Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Still not Andrew Hussie.
You do nothing but sigh upon waking up that evening. It's early, and you're not entirely unsurprised that your partner is still sleeping beside you, snoring about as loud as she could to probably try and spite you. It doesn't bother you, though, and you won't tell her that. You'll most likely bring up how she is cuddling your hand, though, or how her bare leg is hitched over her hip.
You don't want to move. This is too nice, too peaceful, too sweet to ruin by moving. The blankets were kicked off at some point during the mutual slumber, so both of your bodies are exposed, but you find you don't mind at all. Not after last night. You smile, cheeks flushing a bit as you think about it, turning your head to hide your grin in your pillow.
After a moment you peek out. You're still smiling, but it's a soft smile now, appreciative. Meenah's face is relaxed, surprisingly soft for her usual hard demeanor. You can hear her voice when she wakes up, asking you if that was ever going to happen again and if it wasn't then too bad she wasn't letting you walk away from this. As if you would walk away from it. You waited for her for more than enough sweeps. You will definitely not be walking away from this.
Her breathing is slow and rhythmic, and you could probably go back to sleep by listening to her, but you won't, because there's something entrancing about a sleeping, not caring Meenah Peixes. She looks vulnerable. She looks normal, almost, despite the many piercings she manages to sleep in. She looks as nice as can be right now. You have to stifle a giggle after that one – Meenah Peixes, nice? Never. Fiery and intelligent and maybe a bit (okay, a lot) greedy, but only nice sometimes. Nice to you.
You sigh again, and slowly your free hand lifts to touch her face. You start at her jaw, tracing around the curve and sharp point of her chin, going ear to ear and then over her nose and eyebrows, lifting your fingertips to avoid her piercings should you move them and wake her. She shivers when you trace the outline of her lips, pulling your hand closer to her chest, and you can feel a steady thump-thump under your fingers.
You move your free hand down the side of her neck, over her shoulder, and down her arm until your hand brushes your other hand's finger tips, and then back up and down the side of Meenah's body. You can feel her ribs under your fingers, and you count them as you work your way to her waist. Once you get there, you pause, and let your hand rest just above her pelvic bone. Her skin under your hand feels sort of silky, and you watch your hand on her waist for a moment longer.
Then you move it again, down her thigh, letting your nails drag lightly over her skin. You stop when you get to her knee, not wanting to shift to drastically. Slowly, you move back up again, pausing again at her waist to watch her face this time. She's still snoring, but she lets out a sigh, one that puffs her lips. She lifts your hand in her sleep and nuzzles against it, and you run a thumb over her cheek before she begins using your hand as a pillow.
Your smile returns in full force as you move your way back up her side. You count her ribs again, making sure you got the initial number right, and then once you hit her shoulder you move slightly down, under the curve of her breast and down the flat, muscular plane of her stomach. You let your hand splay there, feeling her breathe for several breaths before moving again. You go back up, run your hand down her arm again, and then return to her neck. You move your hand around the back of it and let yourself grab a frayed braid and a run a hand over it for a moment before tucking several pieces of her shortest layer back behind her ear.
You let your thumb trace the shell of her ear and then follow the curve of her jaw again, and then her nose and eyebrows. She shivers again. You pause when you get to her lips, your smile falling as you begin thinking. Your fingers trace the outline of her lips once more before resting lightly on her lower lip. She's lovely, you think. She'd never let you tell her that, of course, she'd prefer a compliment that involved her taking over a world or something, but she's lovely.
Your soft smile returns.
Meenah begins to stir. You don't remove your hand pillowing her face, and you don't remove your fingertips from her lips. Her eyes flutter open and she squints at you. You can hear the question coming, can hear her voicing it with the familiar excitable rasp – "The shell are you doin', Serket?" – but before she does you scoot closer to her. (If you accidentally thrust against her, well, that's just an added bonus, now isn't it?) The question dies in her throat, and you finally lower your fingers and kiss her soundly on the lips.
She responds almost immediately, using the leg she's got hooked over your waist to give her leverage. She straddles you and forces your lips apart under hers, and there's something about the way she sort of forces everything to speed up. You think you could get used to it, this hailstorm and giant waved and fiery sort of thing you feel in the pit of your stomach every time Meenah kisses you like this.
You think you already are.
You're pretty sure you love it.
You let your hands latch onto her shoulders as she breaks away from your lips and kisses up your cheek to your ear, biting your lobe before whispering, "You up for round two?" And then, suddenly, your first night together turns into your first morning together, and then your second but still first morning together, and the rest of the day is spent in each other's arms and company.
You definitely love it. You don't think there's any "pretty sure" about it.
AN: Friend reblogged an "imagine your OTP" thing on Tumblr.
(And I ship Aranea/Meenah a lot.)
(Go figure the only way I can write them is when Meenah doesn't even talk.)
(Lousy stupid fishpuns.)
Enjoy~