Careful Confessions (1B/2)
Title: Careful Confessions
Rating: R
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 my wife, Clanket for lending me some inspiration and helping me map out these ideas. You’re the best walrusry wife I could ever ask for, love!
A/NII: I know very little about basketball and even less about basketball of the late 90’s, so please use your imaginations.
A/NIII: LJ's word limit turned this into at least three separate posts. Sorry! Part ONE-A is HERE
Almost triumphantly, Arizona smiles, “She’s nothing to worry about.”
The game’s back on, I can hear sporadic bursts of cheering from around the bar, but all I want to focus on is this beautiful girl in front of me. We’re not even talking anymore, just looking at each other. She leans down to press a kiss against my cheek and pulls away, making me grab for her. I kiss her again, way less awkward than the last time back at my apartment. She sighs into my mouth, looping her arms around my shoulders. I used to care who saw us out, but now I don’t. I really, really don’t. I want everyone to see.
Apparently we’re like that for awhile, kissing and looking at each other. We probably look annoyingly sweet, one of those couples that make the singles scoff and the ones in “love” question if they’ve ever really been this into their significant other.
Except Arizona isn’t mine, but I refuse to think about that for the time being. Instead I focus on the way she smells and how soft she is under my hands. The grin she gives me as she dips in to teasingly press her lips against the corner of my mouth causes a nice flare up of goosebumps. I want to take her home, to do this in bed, but she gets distracted by the television for a second.
“What the... heck?” She mumbles, looking at the television.
Yep, Lakers came back! They’re on top of the game by three and at the stolen rebound, make that five.
I grin. “Regretting those shots now, Robbins?”
She glares at me playfully. “You’re unlucky! I start getting wrapped up in you and we lose!”
“Well, maybe you’re lucky to me,” I counter which makes her giggle as she sits back down in her own stool.
We actually watch the rest of the game, talking about nothing but defenses and the fact that Shaq and Kobe better never split up. Joe watches from the other side of the bar, talking to his girlfriend who’s in a matching Celtics shirt. It’s really cute.
The whole atmosphere is fun and light, and Arizona and I lazily get through that second pitcher before holding off. I hate getting too full on beer, plus the burger and fries from earlier is still sitting like a rock in my stomach.
It comes down to the last five minutes of the game. 100 to 98, Celtics. I’m biting my nails, trying to make the time go faster, but I can’t. Fitzgimmons, the Celtics three-point hero lines up for an easy basket, but misses, turning his wrist at the last second.
We got lucky. Even luckier as Seals scoops up the ball and passes it down court to Shaq who sinks an easy three. 101-100.
Fitzy gets the ball again, dribbling and making a statement as he plants his feet and sinks the three he missed earlier. Shaq and O’Leary wrestle down for the ball and the ref signals for a tip off.
I’m squirming in my seat. We’re only down by two and there’s no more than a minute left. The tip off goes off without a hitch, though, as Shaq slaps the ball right into Kobe’s capable hands. I watch as the youngster calls out a play like a professional, knowing he’ll be bringing good things to the Lakers for years to come.
He pitches it to Seals. Seals dribbles, pitches it back to Kobe who bounce passes it to Shaq who comes out of nowhere, and sinks a three just as the buzzer blows.
I erupt into cheering along with several other people in the bar. Arizona’s still watching the television, hoping for some kind of recall, maybe a foul that no one saw. When that doesn’t happen she just slumps forward into the bar.
“Oh, Joe, I need something strong,” she moans.
I’m slapping hands with the girls next to me decked out in their purple and yellow. Stoked doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. I turn back to Arizona and hold out my hand.
She takes it, and with this leverage I pull her into me again, wrapping my arms around her hips. She sighs and accepts the margarita on the rocks from Joe, taking a sip.
“Good game,” I smile up at her, watching her brows crinkle in defeat.
“Mm, I guess,” She whines, pretending she doesn’t like where I have her.
“Now only to make good on your promise,” I murmur.
She sips a little more from her drink. I can smell the tequila and sours on her breath and I lean forward to place a tender kiss against her lips. This is how it always is when we get a few drinks in us though, the kiss in my living room being completely out of the blue. I applaud myself for my forwardness then, and wish I always had it like I have it now with Arizona. Boys were different.
“Fine,” She huffs, rolling her eyes at me.
“So, I’ll help you out. Where would we be?”
She thinks for a moment, taking another long swig of her beverage. She’s going to be so wasted. Joe’s margaritas are amazing, if not excessively strong.
“We’re in your bed, and I’m on the left right side ‘cause it’s comfier than the other side, I know because I’ve slept on both. And you have the black sheets on the bed, the Egyptian cotton ones. And we’re really warm.”
The image seems great, especially since it’s been so chilly lately that it’s almost unbearable at night. The wet kind of cold that sunk into your bones. I hate it, but sometimes Arizona sleeps over and tipsily asks me to spoon her. I am more than okay with this, always.
“okay, so, then what happens? Are we naked? Are we drunk? What happens?” I press, watching her blush.
Taking a deep breath, the blowing it out, she nods, as if giving herself some “Okay, so, your hand is rubbing against my side and I’m kinda giggling a little, quietly. Your fingertips sneak underneath my tank top, just against my hip, stroking the skin there, telling me how soft I feel, right in my ear.”
My fingertips sneak underneath her cardigan and the little camisole underneath, thumbs dragging along the softness of her hips, “You are soft.”
She shivers and slides her arms around my shoulders, “Mm, okay. So you keep doing that, pushing the envelope a little...your hands sneaking further up my shirt, to my breasts, kinda teasing a little, not really touching anything but the undersides of them, then coming back down across my stomach and my hips again. But I’m getting squirmy. I give you a playfully stern, ‘Callie’ and you give me a ‘What?’ equally as playfully, but faux-innocent.”
Who knew Arizona had this in her? This sexiness. And she was creative to boot. It was just flowing off of her tongue, like she’d thought about it before.
“Go on?”
She shifts and leans in, to whisper the next part into my ear. She’s getting uncomfortable when I look in her eyes, and I know this is already on the spot enough for her. I thought this would be a quick sentence or two, involving us in sexy lingerie or something, but this is much better.
“Okay,” she begins. “I tell you you better stop that or else I won’t be able to hold back and you do stop, giggling, apologizing. You start kissing the back of my neck. Then I realize your game and realize that I don’t really want you to stop, so I start pushing into your hips with my ass, loving the way you get a little short of breath when it makes you gasp... like that one time, you remember?”
My mind shifts back to the time we got a little hot and heavy after a night out, how she slipped a thigh between mine and pushed up into me, making me gasp like that.
“Yeah,” I manage, eyes lidding.
Arizona strokes her fingers through my hair, still talking into my ear, making me shiver. I love whispers, she knows this. “Your hands start roaming again, making me have to bite my lip because I’m turned on, with your mouth on my neck and your hands against my skin... it’s hard not to be. You roll that tanktop up as far as it’ll go, well, no, maybe just under my breasts. At this point, I have to turn in your arms. Instead of saying anything I just kiss you. ‘Cause, I love to kiss you.”
I tense, pulling her closer, shivering some. The tone of her voice mingled with how close she is and that smell of soap and mint is making me want to shed the clothes and get started on this sexy fantasy.
“You okay?” She asks, nipping on my earlobe. It’s not really visible to the rest of the bar because she’s subtle about it, but I know what she just did.
I gasp. “Y-yeah. Keep going.”
She lets off a breathy giggle, sliding a hand to caress the other side of my neck, “So my hands start to wander across your body, down along the curve of your hip, up to your chest, across your collarbones. I’ve wanted to touch you for awhile so it’s nice to just get a feel for you. But my hands start to wander a little further downward, back across your hips, then under those skimpy little shorts you wear to bed, toying with the leg of your underwear.”
I can’t make words come out, so instead I just giggle nervously.
“I run my fingertip around it, kind of testing the waters, wondering if you’ll tell me to stop. When I look at you and you aren’t saying to stop, I keep going, moving my hand out of your shorts, then up to the waistband of them, teasing a finger underneath, but just doing that-- teasing. So you ask me what I think I’m doing, but it’s playful and I shrug and it’s almost shy and almost not and you pull me against you for another kiss. And since your mouth’s occupied, I slip a hand in between your thighs, through the shorts, pushing against you. It’s too much now, I just kinda wanna feel you.”
“Feel me?” I manage, though my mouth has gone dry.
“Yes, Callie. Feel you,” She murmurs against my ear before pulling back to look me in the eye, “So then I slip a hand under the shorts, but just the shorts. All that warmth and softness. Mm. I flatten my hand against you, rubbing you through your underwear. But then I stop and we look at each other again and I can’t stop staring at your gorgeous mouth and so I nibble your lower lip a little, hand starting up again, just teasing you through your underwear. I keep going like this ‘til you’re buried against my neck, biting a little, licking some.”
“Fuck,” I murmur, “You’re really good at this storytelling.”
“I thought about it through the whole game,” she admits, wetting her lips as her fingers come to rest on the tops of my thighs.
At her touch, I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin and I gasp again, startled by my own knee-jerk reaction. “Keep going?”
“I slide my hand up further, making sure it’s okay for me to slip inside of your underwear. And when I get the permission, I do. Middle finger feeling you out a little, extremely turned on by how wet you are from just that playful little tease. You let off this really sexy sigh, like you’ve just been waiting for the relief. So I just whisper about how sexy it is that you really are this wet for me, sliding a finger inside, kissing you again. But when I’d originally just planned to tease you, I didn’t bank on touching you, but now that I am, it’s really sexy. And I want you.”
I’m too turned on to say anything, but I can feel that familiar thudding between my thighs. It happens a lot when I’m with her, but especially now when she’s talking about touching me like...that.
“And then, I slide another finger inside of you--”
“Arizona,” I warn, panting a little. “If we leave now, I’ll let you kiss me wherever you want.”
When her big blue eyes get even wider she raises a finger, “Heya, Joe, we’ll take the tab.”
When it comes, I playfully fight her for it, taking the tab from her hands and putting out enough cash on the bar for Joe to have a nice tip, since his Celts lost and all. Arizona’s watching me like I’m going to disappear, but I’m right there. I have no intentions of leaving without her.
Rating: R
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 my wife, Clanket for lending me some inspiration and helping me map out these ideas. You’re the best walrusry wife I could ever ask for, love!
A/NII: I know very little about basketball and even less about basketball of the late 90’s, so please use your imaginations.
A/NIII: LJ's word limit turned this into at least three separate posts. Sorry! Part ONE-A is HERE
Almost triumphantly, Arizona smiles, “She’s nothing to worry about.”
The game’s back on, I can hear sporadic bursts of cheering from around the bar, but all I want to focus on is this beautiful girl in front of me. We’re not even talking anymore, just looking at each other. She leans down to press a kiss against my cheek and pulls away, making me grab for her. I kiss her again, way less awkward than the last time back at my apartment. She sighs into my mouth, looping her arms around my shoulders. I used to care who saw us out, but now I don’t. I really, really don’t. I want everyone to see.
Apparently we’re like that for awhile, kissing and looking at each other. We probably look annoyingly sweet, one of those couples that make the singles scoff and the ones in “love” question if they’ve ever really been this into their significant other.
Except Arizona isn’t mine, but I refuse to think about that for the time being. Instead I focus on the way she smells and how soft she is under my hands. The grin she gives me as she dips in to teasingly press her lips against the corner of my mouth causes a nice flare up of goosebumps. I want to take her home, to do this in bed, but she gets distracted by the television for a second.
“What the... heck?” She mumbles, looking at the television.
Yep, Lakers came back! They’re on top of the game by three and at the stolen rebound, make that five.
I grin. “Regretting those shots now, Robbins?”
She glares at me playfully. “You’re unlucky! I start getting wrapped up in you and we lose!”
“Well, maybe you’re lucky to me,” I counter which makes her giggle as she sits back down in her own stool.
We actually watch the rest of the game, talking about nothing but defenses and the fact that Shaq and Kobe better never split up. Joe watches from the other side of the bar, talking to his girlfriend who’s in a matching Celtics shirt. It’s really cute.
The whole atmosphere is fun and light, and Arizona and I lazily get through that second pitcher before holding off. I hate getting too full on beer, plus the burger and fries from earlier is still sitting like a rock in my stomach.
It comes down to the last five minutes of the game. 100 to 98, Celtics. I’m biting my nails, trying to make the time go faster, but I can’t. Fitzgimmons, the Celtics three-point hero lines up for an easy basket, but misses, turning his wrist at the last second.
We got lucky. Even luckier as Seals scoops up the ball and passes it down court to Shaq who sinks an easy three. 101-100.
Fitzy gets the ball again, dribbling and making a statement as he plants his feet and sinks the three he missed earlier. Shaq and O’Leary wrestle down for the ball and the ref signals for a tip off.
I’m squirming in my seat. We’re only down by two and there’s no more than a minute left. The tip off goes off without a hitch, though, as Shaq slaps the ball right into Kobe’s capable hands. I watch as the youngster calls out a play like a professional, knowing he’ll be bringing good things to the Lakers for years to come.
He pitches it to Seals. Seals dribbles, pitches it back to Kobe who bounce passes it to Shaq who comes out of nowhere, and sinks a three just as the buzzer blows.
I erupt into cheering along with several other people in the bar. Arizona’s still watching the television, hoping for some kind of recall, maybe a foul that no one saw. When that doesn’t happen she just slumps forward into the bar.
“Oh, Joe, I need something strong,” she moans.
I’m slapping hands with the girls next to me decked out in their purple and yellow. Stoked doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. I turn back to Arizona and hold out my hand.
She takes it, and with this leverage I pull her into me again, wrapping my arms around her hips. She sighs and accepts the margarita on the rocks from Joe, taking a sip.
“Good game,” I smile up at her, watching her brows crinkle in defeat.
“Mm, I guess,” She whines, pretending she doesn’t like where I have her.
“Now only to make good on your promise,” I murmur.
She sips a little more from her drink. I can smell the tequila and sours on her breath and I lean forward to place a tender kiss against her lips. This is how it always is when we get a few drinks in us though, the kiss in my living room being completely out of the blue. I applaud myself for my forwardness then, and wish I always had it like I have it now with Arizona. Boys were different.
“Fine,” She huffs, rolling her eyes at me.
“So, I’ll help you out. Where would we be?”
She thinks for a moment, taking another long swig of her beverage. She’s going to be so wasted. Joe’s margaritas are amazing, if not excessively strong.
“We’re in your bed, and I’m on the left right side ‘cause it’s comfier than the other side, I know because I’ve slept on both. And you have the black sheets on the bed, the Egyptian cotton ones. And we’re really warm.”
The image seems great, especially since it’s been so chilly lately that it’s almost unbearable at night. The wet kind of cold that sunk into your bones. I hate it, but sometimes Arizona sleeps over and tipsily asks me to spoon her. I am more than okay with this, always.
“okay, so, then what happens? Are we naked? Are we drunk? What happens?” I press, watching her blush.
Taking a deep breath, the blowing it out, she nods, as if giving herself some “Okay, so, your hand is rubbing against my side and I’m kinda giggling a little, quietly. Your fingertips sneak underneath my tank top, just against my hip, stroking the skin there, telling me how soft I feel, right in my ear.”
My fingertips sneak underneath her cardigan and the little camisole underneath, thumbs dragging along the softness of her hips, “You are soft.”
She shivers and slides her arms around my shoulders, “Mm, okay. So you keep doing that, pushing the envelope a little...your hands sneaking further up my shirt, to my breasts, kinda teasing a little, not really touching anything but the undersides of them, then coming back down across my stomach and my hips again. But I’m getting squirmy. I give you a playfully stern, ‘Callie’ and you give me a ‘What?’ equally as playfully, but faux-innocent.”
Who knew Arizona had this in her? This sexiness. And she was creative to boot. It was just flowing off of her tongue, like she’d thought about it before.
“Go on?”
She shifts and leans in, to whisper the next part into my ear. She’s getting uncomfortable when I look in her eyes, and I know this is already on the spot enough for her. I thought this would be a quick sentence or two, involving us in sexy lingerie or something, but this is much better.
“Okay,” she begins. “I tell you you better stop that or else I won’t be able to hold back and you do stop, giggling, apologizing. You start kissing the back of my neck. Then I realize your game and realize that I don’t really want you to stop, so I start pushing into your hips with my ass, loving the way you get a little short of breath when it makes you gasp... like that one time, you remember?”
My mind shifts back to the time we got a little hot and heavy after a night out, how she slipped a thigh between mine and pushed up into me, making me gasp like that.
“Yeah,” I manage, eyes lidding.
Arizona strokes her fingers through my hair, still talking into my ear, making me shiver. I love whispers, she knows this. “Your hands start roaming again, making me have to bite my lip because I’m turned on, with your mouth on my neck and your hands against my skin... it’s hard not to be. You roll that tanktop up as far as it’ll go, well, no, maybe just under my breasts. At this point, I have to turn in your arms. Instead of saying anything I just kiss you. ‘Cause, I love to kiss you.”
I tense, pulling her closer, shivering some. The tone of her voice mingled with how close she is and that smell of soap and mint is making me want to shed the clothes and get started on this sexy fantasy.
“You okay?” She asks, nipping on my earlobe. It’s not really visible to the rest of the bar because she’s subtle about it, but I know what she just did.
I gasp. “Y-yeah. Keep going.”
She lets off a breathy giggle, sliding a hand to caress the other side of my neck, “So my hands start to wander across your body, down along the curve of your hip, up to your chest, across your collarbones. I’ve wanted to touch you for awhile so it’s nice to just get a feel for you. But my hands start to wander a little further downward, back across your hips, then under those skimpy little shorts you wear to bed, toying with the leg of your underwear.”
I can’t make words come out, so instead I just giggle nervously.
“I run my fingertip around it, kind of testing the waters, wondering if you’ll tell me to stop. When I look at you and you aren’t saying to stop, I keep going, moving my hand out of your shorts, then up to the waistband of them, teasing a finger underneath, but just doing that-- teasing. So you ask me what I think I’m doing, but it’s playful and I shrug and it’s almost shy and almost not and you pull me against you for another kiss. And since your mouth’s occupied, I slip a hand in between your thighs, through the shorts, pushing against you. It’s too much now, I just kinda wanna feel you.”
“Feel me?” I manage, though my mouth has gone dry.
“Yes, Callie. Feel you,” She murmurs against my ear before pulling back to look me in the eye, “So then I slip a hand under the shorts, but just the shorts. All that warmth and softness. Mm. I flatten my hand against you, rubbing you through your underwear. But then I stop and we look at each other again and I can’t stop staring at your gorgeous mouth and so I nibble your lower lip a little, hand starting up again, just teasing you through your underwear. I keep going like this ‘til you’re buried against my neck, biting a little, licking some.”
“Fuck,” I murmur, “You’re really good at this storytelling.”
“I thought about it through the whole game,” she admits, wetting her lips as her fingers come to rest on the tops of my thighs.
At her touch, I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin and I gasp again, startled by my own knee-jerk reaction. “Keep going?”
“I slide my hand up further, making sure it’s okay for me to slip inside of your underwear. And when I get the permission, I do. Middle finger feeling you out a little, extremely turned on by how wet you are from just that playful little tease. You let off this really sexy sigh, like you’ve just been waiting for the relief. So I just whisper about how sexy it is that you really are this wet for me, sliding a finger inside, kissing you again. But when I’d originally just planned to tease you, I didn’t bank on touching you, but now that I am, it’s really sexy. And I want you.”
I’m too turned on to say anything, but I can feel that familiar thudding between my thighs. It happens a lot when I’m with her, but especially now when she’s talking about touching me like...that.
“And then, I slide another finger inside of you--”
“Arizona,” I warn, panting a little. “If we leave now, I’ll let you kiss me wherever you want.”
When her big blue eyes get even wider she raises a finger, “Heya, Joe, we’ll take the tab.”
When it comes, I playfully fight her for it, taking the tab from her hands and putting out enough cash on the bar for Joe to have a nice tip, since his Celts lost and all. Arizona’s watching me like I’m going to disappear, but I’m right there. I have no intentions of leaving without her.