me as we make it the short distance to my bedroom.
I close the door, glancing at her nervously. I’m still topless and she’s still in that tight, thin tank top. This whole uncertainty thing is really getting old. If Arizona were a man, I’m pretty sure I would be laying under her right now with my heels to Jesus.
Heels to Jesus? Who am I turning into? That Mark Sloan?
Arizona leans against my dresser, only a few feet from where I’m standing at the foot of my bed, just looking at me in that way that almost suggests I’m the best thing she’s ever seen. It’s that look-- eyes on mine, open and vulnerable, sort of scared, really turned on, and almost inspired. It’s kind of awesome. Kind of terrifying.
Slowly, she walks her way back over to me, wrapping me in her arms. I chuckle, the shakiness evident in my voice.
“Are you okay?” She asks, fingers splaying out against my back, just touching me softly, soothingly.
I nod, my arms looping around her waist, smiling at her concern. She’s so sweet, “I am. But I still wanna know where you’d kiss me.”
“I’ll have to undo your jeans for that,” she answers smoothly and my eyes widen.
“Just trust me.”
I do, so I nod, letting out a shaky breath when her hands leave my back, coming around to the button on my jeans. She opens it gently, then tugs down my zipper with that same finesse before lowering herself to her knees. Tugging on my jeans just a little she exposes just the top of my underwear. I think back to my decision to wear cute ones, applauding my choice. The little giggle she lets off at seeing them is adorable to boot.
She smiles up at me before sliding her hands around my thighs, settling firmly on my ass before pushing my body closer to her lips. I could definitely get used to this feeling. She presses her lips against my hip bone, gently teasing her tongue along the skin as she does so.
I nearly die, or ya know, fall, but she’s still holding onto me.
“That’s where you wanted to kiss me?” I whisper.
She nods, “Yeah. This one time, I woke up at your apartment. You were sleeping, of course, and I guess in the night your shirt rode up a little and your shorts were kind of low, and I had to fight the urge not to just touch you, to lean down and kiss you.”
I’m blushing, thankful for the semi-darkness of my bedroom. “Seriously?”
“Yep,” she grins. “Seriously.”
My hands stroke through her hair, liking the feeling of it between my fingers. She smiles, then leans in toward my hip, kissing it again, but this time also grazing it with her teeth. I gasp, instinctively balling my fists and tugging her closer by her hair.
She doesn’t let up, alternating between kissing and nipping and running her tongue along the skin there. I’m panting a little, and barely have time to process her stand up and push us back toward the bed, landing us there with her on top, a knee in between my thighs.
I want her closer, so I pull her down by that tank top, clawing it up over her head once she’s got her lips against my neck. I like feeling her bare skin against my own, love it when she reaches back with one hand and undoes her bra, adore it when I can feel her breasts against my own. She’s panting. Her reverence with kneeling in front of me and kissing my hip is quickly replaced by something animalistic-- and extremely hot. She’s torn between biting my neck and dragging a hand down my side, sucking against my skin or grazing my hip with her nails.
I’m panting right with her, hands over her back, between her shoulder blades. I just want her mouth on me, though, so I pull her closer by the back of her neck and kiss her. Her tongue’s in my mouth and her hands are pulling down my jeans while her feet finish the job, kicking my pants off of the bed. Her hand comes to rest on my stomach, and I can tell she’s nervous because she’s shaking a little. Or maybe that’s not so much nerves as it is desire.
She looks at me again, teasing at top of my underwear, dragging her fingertips just over top of the waist band, tickling the extremely sensitive skin there. Her fingertips dip under the fabric, teasing me still. I just want her a little further south, that’s all. When I lift my hips, she smiles.
“What do you want me to do?” she asks, fingers sliding closer to where I want no --need-- them to be.
“Just touch me, Arizona,” I’m not begging, but I’m pretty damn close to it.
She brings the hand that was teasing inside of my underwear back out and hooks her fingers on both sides of my boy shorts, rolling the material down and off my hips. Realizing she’s still in her jeans, she hastily takes those off too before sidling up next to me, hand moving to my thigh.
I’m trying not to stare at her naked. She’s beautiful; lean curves, strong thighs, and a really silly pink butterfly tattoo on her hip. I reach over to touch it, stroke one of its wings with my thumb. It’s such a cliché thing to get tattooed on your person, but it suits Arizona so well.
She grins, hand still caressing me, sliding against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, before she moves higher. I just want her to touch me, really. I’m having a hard time believing this is actually (finally) happening and despite the drinks we had at Joe’s I’m pretty self-aware. Maybe it’s the adrenaline rush this girl is giving me. Or the fact that she’s gasping a little when her fingers slip high enough that she can feel how wet she’s made me.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, sliding a finger inside of me as she comes to lavish my neck with attention again.
I wrap an arm around her, trying to keep her against my neck, loving the way she bites it, then soothes it over with her tongue. The finger inside of me quickly gathers the wetness it finds and brings it to my clit. I gasp when she starts working me in these tight little motions. When my back arches, her fingers sink inside of me again, stroking while she bites my ear, moans at how sexy she thinks I am. Her fingers curl then resume pushing into me in these long strokes.
I’m moaning, so much that I don’t even realize, pulling her down on top of me. There’s nothing better than the feeling of this girl on top of me and inside of me, laying bites and sucks against my neck and chest. When she brings her hips to rock behind her hand, my legs are around her, locking her into place. She’s shaking still, and it’s the hottest thing. I can tell how turned on she’s gotten from how hard she’s thrusting into me, her thumb flicking and rubbing my clit.
“You’re so fucking..God, I can’t believe I’m..you’re so hot,” she manages, panting.
Her fingers are buried deep inside of me and it’s taking every last stitch of stamina to keep up with her frenzied fucking. I love it though. The last person I had sex with was Mark Sloan and that lasted all of ten minutes. This, however.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, feeling that familiar tingle between my legs, that pressure.
I grab a fistful of her hair to pull her mouth to mine while she fucks me, rolling her hips so hard I know we’re going to feel it tomorrow. That thought makes me shudder. I wanna feel it.
Arizona’s whispering right against my ear how hot this is and how badly she wants to feel me come for her and that’s when I can no longer hold off any longer. When I come, I’m nearly screaming, the steady sound of my bed moving with effort drowned out by the cries of Arizona’s name.
Who knew that perky blonde girl fucked like a champ.
Oh God, did I really just think that?
She rolls off of me, chest rising and falling as swiftly as mine is. We turn our heads to look at each other, take a second, and then collectively bust out laughing. I’m laughing so hard that tears are leaking out of the corners of my eyes and Arizona’s doing that thing where she’s trying not to snort, but it’s failing, only spurring my laughter on even more.
“Did we really...?” She begins.
“Fuck? Well, I’m no expert on lesbian sex, but...”
Another peal of laughter breaks out before I scoot closer to her, settling my head on her chest. She strokes my hair affectionately, kissing the top of my head. My hand goes to her flat little stomach, toying with the slight definition there. She laughs again, but this time it’s more sultry and less hilarious.
“That was really, really,” I smile.
“Really really? Huh. Never heard that one before,” she huffs, sarcastically.
I push her shoulder playfully. “Really good.”
She smiles at me, leaning down to kiss me again. It’s slower and sweeter and it makes my heart start to race again. Before I realize, I’m on top of her, deepening the kiss with one swipe of my tongue against hers. She moans into my mouth, wrapping a leg loosely around my thigh. The shift in our position makes for a very sort of vulnerable Arizona Robbins. My hand, emboldened by the high I’ve apparently gotten off of this whole evening travels down in between us.
I have one of these, so I mean, how hard could it really be?
I slip a hand between her thighs, listening to her breathing quicken as it happens. My middle finger, hesitant at first, slips upward, following the path hers took on me. And she’s, really, really wet. It startles me at first and I jump. Sure, I’ve felt myself, but this is different. She finds my eyes and locks them.
“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” she smiles softly.
“No, I want to, Arizona, but...I...uh...”
Tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, she chuckles softly. “I can walk you through it?”
It sounds so sexy coming from her that I forget to feel sheepish and nod without questioning myself. Smiling, she shimmies a little so that I'm on my side next to her and taking a hold of my hand. She kisses the back of it then settles it against her inner thigh, the pulls back so it’s just my hand on the soft skin.
I touch her gently, at first, just feeling her skin. She’s so soft. I just can’t get over that fact. She’s patiently looking at me with this peaceful little smile on her face and all of a sudden I’m nervous. So nervous that my hand pulls away.
“So, when did you get your tattoo?”
“My w-what?” She asks, eyeing my hand on the sheets instead of her skin.
“This,” I point. “This butterfly.”
“I was um, oh, in college. Freshman year maybe? Got it with my roommate. She has a frog, because they’re her favorite.” Her tone is kind of flat, but she clears her throat, reaching for the sheet to sneak it up her body.
I sigh and groan, lowering my head to rest on the pillow beside hers, “I am nervous, I’m sorry.”
“Calliope, come here,” she orders softly, opening her arms to me. “I told you we didn’t have to do this.”
I hesitantly fall into her arms, letting her kiss and coddle me. I like that best about Arizona. She’s this total light-hearted pretty pretty princess on the outside, but she’s tougher than she looks. She’s got a nice, strong hold around my shoulders and I love it. She makes me feel safe.
“I want to, I do,” I say after a few minutes of these cuddles, offering her my hand again.
Taking it, Arizona smiles at me. I wonder if she just does that ‘cause she knows those dimples are enough to melt me every time.
“Okay,” I swallow. “Show me.”
She shivers a little. “So hot. Ready?”
“Yeah,” I nod, and she takes both of our hands, settling them between her thighs. She lines our hands up, her middle finger on top of mine as she slides both through her wetness. I gasp at the feeling and the way her brows knit together.
“Okay,” she murmurs, untangling her hand, “Mm, see how worked up you get me, Torres?”
I grin, feeling what she means underneath my fingertips.
“Now, move your finger up to my clit,” she says softly, waiting for me to do so, my middle finger dragging upward until I find it.
She lets off a ragged breath, “Mhm, right there. N-now, move your finger a little, just not too hard.”
I scoff. “It’s not a turn table, Arizona, I get that.”
Smirking at me, she tips her head back a little as my finger starts to move. I wonder if I’m making her feel this good, or if she’s putting it on for my benefit. Regardless, it’s sexy for the moment. My finger works her like I’ve worked myself. Not too much pressure, flicking occasionally with the main attraction being the tight circles.
Arizona gasps, nodding her head. “Mm, yeah. Callie, that’s really good.”
At the sound of my name, my motions speed up and I lean forward to kiss her neck, biting it in the same fashion, she bit me.
“Fuck,” she moans, “O-okay now, Mm...G-God, Callie. Right there. Okay, now. Slide two fingers back down. I need you inside of me.”
A pang of what feels like electricity shoots through my body at her words. I push two fingers inside of her, gasping at how she’s gone from being really turned on to incredibly turned on. My fingers just slide right in. I’m kind of impressed with myself for turning her on this much.
“God, yes,” she pants, “All the way in.”
It’s sexy how she talks like this in bed, and I wouldn’t be upset if she told me what to do like this all the time. I do as told, pushing my fingers all the way in. I’m intently watching her face, the way she bites her lip as her brows furrow.
“O-okay, now, I think you’re good from here,” she manages, hips rising to meet my somewhat slow thrusts. It’s hot, her needing me like this.
I gain a little confidence in my thrusts, making a rhythm to match Arizona’s hips. I like watching her stomach tighten, her thighs shake a little. When she brings a hand up to play with her own clit, I think that might be the hottest sight of all.
I push into her harder, watching her take it, listening to her moans. I could get off again, by how sexy this girl is, I think. No, I know. I’m torn between watching her hand, or her chest rise and fall, or noticing how she’s broken a sweat. I manoeuvre closer to her, mirroring her position from earlier. While I’m on top, she wraps her arms around my back, nails scratching into the skin just under my shoulder blades while my hips drive my fingers in deeper.
She keeps saying my name over and over again and I’m shaking a little, wanting her to come for me. The way she’s got a death grip behind me and how her legs come to lock around my hips, I think I could come again. Her own hips start to move faster against my fingers, her teeth sinking into my shoulder. I feel her clench around my fingers and then hear the explosion of screams, of praises, of Gods and swear words and a long, satisfied moan.
When I go to pull my fingers out, she grabs my wrist. “Just hang on a second, I like feeling this close to you.”
I smile and kiss her, settling next to her. My lips kiss her shoulder, snuggling against her. She hums something unintelligible as she closes her eyes.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, okay?” She murmurs.
“Oh, great, just the words I wanna hear. Are you gonna call me a cab from my own apartment, next?”
Laughing, she shakes her head, “No! Then who would make me breakfast in the morning? Cristina? Please.” She rolls her eyes. “I just was gonna say, that was really good, better than I, uh, anticipated.”
I gasp. “Straight girls are not idiots in bed, Arizona.”
“Uhh, well, the ones I’ve been with kinda sucked. ”
“You are terrible! You didn’t give them any coaching?”
She looks up at me, “Uh, no, you’re the first girl I’ve ever done that with.”
I snicker. “This may come as a shock to you, but you’re the first one I’ve done that with as well.”
We giggle together, giddy in the aftermath. I finally pull out my fingers, using both hands to wrap her up in my arms. She fits really well. Just a little shorter than me, smaller than me. We’re like a great little puzzle of snuggling. Still kind of giggly from earlier, Arizona traces patterns with her fingertips against my arm.
“Confession,” Arizona begins with a smirk, “I have totally thought about this night a least a hundred times, hoping it would happen someday.”
“A hundred?”
“Okay, maybe like three or four times.”
I smile at her, watching her dimples as she laughs again. “Yeah? Well, did it live up to its hype?”
“For some reason there was always 5ive playing in the background in my head.”
I gasp. “What?”
She smirks. “Kidding, the CD case is on your dresser. But, busted.”
I groan and playfully roll away from her. “There’s nothing wrong with 5ive!”
Arizona laughs, and I can tell she’s probably rolling her eyes. “Right, Callie. They’re awesome.”
She spoons me from behind, pressing naked warm skin into my back. It’s delicious. I settle against her. “Don’t tell anyone about my 5ive CD.”
“Don’t tell anyone about my pink butterfly tattoo.”
“Deal,” I say, smirking at the memory of the tattoo.
She kisses the spot in between my shoulder blades, smiling some against the skin.
“What are you cooking me for breakfast?” She muses.
“Considering we have cold pizza and mustard in the fridge, I figured I’d take you out.”
“Mm, we can’t go out in public. Too many hickies.”
I laugh, finally starting to wind down. “Way to be fourteen, Arizona.”
“I was not giving girls hickies at fourteen, Callie. Try fifteen.”
“Playa.”
She laughs again, and I can tell she’s sleepy too.
“Arizona?” I say, feeling her tighten her hold on me a bit.
“Yeah?”
“Confession,” I smile, glad I’m turned away from her so she can’t see my blush through the darkened bedroom. “I could really get used to this.”
Sighing happily, Arizona kisses the back of my head, “Me, too.”
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Calzona
Disclaimer: Still not mine, damn!
Summary: This is an AU fic (to go along with my budding 'verse) about how Callie and Arizona’s relationship began in med school. Kinda complicated, sexy, but definitely made from all the right Calzona stuff we love.
A/N: Thank you to the Lj wife. Apparently we're so married we post updates of our stories on the same days. At any rate, thaaanks.
She holds out her hand as we leave the bar and I’m suddenly nervous. My palms are a little sweaty and I feel childish again. I want this girl so badly that I can’t say anything but, “Wow, huge moon, dude.”
“Dude?” Arizona asks, brows furrowing as she looks up at the night sky. “It is pretty big, I guess.”
I swallow as we get even closer to my apartment. I’m so nervous that it’s sad. Usually, I pride myself on my ability to keep a cool head, but right now I’m swallowing rapidly, hoping Arizona won’t notice the slickness of my palms.
Instead, she’s humming, eyes lidding as she walks along to keep a pace with mine. She’s so gorgeous, so carefree right now that I think of all the movies I’ve seen about dream girls. Arizona Robbins is a dream girl, and I’d never say that out loud, but she totally is.
“What are you thinking right now,” I ask her, squeezing her hand to let her know I’m still here.
“I’m thinking about that time you told me you were afraid of hippos because they had really screwed up bottom teeth and how I laughed at you while you pouted in your pyjamas. But really what I should have done is kiss you, because you’re adorable.”
Her eyes meet mine and my heart’s hammering again, “You should have kissed me.”
“I promise to make up for it,” She murmurs, as we stop at my door while I fumble for my keys.
Her arms slip around me from behind, comfortably melding against my curves. All I want to do is press back into her, but I’m shaking for the key on the ring, trying to find the right one. Her hand slips up to my oxford, undoing another button and I bite my lip to keep from making another sound.
I finally find the key and press into the door, gaining us access. We walk to the elevator, my cheeks burning with need and her innocent little face looking anywhere but at me. I want to kiss her again; I want her to undo my buttons. But I’m scared.
When the elevator hits the ground floor and the doors slide open, slowly, she and I make our way inside. She takes my hand again, like she’s making sure I’m not going anywhere, but I’m right there with her the whole entire way. I’ve already readied the key to my apartment, making sure that we can get in swiftly. When we do, I flick on the lights.
The couch is tidy. No Cristina, no books, no pens, no coffee cups.
“Cristina?” I call out tentatively. “You home?”
But there’s no reply. I’m assuming she’s at Meredith’s already.
All of a sudden, Arizona looks shy, tugging on the sleeves of her cardigan while she looks at me, smiling a little. She spies the gin she brought from earlier and I meet her gaze.
“You hungry gin hound,” I accuse, playfully.
“I feel like I need the liquid courage,” she admits, shyly.
My face falls without warning and I kick off my shoes, enjoying the feeling of carpeting against my now heel-less feet.
“So you need booze to want to do this with me? That’s comforting,” I smirk, ruefully.
Arizona’s mouth opens and closes before she huffs. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
I shake my head, opening a cupboard for a glass so I can get myself some water. After pouring it from the sink, I stand there, staring.
“Then. what?”
“You just make me nervous, Callie.”
“Okay? So you think being drunk is the cure-all for that?” I scoff as I sip some water.
“Stop,” Arizona pleads, softly. “I’m just- you’re just… Callie.”
“What?” I’m sounding more bitter than I intend.
“Please,” she bargains, but I don’t know why. “Callie, I meant what I said earlier.”
I look at her, wordlessly shrugging my shoulders.
“You’re special, Callie. I don’t need alcohol to do this with you, but you’re just... different. You bring out the best in me, and it makes me nervous, but it’s also so exciting.” she pauses, finding her words, looking anywhere but at me, “And I think I do the same for you...”
I freeze, setting the glass down to really look at her. Those big blue eyes are focused so intently on mine that the severity of her statement kinda slaps me in the face. I’m stunned to silence (and that’s no easy feat).
“Seriously, Calliope Torres. I mean it.”
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Like a train. Like a whole bunch of clichés.
“You do?” I ask gently.
“I do,” she soothes, tentatively closing the space between us.
She sets my water glass on the counter as her hands come to rest on either side of me. I’m kissing her again without realizing how deeply, her cardigan’s off of her, that thin camisole rolling between my fingers so softly. I want to tug it over her head, but I don’t at the same time. I just like feeling her lips on mine, her tongue slipping past my lips. How she’s backed me into a corner. I’m gasping a little as she hurriedly undoes the buttons on my shirt, tugging me against her so my bare stomach’s against the cotton of her shirt.
I tip my head backward, giving Arizona the leverage to start kissing down my neck, an experience that’s definitely new with Arizona, but welcome nonetheless. I gasp again, fingers threading through her bouncy curls, wanting her to stay put, to keep doing that. I’m usually pretty vocal about these things with men, but with Arizona I don’t really have time to process all of the knee-weakening stuff this girl does with her mouth. When her teeth graze my pulse point, I’m not sure I can stand upright in the kitchen anymore.
“C-Can we...go to my room? Bed? My bed?” I manage, watching my button down hit the floor.
“You don’t wanna stay in the kitchen?” She says, and my stomach flip flops.
“Uh-- wh-what?”
She giggles, “I’m kidding, Callie.”
Darn, just when I was getting used to the idea of her servicing me on the counter.
“Bed though?” I ask, as she reaches around, unclasping my bra with what appears to be a snap of her fingers. “Arizona!”
“Sorry, too pre-emptive?” She tries to look bashful, but I know her game all too well.
I slip the bra off of my torso, letting it join my shirt on the floor. Arizona is stunned and actually stumbles back a little, blushing. After a few seconds she regains the courage, stepping forward again as her hands softly caress me from my hips, spending time to trace the curve up toward my chest.
“You are super, super beautiful,” she mumbles, distractedly.
I feel awkward for a second, which quickly evaporates as her hands come up to gently cup my breasts, moving in to kiss me again. Of course I’m putty in her hands at this point, and can barely get my brain to send the message to my arms that they should be wrapped around her and not hanging idly at my sides.
Her thumbs sneak around to my nipples, teasing them, gently grazing with her fingertips. The touches are so light that they’re driving me insane. I want more, no, I need more than that. As much as I want her to keep going, to kind of hoist me onto the counter space and keep doing what she’s doing, I don’t want Cristina to walk in on us. She’s famous for shit like that.
Stopping her takes a real effort, especially when her mouth starts the descent along my chest, teeth grazing my collar bone.
“Please,” I say gently, untangling from her and back pedaling toward my bedroom door, holding out my hand for her. She takes it, smiling broadly to me as we make it the short distance to my bedroom.
I close the door, glancing at her nervously. I’m still topless and she’s still in that tight, thin tank top. This whole uncertainty thing is really getting old. If Arizona were a man, I’m pretty sure I would be laying under her right now with my heels to Jesus.
Heels to Jesus? Who am I turning into? That Mark Sloan?
Arizona leans against my dresser, only a few feet from where I’m standing at the foot of my bed, just looking at me in that way that almost suggests I’m the best thing she’s ever seen. It’s that look-- eyes on mine, open and vulnerable, sort of scared, really turned on, and almost inspired. It’s kind of awesome. Kind of terrifying.
Slowly, she walks her way back over to me, wrapping me in her arms. I chuckle, the shakiness evident in my voice.
“Are you okay?” She asks, fingers splaying out against my back, just touching me softly, soothingly.
I nod, my arms looping around her waist, smiling at her concern. She’s so sweet, “I am. But I still wanna know where you’d kiss me.”
“I’ll have to undo your jeans for that,” she answers smoothly and my eyes widen.
“Just trust me.”
I do, so I nod, letting out a shaky breath when her hands leave my back, coming around to the button on my jeans. She opens it gently, then tugs down my zipper with that same finesse before lowering herself to her knees. Tugging on my jeans just a little she exposes just the top of my underwear. I think back to my decision to wear cute ones, applauding my choice. The little giggle she lets off at seeing them is adorable to boot.
She smiles up at me before sliding her hands around my thighs, settling firmly on my ass before pushing my body closer to her lips. I could definitely get used to this feeling. She presses her lips against my hip bone, gently teasing her tongue along the skin as she does so.
I nearly die, or ya know, fall, but she’s still holding onto me.
“That’s where you wanted to kiss me?” I whisper.
She nods, “Yeah. This one time, I woke up at your apartment. You were sleeping, of course, and I guess in the night your shirt rode up a little and your shorts were kind of low, and I had to fight the urge not to just touch you, to lean down and kiss you.”
I’m blushing, thankful for the semi-darkness of my bedroom. “Seriously?”
“Yep,” she grins. “Seriously.”
My hands stroke through her hair, liking the feeling of it between my fingers. She smiles, then leans in toward my hip, kissing it again, but this time also grazing it with her teeth. I gasp, instinctively balling my fists and tugging her closer by her hair.
She doesn’t let up, alternating between kissing and nipping and running her tongue along the skin there. I’m panting a little, and barely have time to process her stand up and push us back toward the bed, landing us there with her on top, a knee in between my thighs.
I want her closer, so I pull her down by that tank top, clawing it up over her head once she’s got her lips against my neck. I like feeling her bare skin against my own, love it when she reaches back with one hand and undoes her bra, adore it when I can feel her breasts against my own. She’s panting. Her reverence with kneeling in front of me and kissing my hip is quickly replaced by something animalistic-- and extremely hot. She’s torn between biting my neck and dragging a hand down my side, sucking against my skin or grazing my hip with her nails.
I’m panting right with her, hands over her back, between her shoulder blades. I just want her mouth on me, though, so I pull her closer by the back of her neck and kiss her. Her tongue’s in my mouth and her hands are pulling down my jeans while her feet finish the job, kicking my pants off of the bed. Her hand comes to rest on my stomach, and I can tell she’s nervous because she’s shaking a little. Or maybe that’s not so much nerves as it is desire.
She looks at me again, teasing at top of my underwear, dragging her fingertips just over top of the waist band, tickling the extremely sensitive skin there. Her fingertips dip under the fabric, teasing me still. I just want her a little further south, that’s all. When I lift my hips, she smiles.
“What do you want me to do?” she asks, fingers sliding closer to where I want no --need-- them to be.
“Just touch me, Arizona,” I’m not begging, but I’m pretty damn close to it.
She brings the hand that was teasing inside of my underwear back out and hooks her fingers on both sides of my boy shorts, rolling the material down and off my hips. Realizing she’s still in her jeans, she hastily takes those off too before sidling up next to me, hand moving to my thigh.
I’m trying not to stare at her naked. She’s beautiful; lean curves, strong thighs, and a really silly pink butterfly tattoo on her hip. I reach over to touch it, stroke one of its wings with my thumb. It’s such a cliché thing to get tattooed on your person, but it suits Arizona so well.
She grins, hand still caressing me, sliding against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, before she moves higher. I just want her to touch me, really. I’m having a hard time believing this is actually (finally) happening and despite the drinks we had at Joe’s I’m pretty self-aware. Maybe it’s the adrenaline rush this girl is giving me. Or the fact that she’s gasping a little when her fingers slip high enough that she can feel how wet she’s made me.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, sliding a finger inside of me as she comes to lavish my neck with attention again.
I wrap an arm around her, trying to keep her against my neck, loving the way she bites it, then soothes it over with her tongue. The finger inside of me quickly gathers the wetness it finds and brings it to my clit. I gasp when she starts working me in these tight little motions. When my back arches, her fingers sink inside of me again, stroking while she bites my ear, moans at how sexy she thinks I am. Her fingers curl then resume pushing into me in these long strokes.
I’m moaning, so much that I don’t even realize, pulling her down on top of me. There’s nothing better than the feeling of this girl on top of me and inside of me, laying bites and sucks against my neck and chest. When she brings her hips to rock behind her hand, my legs are around her, locking her into place. She’s shaking still, and it’s the hottest thing. I can tell how turned on she’s gotten from how hard she’s thrusting into me, her thumb flicking and rubbing my clit.
“You’re so fucking..God, I can’t believe I’m..you’re so hot,” she manages, panting.
Her fingers are buried deep inside of me and it’s taking every last stitch of stamina to keep up with her frenzied fucking. I love it though. The last person I had sex with was Mark Sloan and that lasted all of ten minutes. This, however.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, feeling that familiar tingle between my legs, that pressure.
I grab a fistful of her hair to pull her mouth to mine while she fucks me, rolling her hips so hard I know we’re going to feel it tomorrow. That thought makes me shudder. I wanna feel it.
Arizona’s whispering right against my ear how hot this is and how badly she wants to feel me come for her and that’s when I can no longer hold off any longer. When I come, I’m nearly screaming, the steady sound of my bed moving with effort drowned out by the cries of Arizona’s name.
Who knew that perky blonde girl fucked like a champ.
Oh God, did I really just think that?
She rolls off of me, chest rising and falling as swiftly as mine is. We turn our heads to look at each other, take a second, and then collectively bust out laughing. I’m laughing so hard that tears are leaking out of the corners of my eyes and Arizona’s doing that thing where she’s trying not to snort, but it’s failing, only spurring my laughter on even more.
“Did we really...?” She begins.
“Fuck? Well, I’m no expert on lesbian sex, but...”
Another peal of laughter breaks out before I scoot closer to her, settling my head on her chest. She strokes my hair affectionately, kissing the top of my head. My hand goes to her flat little stomach, toying with the slight definition there. She laughs again, but this time it’s more sultry and less hilarious.
“That was really, really,” I smile.
“Really really? Huh. Never heard that one before,” she huffs, sarcastically.
I push her shoulder playfully. “Really good.”
She smiles at me, leaning down to kiss me again. It’s slower and sweeter and it makes my heart start to race again. Before I realize, I’m on top of her, deepening the kiss with one swipe of my tongue against hers. She moans into my mouth, wrapping a leg loosely around my thigh. The shift in our position makes for a very sort of vulnerable Arizona Robbins. My hand, emboldened by the high I’ve apparently gotten off of this whole evening travels down in between us.
I have one of these, so I mean, how hard could it really be?
I slip a hand between her thighs, listening to her breathing quicken as it happens. My middle finger, hesitant at first, slips upward, following the path hers took on me. And she’s, really, really wet. It startles me at first and I jump. Sure, I’ve felt myself, but this is different. She finds my eyes and locks them.
“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” she smiles softly.
“No, I want to, Arizona, but...I...uh...”
Tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, she chuckles softly. “I can walk you through it?”
It sounds so sexy coming from her that I forget to feel sheepish and nod without questioning myself. Smiling, she shimmies a little so that I'm on my side next to her and taking a hold of my hand. She kisses the back of it then settles it against her inner thigh, the pulls back so it’s just my hand on the soft skin.
I touch her gently, at first, just feeling her skin. She’s so soft. I just can’t get over that fact. She’s patiently looking at me with this peaceful little smile on her face and all of a sudden I’m nervous. So nervous that my hand pulls away.
“So, when did you get your tattoo?”
“My w-what?” She asks, eyeing my hand on the sheets instead of her skin.
“This,” I point. “This butterfly.”
“I was um, oh, in college. Freshman year maybe? Got it with my roommate. She has a frog, because they’re her favorite.” Her tone is kind of flat, but she clears her throat, reaching for the sheet to sneak it up her body.
I sigh and groan, lowering my head to rest on the pillow beside hers, “I am nervous, I’m sorry.”
“Calliope, come here,” she orders softly, opening her arms to me. “I told you we didn’t have to do this.”
I hesitantly fall into her arms, letting her kiss and coddle me. I like that best about Arizona. She’s this total light-hearted pretty pretty princess on the outside, but she’s tougher than she looks. She’s got a nice, strong hold around my shoulders and I love it. She makes me feel safe.
“I want to, I do,” I say after a few minutes of these cuddles, offering her my hand again.
Taking it, Arizona smiles at me. I wonder if she just does that ‘cause she knows those dimples are enough to melt me every time.
“Okay,” I swallow. “Show me.”
She shivers a little. “So hot. Ready?”
“Yeah,” I nod, and she takes both of our hands, settling them between her thighs. She lines our hands up, her middle finger on top of mine as she slides both through her wetness. I gasp at the feeling and the way her brows knit together.
“Okay,” she murmurs, untangling her hand, “Mm, see how worked up you get me, Torres?”
I grin, feeling what she means underneath my fingertips.
“Now, move your finger up to my clit,” she says softly, waiting for me to do so, my middle finger dragging upward until I find it.
She lets off a ragged breath, “Mhm, right there. N-now, move your finger a little, just not too hard.”
I scoff. “It’s not a turn table, Arizona, I get that.”
Smirking at me, she tips her head back a little as my finger starts to move. I wonder if I’m making her feel this good, or if she’s putting it on for my benefit. Regardless, it’s sexy for the moment. My finger works her like I’ve worked myself. Not too much pressure, flicking occasionally with the main attraction being the tight circles.
Arizona gasps, nodding her head. “Mm, yeah. Callie, that’s really good.”
At the sound of my name, my motions speed up and I lean forward to kiss her neck, biting it in the same fashion, she bit me.
“Fuck,” she moans, “O-okay now, Mm...G-God, Callie. Right there. Okay, now. Slide two fingers back down. I need you inside of me.”
A pang of what feels like electricity shoots through my body at her words. I push two fingers inside of her, gasping at how she’s gone from being really turned on to incredibly turned on. My fingers just slide right in. I’m kind of impressed with myself for turning her on this much.
“God, yes,” she pants, “All the way in.”
It’s sexy how she talks like this in bed, and I wouldn’t be upset if she told me what to do like this all the time. I do as told, pushing my fingers all the way in. I’m intently watching her face, the way she bites her lip as her brows furrow.
“O-okay, now, I think you’re good from here,” she manages, hips rising to meet my somewhat slow thrusts. It’s hot, her needing me like this.
I gain a little confidence in my thrusts, making a rhythm to match Arizona’s hips. I like watching her stomach tighten, her thighs shake a little. When she brings a hand up to play with her own clit, I think that might be the hottest sight of all.
I push into her harder, watching her take it, listening to her moans. I could get off again, by how sexy this girl is, I think. No, I know. I’m torn between watching her hand, or her chest rise and fall, or noticing how she’s broken a sweat. I manoeuvre closer to her, mirroring her position from earlier. While I’m on top, she wraps her arms around my back, nails scratching into the skin just under my shoulder blades while my hips drive my fingers in deeper.
She keeps saying my name over and over again and I’m shaking a little, wanting her to come for me. The way she’s got a death grip behind me and how her legs come to lock around my hips, I think I could come again. Her own hips start to move faster against my fingers, her teeth sinking into my shoulder. I feel her clench around my fingers and then hear the explosion of screams, of praises, of Gods and swear words and a long, satisfied moan.
When I go to pull my fingers out, she grabs my wrist. “Just hang on a second, I like feeling this close to you.”
I smile and kiss her, settling next to her. My lips kiss her shoulder, snuggling against her. She hums something unintelligible as she closes her eyes.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, okay?” She murmurs.
“Oh, great, just the words I wanna hear. Are you gonna call me a cab from my own apartment, next?”
Laughing, she shakes her head, “No! Then who would make me breakfast in the morning? Cristina? Please.” She rolls her eyes. “I just was gonna say, that was really good, better than I, uh, anticipated.”
I gasp. “Straight girls are not idiots in bed, Arizona.”
“Uhh, well, the ones I’ve been with kinda sucked. ”
“You are terrible! You didn’t give them any coaching?”
She looks up at me, “Uh, no, you’re the first girl I’ve ever done that with.”
I snicker. “This may come as a shock to you, but you’re the first one I’ve done that with as well.”
We giggle together, giddy in the aftermath. I finally pull out my fingers, using both hands to wrap her up in my arms. She fits really well. Just a little shorter than me, smaller than me. We’re like a great little puzzle of snuggling. Still kind of giggly from earlier, Arizona traces patterns with her fingertips against my arm.
“Confession,” Arizona begins with a smirk, “I have totally thought about this night a least a hundred times, hoping it would happen someday.”
“A hundred?”
“Okay, maybe like three or four times.”
I smile at her, watching her dimples as she laughs again. “Yeah? Well, did it live up to its hype?”
“For some reason there was always 5ive playing in the background in my head.”
I gasp. “What?”
She smirks. “Kidding, the CD case is on your dresser. But, busted.”
I groan and playfully roll away from her. “There’s nothing wrong with 5ive!”
Arizona laughs, and I can tell she’s probably rolling her eyes. “Right, Callie. They’re awesome.”
She spoons me from behind, pressing naked warm skin into my back. It’s delicious. I settle against her. “Don’t tell anyone about my 5ive CD.”
“Don’t tell anyone about my pink butterfly tattoo.”
“Deal,” I say, smirking at the memory of the tattoo.
She kisses the spot in between my shoulder blades, smiling some against the skin.
“What are you cooking me for breakfast?” She muses.
“Considering we have cold pizza and mustard in the fridge, I figured I’d take you out.”
“Mm, we can’t go out in public. Too many hickies.”
I laugh, finally starting to wind down. “Way to be fourteen, Arizona.”
“I was not giving girls hickies at fourteen, Callie. Try fifteen.”
“Playa.”
She laughs again, and I can tell she’s sleepy too.
“Arizona?” I say, feeling her tighten her hold on me a bit.
“Yeah?”
“Confession,” I smile, glad I’m turned away from her so she can’t see my blush through the darkened bedroom. “I could really get used to this.”
Sighing happily, Arizona kisses the back of my head, “Me, too.”