Notes
For a prompt on the homesmut kink meme, but no sex.
You wake up stuck to the sheets. The air feels way too humid and gross. You groan. The light behind your eyelids is too bright. You scrabbles on the floor for your glasses, place them on your nose and deliberate on whether or not it's worth opening your eyes.
There's a really loud terrifying vrrrrming sound! You sits up in bed and open your eyes. Meenah's crouched by the fan, which is on and whirring around like it's about to break. Your friend is wearing the same clothes from last night, cutoff shirt and cargo pants, and you wonder how she's not dying of heat exhaustion. Her shoes are off, though, and you notice that her toenails are painted spring green, not hot pink like you expected.
"Nice to see you fin-ally up, sleeping beauty," she says.
You roll out of bed, peeling yourself from the sheets in the process. You whuff at her eloquently. She grins, long and sharp, and you're suddenly very aware that you're only wearing underwear and it's sticking to you. She gives your ears a ruffle. It's a weird feeling.
"Hey," you say, "this is my dreambubble."
Meenah leans back onto the hardwood floor, arms folded behind her head, braids pooling around her. Her back is arched and her gray stomach is showing, rough and scaly and, you know from experience, textured like sandpaper. Her horns scrape the wood. "So this is your room, huh dog girl," she says.
"Yep," you say. "I know it's not much compared to a royal palace!" The summer sunlight is streaming through the blinds, but the windows are closed. You should probably open them, but then the air in this room will just get humid as well as hot. You're not used to this climate any more. Your planet is frosty springtime all year round, and the Furthest Ring is never warm.
"Yeah, well," Meenah says. "Palaces ain't so great when you live there all by yourshellf." She blinks, and you can see the sadness of that statement catching up with her. "I mean, if there ain't servants wading on you hand and fin all night long then what's even the point?"
You stretch. It makes no sense to have tight muscles in a dream, but you certainly feel like you slept all twisted up. "I was all alone here too," you say, because you don't want her to try and cover everything up with bluster again. "I mean, there was my dog, and all the other animals on the island, but it would have been fun to have neighbors!"
She unfolds her arms, props herself up on one angular elbow and leans over to kiss you. She's sweating too, and tastes salty, like the sea. She's smushing your glasses into the soft skin around your eyes and it's kind of painful, so you push her off and remove the offending item, taking the opportunity to also divest yourself of your bra. Then you pounce, knocking her elbow away so she falls onto the hard floor, draping yourself over her. Her skin is hot against yours. She reaches one hand up and cards it through your tangled masses of rough hair. "Damn, girl," she says, and then she stares at your butt and grins again. "Hey, is your tail wagging?"
"Shut up," you bark, and kiss her before she can think of any fish puns.