The dawn is just beginning to break when Nyssa steps out of the bathroom, and Laurel watches as she stops for a moment to watch the silver threads of light appear in the sky through the window. Outside, the adhaan begins, sounding almost musical as it rouses worshippers in the early morning. Laurel's not used to it, even after having served in Beirut, but she decides she likes it. She's always been an early riser anyway, and there's something about the way Nyssa sighs contentedly, pulling Laurel's kimono more firmly around her, that tugs unexpectedly at Laurel's heartstrings.
"I did not realise you were awake," Nyssa says, pulling Laurel out of her reverie. Laurel shakes her head, lying back on the pillows.
"'S'okay. I try not to sleep for longer than four hours a night anyway." The song of prayer continues, and Laurel watches as Nyssa approaches the bed. She seems to be hesitating for some reason, though, and Laurel laughs. "What?"
Nyssa smiles slightly. "It is nothing. I - was just remembering the first time I met you."
"You mean when you tied me to a bed," Laurel says flatly, but there's still a weird kind of warmth to her voice, especially with what she says next. "I bet you enjoyed that."
"Laurel -"
But Laurel just smirks. "I did."
And maybe Nyssa's just not used to outright flirtation, even after they've slept together, because she just looks uncertain and remains on her feet, for some reason not returning to the bed. Laurel pats the space next to her, and to her surprise, Nyssa takes that as her cue to tentatively sit down.
"Really?" she says at last, not quite facing her.
"Do you guys have, like, a file on me, in the League of Shadows?" Laurel asks. Nyssa nods.
"Of course. We have an entire dossier on the Birds of Prey division."
"Well, one of the things you probably don't have on your dossier is… I kind of enjoy that sort of thing."
Nyssa just looks nonplussed as she lies back down, getting comfortable under the covers. "Why?"
"Don't get me wrong, it's kind of different when I don't trust the person. Like with you when we first met. But that doesn't mean I don't get off on it all the same. The - danger of it. But..." But then she trails off, realising the sheets have slipped, exposing her naked upper body, and she hastily pulls them back up to cover herself.
Unexpectedly she feels Nyssa's hand go up to her hair, playing with a few strands of it.
"But what?"
Laurel meets Nyssa's eyes, then, and considers for the longest of moments before saying, "But if it's someone I trust, I can just… let go. My whole life, it's been so important for me to have control of things. It's been so important for me to take care of people. Everyone." She thinks of Ollie, her father, her mother, the people she couldn't control, for the life of her. And she thinks of Sara. God help her, she thinks of Sara. "So when someone offers to take that from me, do that for me, I just -"
And then all of a sudden she's done with words. She's never been great with them, to be fair, and now she feels like they're failing her, so she reaches forward, letting the sheet fall this time, and kisses Nyssa. It starts off soft, gentle, almost, because Laurel's thanking her, thanking her for being there, for finding her, for tying her to that bed, for kissing her - but then she lets her teeth sink into Nyssa's bottom lip and Laurel feels the hum of her moan in the back of her throat and taste the hunger as Nyssa buries her tongue in Laurel's mouth.
When, finally, they come up for air, though, Nyssa's the one who's gasping.
"Do you get that?" Laurel asks breathlessly. "What I mean?"
"Yes," Nyssa whispers back. "And I am glad, Laurel, that you have found someone to be there for you."
Laurel frowns. "No, no," she says after a moment. "I - I said if it's someone I trust. I've never - ever - trusted someone that much before." She hesitates for a moment, takes a deep breath, and all of a sudden, as if of their own volition, her arms go up, wrists crossing each other against the bedpost. "Until now."
And suddenly Nyssa's feeling on the floor next to her for her scarves, and when she picks them up she looks at Laurel questioningly. The scarves go loosely around her wrists. "Are you sure?" Nyssa asks softly.
"Yes," Laurel replies, and she can feel her pulse begin to race in anticipation of what Nyssa will do next. Laurel waits, closes her eyes, and then she feels the scarves tighten securely around her wrists. She tries to move, but Nyssa has done her job well.
Still, she seems - not doubtful, exactly, more wary - when she meets Laurel's eyes. "Do you trust me?" Nyssa asks uncertainly.
Laurel arches her back, so the sheets fall away completely, and reaches up to kiss Nyssa in answer. Nyssa kisses her back, harder than Laurel expects, clambering on top of her so Nyssa's knees are digging into Laurel's hips.
"I trust you," Laurel breathes, right against Nyssa's mouth. That's Nyssa's cue, it seems, for her to dip her head and plant kisses down Laurel's collarbone, fingers curling around the curve of her breast. Laurel moans needingly, and seconds later Nyssa's mouth is where her fingers were, kissing the underside of her breast, tongue swirling around her breast and against her hardened nipple while her other hand is occupied between Laurel's legs. The scarves are beginning to burn her wrists now, but all that does is exhilarate her further, as Laurel's thighs clench around Nyssa's hand and Nyssa catches Laurel's nipple between her teeth. Laurel cries out, and Nyssa raises her head, lifts her face to Laurel's, kisses her.
"I will stop if you tell me to."
"Don't stop," Laurel replies instantly.
So Nyssa does it again, lets her teeth scrape against Laurel's nipple, and somehow she knows, knows how to apply just the right amount of pressure with her other hand still at work at Laurel's entrance.
And then Nyssa's kissing down Laurel's abdomen, a molten trail left in the wake of her lips, and when she reaches Laurel's navel Nyssa looks up, meets Laurel's eyes.
"Part your legs," Nyssa says, "and close your eyes." And it's not a request so much as an order, and damn if that doesn't totally do it for Laurel too. She smiles, more to herself than to Nyssa, before obediently spreading her legs and closing her eyes. She's not sure why but it seems to take forever before she feels the warm hiss of Nyssa's breath ghost her thigh. Laurel exhales sharply, letting out the breath she didn't even know she was holding, and lets out an "mmm" of pleasure as two of Nyssa's fingers enter her.
All too quickly, though, she's withdrawing her fingers, and she can smell her own scent now as Nyssa smears her essence across the inside of her thigh. Laurel's pulse quickens with anticipation, and seconds later Nyssa's licking hot wet skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her thigh, and Laurel can feel the slight roughness of Nyssa's tongue as at last it reaches her opening.
The thrum of arousal that started up between her legs increases tenfold now, and Laurel cries out when Nyssa finds her weak spot and her tongue begins to encircle it.
Laurel instinctively tries to move her hands down, so she can thread her fingers through Nyssa's hair or grab her hand, but the restraints stop her, and her arms are beginning to ache now, but Laurel doesn't care. She keeps her eyes closed, surrenders to Nyssa's every touch.
And then the flat of Nyssa's tongue is on her clitoris, and Laurel's almost at screaming point now, gasping, Nyssa's name hot on her tongue as Laurel rocks her hips against Nyssa's mouth. It seems easy for Nyssa to bear the way Laurel presses up against her, and Laurel comes with a loud cry, arching into her, and it's as she's getting her breath back that Nyssa reaches up and unties the scarves. Laurel's glad, though, because now she can cradle Nyssa's face with her hands and move her hair out of the way and kiss her. Nyssa kisses her back, and Laurel tears the kimono off Nyssa's shoulders before pulling Nyssa on top of her.
With one hand she cups Nyssa's breast, fuller, plumper than her own, and Laurel delights in the way Nyssa's nipple becomes erect at her touch. Laurel tweaks Nyssa's nipple, feeling the tug of arousal in her groin once more at Nyssa's resultant moan. Laurel pushes at Nyssa's shoulders, so Nyssa's on her back now, and Laurel ducks her head so her face is buried between Nyssa's legs.
The honeyed scent of Nyssa's arousal is so intoxicating that for a moment all Laurel can do is breathe it in, nudging her nose against the soft wetness leaking from Nyssa's centre onto her thigh. Then Laurel lets her tongue dart out, tasting her, and she lets out a soft groan at the sharp sweetness of Nyssa's folds.
Nyssa angles her hips against Laurel's mouth, and Laurel hooks her elbow around Nyssa's leg, pulling her thighs a little further apart to give her better leverage against Nyssa's centre. And then Laurel's tongue is inside her, and Nyssa gasps her name and thrusts her hips against Laurel's mouth. Laurel lets her, pulls back a bit and then goes in, slower this time, sucking on Nyssa's clitoris - swollen with desire - in the way Laurel's realised she likes.
When Nyssa comes she's quieter than Laurel, much quieter, muttering epithets in Arabic under her breath as she floats back to earth and Laurel joins her at her side. When she lifts her hand to cup Nyssa's cheek she laughs.
"What?" says Nyssa.
Laurel just smiles, then points to the marks starting to form on her wrists. "I - thank you."
"I am glad you felt you could trust me."
"I trust you with my life," Laurel replies, and she means it. Nyssa kisses her, then, and when she pulls away they both are blinded for a moment by the sun that's beginning to rise outside the window.
"As do I with mine. And I owe you mine, too, Taer Jameelah."
Laurel laughs at the nickname, and their fingers entwine as they watch the sunrise together.