(no subject)
Title: Never Enough Heroin
Pairing: Mimi/Sara
Rating: R
Disclaimer: CSI and RENT are not mine.
Mimi always remembered the women. They were scarcer than the male customers, had more respect for her profession and always paid better.
They were better in bed, too.
Not that Mimi slept with many of her customers.
Only two and a half, in fact.
Two weeks after she started dancing, she gave an older man a blow job in the parking lot. He paid horribly, but her power had been off for six days.
Ten months later, she had slept with a boy with pretty brown eyes and soft curls. He had offered to pay, but she had turned him down up front. When he passed out after having sex, she filched twenty bucks and bought not enough heroin.
The truth was she never had enough heroin.
Especially the night she met Sara. If she had had a fix that night, she would never have sat down next to the dark-haired woman staring longingly at her, never shamelessly asked for a drink, never went back to that cheap hotel with her.
But she did.
And Mimi and Sara fucked in the hotel room for hours. They spoke, but never talked; never exchanged more than names, never did anything except moan and suck and thrust and fuck.
Sara returned to Las Vegas the next day, leaving nothing behind except a few twenties.
And for a few months, Mimi was convinced it was true that women were better.
Until she met Roger.
Until she fell in love.
Pairing: Mimi/Sara
Rating: R
Disclaimer: CSI and RENT are not mine.
Mimi always remembered the women. They were scarcer than the male customers, had more respect for her profession and always paid better.
They were better in bed, too.
Not that Mimi slept with many of her customers.
Only two and a half, in fact.
Two weeks after she started dancing, she gave an older man a blow job in the parking lot. He paid horribly, but her power had been off for six days.
Ten months later, she had slept with a boy with pretty brown eyes and soft curls. He had offered to pay, but she had turned him down up front. When he passed out after having sex, she filched twenty bucks and bought not enough heroin.
The truth was she never had enough heroin.
Especially the night she met Sara. If she had had a fix that night, she would never have sat down next to the dark-haired woman staring longingly at her, never shamelessly asked for a drink, never went back to that cheap hotel with her.
But she did.
And Mimi and Sara fucked in the hotel room for hours. They spoke, but never talked; never exchanged more than names, never did anything except moan and suck and thrust and fuck.
Sara returned to Las Vegas the next day, leaving nothing behind except a few twenties.
And for a few months, Mimi was convinced it was true that women were better.
Until she met Roger.
Until she fell in love.