What begins as a routine study session ends in something far more heated.
Academy senior, Amber has had a crush on her best friend, Liz for as long as she can remember. She never dreamed that Liz may feel the same… And then some.
A 3000-word short featuring surprise kisses up top, not-so-surprise kisses down below, and a handy appreciation of puns.
Amber met Liz when Liz’s Barbie got sucked down a storm drain during a game of Gnarly Water Rapids and she’d lost her glasses trying to retrieve it. Amber had never seen anyone ugly cry so hard. She’d also never been yelled at so much after the teacher found her ass-up, dangling halfway down the drain with a manky Barbie clutched in one outstretched hand and fairy pink glasses in the other.
It’d been worth it though. It’d got her Liz.
Liz, who gave her next Barbie superpowers and named it after Amber. Liz, who tripped Meghan Hofstadter when Meghan called Amber a swamp rat after a particularly muddy game of tag. Liz, who grew up beautiful: dark eyes, darker skin, and gentle hands — hands that tugged Amber through thrift stores and Sunday markets, that flew whenever she recounted a story that she knew would make Amber laugh. Hands that Amber got to hold, but not quite like she wanted to. Not softly. Not pressed palm to palm. Not guiding down to-
“You’re daydreaming again.”
Amber’s silently amazed she doesn’t bite her pen in half as she wrenches her eyes away from where Liz’s hands are smoothing over the pages of her chemistry book. The one that’s open in her lap. Because they’re studying.
“Sorry,” Amber says, blinking down at her own textbook and forcing her eyes to focus. Substrates. Great. Excellent. Amber has no freaking clue what those are. She groans. “I’m so gonna fail.”
Liz throws a Post-it note at her. “Lies,” she says, shifting cross-legged.
The movement makes the bed bounce in a way that might have resulted in a mess of notepaper if Liz weren’t chronically addicted to paperclips. The elegant staple, she calls them. Because Liz is weird. Amber watches Liz’s hands, straightening the sorted pile of notes before forcefully yanking her eyes back to her textbook.
Because intense stationary proclivities aside, Liz is also the only thing Amber has standing between herself and a failing grade in Chemistry. If she wants to convince her parents to give her a gap year after graduation, she needs this. This, or a miracle.
“I still don’t know why you waited so long to ask me for help,” Liz says in the self-assured tone of one who has her valedictorian speech already memorised. Amber knows she’s supposed to find it annoying — everyone else seems to — but she likes the thing that Liz’s lips do when she’s being a nerd.
Amber sighs, slouching over her textbook, trying to pretend she’s not hiding behind her hair. “I didn’t want to trouble you.”
“You live to trouble me,” Liz says and punctuates it by obnoxiously blowing at Amber’s fringe. Her breath is warm on Amber’s face which is just all kinds of unfair really. Just like the flush she
can feel sending her neck hot and splotchy. God. God.
“Hey,” Liz says, voice gone soft. Amber closes her eyes against it, everything suddenly too much. Something in her chest clenches as she feels Liz lean in. “You know this isn’t actually any trouble, right?” Liz says, the mattress dipping as she shuffles closer because Amber is being a moron. “You’re never trouble.”
Amber pinches her own wrist — reminds herself to be a normal human being for God’s sake — and musters a smirk as she opens her eyes. “Right.”
This close, Amber can see the way that Liz’s smile starts in her eyes, the way she bites at her bottom lip as the corner of her mouth ticks up. “Well, you’re my kind of trouble.”
The air does something uncalled for in Amber’s lungs, which is what she’s going to blame in the end. A chest infection or something. Anything to explain the way she leans in, like it’s the simplest thing in the world, like pressing her lips to Liz’s isn’t the end of it.
She startles back when she realises what she’s done. What she’s doing. Because shit. Shit. Amber’s stomach does something complicated involving gravity as Liz raises her fingers to her
own lips, prodding them as if making sure they’re still attached. “You kissed me,” Liz says, like she’s testing the words out.
Amber swallows around what feels like a small, arid country wedged in her throat. “Um.”
Liz’s hand drops away, large eyes blinking behind her ridiculous, thick-framed glasses. She’s been trying to convince her mom to get her new ones for months. They’re too big, she says. No one’s going to take her seriously with glasses that look like something Clark Kent would wear.
Amber can’t take herself seriously whenever she’s forced to look away from the curl of Liz’s fingers as Liz fusses with the freaking things.
Liz licks her lips and Amber tries not to follow the motion. She fails. Abysmally. “Why did you-“
“It’s not my fault,” Amber says urgently.
Liz blinks again and Amber contemplates the logistics of throwing herself out the bedroom window. She’d probably survive the two-floor drop. And she could hitchhike out of town pretty easily.
Amber slams her Chemistry textbook shut and huffs. “I mean-“ She stops, fists her hands in her fringe and tries to disappear. “I don’t know what I mean.”
She hears Liz’s sigh and the shuffle of books and papers being moved aside. Then there are soft hands wrapping around her wrists. Amber lets Liz pry her hands away from her face, but she keeps her eyes squeezed shut. Because she’s an adult.
Liz breathes a short laugh. “You’re being a goob.”
Amber opens her mouth to protest, which makes for a really awkward failure of a kiss. Which happens. Because Liz has leaned right on in to kiss Amber. On the mouth. With her mouth.
Amber’s eyes fly open and she gapes through her fingers as Liz leans back laughing. Her nose is doing the crinkly thing that makes Amber want to count the lines.
“Try that again?” Liz says, tipping her head so that her hair falls over her shoulder. It’s particularly frizzy today. There’d been rain. Oh god, she’s thinking about the weather, what is wrong with her?
Amber wrenches back to herself and nods — can only nod — as Liz leans in, hand coming up to press lightly at Amber’s jaw, ticking her head just so as-
This time is much better. There’s none of the sheer, stark terror of the first kiss and their mouths actually find each other as opposed to the second. Their mouths find each other really, really well, actually.
Liz makes a small noise, almost a hum, and Amber can’t help but press further into the kiss, parting her lips to lick a stripe across Liz’s bottom lip. And wow, okay – that wasn’t a hum. Neither is the strangled thing that’s torn out of Amber’s throat when Liz gets a hand in her hair and tugs, licking deep around Amber’s moan and- shit. Shit.
“Jesus fuck,” Liz gasps, and something swoops low in Amber’s gut because Liz never swears. Amber didn’t even know Liz could swear. Only now she is and… Amber did that. Amber really wants to do it again. She skirts a hand up the back of Liz’s shirt and tries not to lose her mind.
“I don’t know if-“ Liz leans in again, chases Amber’s lips. “Can we just-“ Another kiss that quickly turns open-mouthed and filthy, and Amber groans as Liz crowds her back into the headboard, crawling forward into her lap. Liz rolls her hips and it’s oh- this, just like this: Liz’s weight pressing into her, mouth open and desperate against her own. Amber’s hands clutch at Liz’s legs, sliding shakily up under the material of her skirt, and Liz shivers against her.
“Please,” Liz says, breath across Amber’s lips. “Please touch- just-”
Amber catches Liz’s mouth again, tracing her hands up over the curve of Liz’s hips, the hot crease of her thigh where soft skin gives way to light cotton. She’s hot; Amber can feel her from here. Hot and damp and when Amber edges her fingers down to where Liz is soaking through her panties, it earns her a sharp shudder and a sharper moan.
Amber doesn’t think, just bucks up and forward, tipping Liz back into the pillows at the foot of the bed with a surprised huff. Their textbooks tip off the edge of the mattress and Liz’s paper-clipped notes are totally a goner but Amber can’t find it in herself to care. Not when Liz is lifting her hips, helping Amber wiggle her panties down and off.
“Oh god, c’mon-“
“Don’t be bossy,” Amber says, heart thundering as she dares to yank Liz back down the bed by the backs of her knees, legs spreading easily under her hands and oh, she’s beautiful.
“Take my skirt off,” Liz says urgently, fumbling at the zip. “I want to see.”
Amber snags Liz’s shaking fingers, pulling them up to press a sucking kiss to Liz’s thumb as she makes quick work of the skirt. How her own hands aren’t registering on the Richter scale right now, she doesn’t know. Particularly with the way Liz’s eyes darken, mouth parting around a sigh as Amber bites lightly at the meat of her palm.
Four years she’s been wanting this, pretty much since she knew this was a thing to want. Liz sighing under her, that expression right there on her face because Amber put it there. Everything’s just-
“C’mere,” Liz says, drawing her down into a kiss, hands still shaking but sure as they tangle in Amber’s loose hair. Liz holds her steady, just like she always has, ever since she’d wound herself around Amber’s feet and braced them both against the metal drain grill.
Liz snakes one hand up the back of Amber’s tank top, pulling the material with her until Amber has to break the kiss to allow her to pull it off.
“Agh, your boobs,” Liz groans, cupping them through the lace of Amber’s bra, and Amber can’t help but laugh. She’s heard the words before — Amber had been the first to hit what Liz called the ‘boob awakening’ at age thirteen — but never like this. Never like Liz is one word away from writing Amber’s cleavage sonnets.
“You-“ Amber gasps as Liz’s thumbs brush over her nipples. Oh-kay. “I didn’t realise-“
That you liked me? That you wanted me? Anything apparently?
“Goob,” Liz says, like that’s the novel of an explanation Amber’s after. Then she leans up and licks at Amber’s right nipple, and Amber shivers so hard her arms nearly buckle.
Liz groans, like she’s the one being pulled apart. “Oh, take it off,” she orders, yanking her own shirt up. “I want to rub my boobs on your boobs.”
“You are such a nerd,” Amber says, reaching around to snap the clasp on her own bra open. It’s loud and very real.
Liz arches up under her. “That’s why you love me.” Yeah, it is.
Amber ducks down before her face can give her away, brushing the loose cups of Liz’s bra aside so she can latch onto Liz’s nipple and suck. Liz swears, fingers scrabbling into Amber’s hair like she needs to hold onto something or she’s going to fly away. As if Amber would let her.
“Check,” Liz says. “Really sensitive nipples.”
Amber pulls off, breathing deliberately over the wet skin to watch Liz shiver. “Are you taking notes?”
“Science is life,” Liz says, tipping into a whine when Amber trails a hand up the inside of her thigh. “Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck -“
“Language,” Amber says, delighted as she traces her fingers up the crease of Liz’s thigh. Liz shakes her head, though she looks like she’s coming apart a little as she does it. “Nope,”
she says shakily, hips twitching under Amber’s touch. “Sex means full amnesty. I’m gonna- oh.” Amber leans down, shifting her palm to press between Liz’s legs proper. It’s hot and wet and
everything. “One day you’re gonna get into trouble,” she says, and crooks her fingers. Liz bucks against her. “Oh god, Amber, please-“
She’s soft and sort of perfect here, all slick folds and beautiful heat. A nub at the top has Liz biting off a yell and digging her nails into Amber’s shoulders and god, Amber hopes the scratches stay. That she’ll be able to press at them later in the shower and know.
The bed creaks like it’s going to collapse when Amber all but throws herself down the spread of Liz’s body, but short of an environmental disaster, Amber doesn’t think that she could care about anything but getting her mouth on Liz. Which she does. And it’s…sort of mind-meltingly amazing.
Liz cries out and scrabbles at the bedspread as Amber mouths at her clit before licking down, hot and deep and oh God, Amber’s fairly certain no one’s supposed to taste this good.
“You’re gonna- I can’t-“
Amber can’t help her groan, pressing her hands under Liz’s ass to shift angles, something primal uncurling in satisfaction at the feel of Liz’s legs hooking over her shoulders.
She’s never done this before; really has no idea if she’s doing things right or well but screw it. Amber’s never been good with books, but hands-on she can do. And this is all kinds of hands-on. She punctuates the thought by hooking one arm around Liz’s hip, pressing her down as she flattens her tongue and licks Liz from the core of her where she’s wettest back up to her clit. Liz shudders like she’s coming apart, hips rolling under Amber’s hold, trying to fuck her mouth and it’s without a doubt the hottest thing that’s ever happened to her.
Amber settles into the sensation, uses one hand to part Liz’s folds properly so she can find her clit, making sure to lave across it special on every few upstrokes. Everything goes hot and messy, and the feel of wet slicking her chin should be gross but it’s just sort of perfect instead. Amber can’t help but groan as she grinds down against the mattress, Liz’s voice gone breathy above her.
When Liz comes, it’s a revelation. She’d been edging ever closer, hips rolling in a shortening rhythm, so when Amber pauses to lick deeper — press in where everything’s soft and hot — she doesn’t expect it to end with Liz scrabbling at her shoulder, an aborted warning before she
cuts off into a yell, hips bucking sharply off the bed. In the end, Amber’s forced to curl her hands around Liz’s hips and hold her down as Liz comes, hot and wet and everywhere. Amber licks her through it, tasting her aftershocks and falling mindlessly in love with the entire experience.
After a minute, Liz makes a broken whine of a sound, petting at Amber’s face until she pulls away to press a kiss to Liz’s palm. Liz’s hand curls around Amber’s jaw and pulls, guiding Amber up until she’s close enough to pull into a messy, sated kiss.
“Holy God,” Liz breathes against her mouth. “I think you killed me.” Hell yes, she did. Amber grins. “You’re a very loud corpse.”
“And you’re wearing too many clothes,” Liz says, then pauses. “That was probably not the best segue.”
Amber laughs, skin hot and oversensitive where Liz’s touch slips up under her skirt. She’s so wet she’s almost throbbing with it – could probably lose herself with just Liz’s fingers pressing-
“Off, please,” Liz says, somehow gone polite in her come down because of course she has. “I want to touch you.”
It takes some fumbling but finally, they’re naked together, skin contrasting starkly as Amber lets herself be shuffled up to straddle Liz’s legs. She’s trailing slick which should probably be weird but Liz doesn’t seem to mind if the way she presses one thigh up between Amber’s legs is any indication.
Amber gasps, falling forward onto her hands as she grinds down. Oh, just the pressure is- it could be-
“You look amazing,” Liz says and Amber can’t help but whine as she’s drawn into a kiss, Liz’s thigh rocking up against the heat of her until-
“Jesus Christ,” she swears, shuddering down onto her elbows as Liz crooks the fingers inside her.
Liz smiles and nips at her bottom lip. “Language.”
To hell with language. To hell with everything, because Liz has got two fingers inside her, curled mercilessly against Amber’s g-spot and she’s not- she can’t-
“Another- Please, I can’t-“
A third finger slides in easy and Amber moans, loud and obvious even to her own ears as Liz starts up a rhythm that’s going to shake her to pieces.
“I knew that game of truth or dare would come in handy,” Liz says and Amber would laugh at the memory but she can’t focus enough, can’t do much of anything other than press her hips forward.
“Handy,” Liz says again, tone gone wicked and fingers even more so. “Get it?”
Amber will never know if it’s the last pointed crook of Liz’s fingers inside of her or her shocky laugh that sends her over the edge. Either way, it’s enough; worked up as she is, Amber arches with it, crying out as her orgasm lights up her spine, forcing tears out of the corner of her eyes.
For one blinding moment she’s floating. Then there’s a whole lot of collapsing. Collapsing, and warm touches: kisses being pressed to her temple as gentle fingers card through her hair. It’s the best she’s ever felt.
When Liz shifts a few minutes later, Amber rolls to the side, stomach swooping when Liz’s arm around her back doesn’t let her get too far. She thrills ridiculously as she tangles their legs together, tucking her head up under Liz’s chin.
“So,” Liz says eventually. “That happened.”
There’s no inflection, nothing to indicate good or bad but Amber can’t help but tense up anyway. “Yes.”
Liz hums, smoothing her hand down Amber’s spine like she’s calming a spooked horse. Amber would grumble but it does do the trick; she melts back into Liz’s side.
“What do you think the academy’s stance on same-sex relationships is?” Liz says, jokingly. Amber’s heart jolts because she didn’t-
“Oh my God,” Liz says, scooting down the bed so she can cup Amber’s face in both hands. “Don’t freak out.”
“Do you regret this?” Liz interrupts.
It’s not even a question. “No.”
Liz beams. There’s no other word for the expression. Her thumb swipes over Amber’s cheek and Amber could die from it. “Then nothing else matters, yeah?”
Amber’s own smile is slow to catch, but it burns hard and real. “Yeah,” she says.
Liz leans in for a kiss and- God, Amber never wants it to end. Wants to spend the rest of forever sharing breath and tasting like sex…
“Does this mean chemistry doesn’t matter either?” Amber says, hopefully. “No,” Liz says. “I made flashcards.”
“Handy,” Amber says and laughs until Liz tackles her into the pillows.
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Happy fapping, folks!