Title: It'll Be Our Turn, Someday
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~6,700 (this chapter)
Characters: Dick/Artemis
Summary: AU. Fifteen years later and they're still best friends. She's pretty sure sleeping with Dick because she's drunk and hormonal will put a dent in their dynamic.
A/N: I swear the other two parts of this are written already, so they'll be posted in a few days. I'm not going to leave it hanging like "Kept You On Speed Dial After All These Years" /: (Speaking of which, I'll try and get back to that eventually…)
It'll Be Our Turn, Someday [1/3]
It's a mistake and she knows it as soon as it's happening.
Before it's happening, actually, because Dick's… well, Dick, and she's only human, so maybe she's fantasized about her best friend more than just a few times, but she never let her feelings get anywhere further than that because she wasn't about to ruin one of the only perfect things in her life.
She and Dick have known each other since they were seven and she transferred to Gotham Elementary on a scholarship. She has no idea how a competitive scholarship into a grade school even works, but whatever. Somehow she qualified for it and so she found herself attending one of the most prestigious grade schools in the country. All of her classmates were rich heirs from old money families and kids of wealthy politicians and international celebrities all that crap. Two-thirds of them were snobs, and then the decent ones took pity on her because she wasn't as rich as them and she hated that almost as much. The only ones who treated her like a friend rather than some strange new kid were Dick, Bette and Barbara.
Fifteen years later and they're still best friends.
Now Jason's one of them, too, and there are very few people other than the four of them that she cares enough about to throw punches for. She's pretty sure sleeping with Dick because she's drunk and hormonal will put a dent in their dynamic.
Okay, she's not that drunk. She's not trying to cheapen any of this by claiming she is, either.
It's just that everyone in their little group knows she's notorious for one night stands, so much so that she basically mastered the walk of shame so that she's washed, dressed and ready to function within an hour of sneaking out of the room. She's had awful experiences with relationships – her parents had a nasty divorce when she was nine and all of her high school boyfriends were self-centered assholes that treated her like crap – and so she doesn't want one anytime soon, but she's only human and she wants sex, so hookups are the way to go. Besides, they exist for a reason, right? And it's not like she throws herself at just anyone. She has to find them halfway decent, which means a lot more than you'd think considering she's picky as hell when it comes to people. And she's always protected and takes necessary precautions. Maybe she's promiscuous, but at least she's smart about it.
But this – letting Dick press her against the door and kiss her neck as his hand slides up her leg – isn't smart… like, at all. She'd be lying, though, if she said not even a tiny part of her wished something like this would happen when she agreed to be Dick's date to this out-of-town charity thing for his dad's friend, who's also paying for their hotel room.
The one they have separate from Bruce's.
Fuck.
He sucks on her pulse as he presses his fingers against her through her panties and actually groans at how wet she is.
"Shit, Artemis, you're—"
She practically tugs at his hair, cutting him off as she pulls him from her neck and brings their lips together. He rubs against her nerves and she gasps. It should be embarrassing how close she is to coming, especially considering they haven't really done anything, but she's been soaked for a while and was waiting until she could slip away to take care of herself.
(Obviously she likes this alternative a lot better right now.)
He pulls his hand away and she fucking whimpers at the loss. "Dick," she complains. "Don't stop." That's practically begging for her and she's not like this, at all, ever.
He chuckles at her and kisses along her jawline, licks the skin below her ear and makes her moan loudly. "I'm taking you to the bed." His breath his warm against her ear as he tells her this and she digs her nails into his bicep as a shiver ripples down her spine. She shakes her head in protest – she wants him now – but she's already got one leg wrapped around his hip, so he hooks the other one around him and holds her with one arm as he lifts her off of the door. She rolls her hips against where he's hard for her and he mutters, "Fuck."
As soon they're inside the bedroom, he presses her against the mattress and kisses her slowly.
She can feel her heart thumping in her chest. With the way they're pressed against each other, he can probably feel it, too.
"Artemis," he says against her lips. She rolls her hips against him again and he breathes, "Shit, just…" and pulls away just a little bit, grasping her chin with his fingers and tilting her head so that she's staring back at him. "Tell me to stop and I'll stop."
She bites her lip.
This… this should be her chance to stop all of this, to go back and save fifteen (fifteen!) years of friendship. They can still stop right now if that's what she wants.
So she digs her nails into his arm and tells him, "Don't you dare stop."
He smiles at her in response – one of his signature, stupidly happy smiles – and tugs her panties off her hips. And she's pretty sure that stupid smile doesn't leave his face for the rest of the night, especially when he sinks into her slowly and she tosses her head back and practically screams his name.
... ...
What they did was stupid.
It was sexy and hot and incredible and… and stupid. When she wakes up in the morning, the sun's warm against her skin and the sheets are tangled around her legs and when she stretches her entire body out, she feels sore in the best way possible. She also has the bed entirely to herself and she can't even bring herself to regret anything about last night.
(And that's probably the stupidest part to all of this.)
Not much longer after her eyes have adjusted to the light (seriously, it's too bright) and she's beginning to wonder (worry) about where Dick went, the bedroom door opens and Dick's wheeling a cart inside. He gives her that stupid smile of his when he sees her and it actually looks more like a smirk to Artemis right now.
That may have to do with the fact that he's got boxers and a clean, white shirt on while she's still totally naked. Right, clothes… Where'd he throw her clothes?
"Can you…" She sits herself up, which is a bigger ordeal than it needs to be because, you know, sore. "I need… I can't eat my breakfast naked."
He fucking pouts. "Yes, you can."
"Dick," she laughs.
He grins, pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to her. It's better than nothing, at least, and really, she's content with not having to actually get up and find something clean to wear in her bag on the other side of the room. She pulls it on and tugs it as far down as it'll go (which is barely passed her hips, but whatever). He sits beside her on the edge of the mattress, pours her some coffee with a splash of creamer (they've known each other for years; he knows how she takes it) and hands her the mug without being asked. It's quiet for a few minutes while they're tearing into their breakfast, because she's basically starving and they totally burned off everything she ate yesterday with the all of the sex they had, so.
Then she washes the hash browns down with a gulp of coffee and lets out this sigh.
"So, last night…" He takes a bite into his blueberry muffin, raises his eyebrows. "It shouldn't have… I mean, I wanted it to happen, obviously. I told you that. But it probably… It'd be better if it didn't happen… again, anyway. I mean, it felt great,but…"
She sucks at this.
"Artemis, relax," he says, and she actually does. "Don't get all anxious on me, alright? Maybe it was a mistake or maybe it wasn't. But you're still my best friend." He reaches over and wipes some whipped cream from the corner of her lips and she can't help but smile at that. "It's not going to be weird. It'll be entirely on your terms, like everything always is."
He pretends to sound bitter about that last part, and she grins and shoves his arm because she knows he's just teasing her.
She's also still a little worried that, yes, this will make things weird between them and they won't be able to help it.
And because he just knows her that well, and probably knows exactly what she's thinking, he rolls his eyes. "Just stop thinking about it before you turn into Bette. It'll be fine." He smiles, flashing all of his perfect, white teeth. "We'll laugh about this someday."
She grins.
Dick's always been the best at cheering her up.
... ...
The apartment smells like pumpkin when Artemis and Barbara return from the store. It isn't the worst scent in the world, but she's glad Bette thought to light some cinnamon candles, open the windows and plug in some air fresheners before she began hallowing pumpkins.
"You've got awesome timing," Bette's saying as she plops another scoop of pulp and seeds onto the table. "I'm almost done!"
"Good because Dick and Jason are on their way," Artemis replies. "Need help getting rid of the guts?"
"Yes, please," she laughs.
So she and Barbara set the groceries down in the kitchen and Artemis puts them away while Barbara and Bette clean up the pumpkin guts. Some of it goes into Tupperware, because Bette likes using the fresh pulp to make pumpkin recipes from scratch, and the rest fills up two garbage bags which Jason and Dick will probably take down to the dumpster later.
And then they're left with literally a dozen of empty pumpkins.
Halloween's in exactly a week and they're carving their jack-o-lanterns tonight and using battery-operated candles since they live in an apartment building and obviously don't want to (and probably can't) use a real candle and leave a flame burning. And they're doing this at their apartment – the one she, Barbara and Bette moved into after two years of required college dorm life – because Jason's place is basically a hole and also in a pretty scary (aka: sketchy) neighborhood and then Dick lives in a rich building with awful, stuck-up neighbors, so.
Besides, their apartment is the best.
It's basically just a huge studio with tall ceilings and a hardwood floor, three walls of red brick and one of glass that gives them an awesome view of the city. The bathroom is literally the only place in the apartment with enclosed walls and a door. Otherwise, they have bookshelves and cabinets to separate areas, and if they do need privacy, they'll put up their dividers because it's the agreed indication that they don't want to be bothered. Artemis would normally hate the idea of not having her own room with a lock and everything, but it's different because it's Barbara and Bette. They're so comfortable with each other, and even when they're doing their own thing and not really talking, it's nice to not be totally alone.
They have rules, too, obviously, but it's not like they have them written down or anything. They have an understanding and if anything's unclear, they just check in with each other. They split up chores and bills equally and ask before borrowing anything and always give ample warning before bringing a guy over to stay the night.
What more could a girl ask for?
Anyway.
The boys get there around 6:00 and say that they're hungry (what else is new?), so Artemis pours some chips into a large bowl and opens the 7-layer dip they just bought. She's setting them on the kitchen island when Dick shoves her shoulder playfully.
She hasn't seen him since the charity thing a few days ago, but that's not avoidance or anything. Their hours have just been crazy.
"You know what you want to carve?" she asks.
He shrugs and snatches a chip. "I saw these pumpkins that looked like a face puking out the pumpkin guts."
"Of course you'd like that." He just grins. "Well, they already bagged the guts, so if you're doing that, you'll have to go in and scoop everything out yourself."
"Noted," he laughs. "What about you?"
"I was looking at a few people did of haunted mansions. You know, with the really tall towers with gargoyles and…" She trails off, arching an eyebrow at him because he has that look on his face when he's holding back an opinion. "What, is that too cheesy or something?" His lip twitches upward, which means she's right. "Well, what do you recommend?"
"I don't know. It's just that everyone does Halloween stuff to their pumpkins."
"Because it's Halloween," she says slowly, not sure what the problem is. Honestly, does he want someone to carve the Easter bunny or something?
He rolls his eyes. He's also laughing, though, so he can't be too offended or anything. "I know that," he says, "but all that's overdone. It's your pumpkin, so you should do something that makes sense to you but someone else wouldn't think of right away, right? Like a favorite character or whatever."
"Yeah, I guess."
He has a pretty good point. That happens more often than she likes considering she doesn't particularly enjoy being outsmarted by anyone, ever.
"What's your favorite movie from when you were a kid?" he asks, and she knows that's a rhetorical question because they know each other's favorite childhood movies—his is Peter Pan and hers is Alice in Wonderland. Then he grins like he knows exactly what she's thinking and then says, "Cheshire," at the same time she does. She laughs.
"I thought the point is to think of something someone else wouldn't think of?"
He smiles at her like she's missing something. "Well… I mean, come on. It's us. Of course it'll be different."
(It's kind of scary how true that is.)
... ...
Applying for this country club was mostly a joke and partly because she was desperate. She was a freshman in college and looking for anything (okay, not anything) with a decent enough pay. She didn't want to be unreasonable, but minimum wage?
That's basically a crime.
Of course Dick's a member here. His family is, technically, but Dick's the only one that actually comes here and even then, that's only when he's with their group. Hanging out at a country club was definitely preferable over all the places their classmates were always at. (If the pictures on Facebook were anything to go by, they weren't missing much.)
So she actually hung out here a lot before becoming an employee. Most of the higher ups in staff already knew her because of that. This older guy in management called her, Bette and Barbara sweethearts and totally loved them, in sweet way rather than him just being a pedophile. They went to the private retirement party the club threw for him and everything. So, yeah, being friends with the higher ups in stuff probably played a big part in her actually getting hired, but whatever. You use what you got, right? Besides, she already knew the place pretty well and has always been a quick learner. The manager told her as much in person when he said the job was hers if she really wanted it. She'd be stupid not to take it.
She also gets paid more because she asked and (politely) listed all the reasons why she's valuable to them. She's still a floater because she actually likes having a different set of responsibilities each day, but she can sub for way more positions than the others and she's trusted with keys to more exclusive areas and everything.
It's great.
Right now she's a junior golf instructor. What that basically means is that she gives each kid a club and a few golf balls and lets them go at it while she watches from the side. She gives pointers when they ask, but the first time she did this, they told her to let them do their own thing and just make sure nobody gets hurt, so that's what she's doing.
She sees Dick leave the building, glance around until he sees her and lifts a hand in a wave.
"How's it going, Tiger Woods?" he asks when he reaches her, which makes her laugh and shake her head.
"Should I take that as an insult?"
"Not unless you find being a pro at golf insulting."
She laughs. "So, is there a particular reason you're here or did you just come here to bug me?"
"Sheesh, I'm just visiting. That's not a crime. It is my lunch break, after all."
"It's three o'clock."
"Okay, my second lunch break. I needed another excuse to get out of the office because paperwork is the worst. Besides, Dad's the boss, so…" He shrugs, grinning.
"Nepotism and an abuse of power," she says, eyebrows raised. "If you keep this up, you'll be running the company in no time."
He tips his head back a little when he laughs, and she really can't help but notice how perfectly disheveled it is. It's always perfectly disheveled. It really shouldn't be considering he's in a business suit (minus the blazer and with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows, but still), but somehow he makes it work without looking halfway put together. She's had this discussion with Bette and Barbara before and Bette's convinced that his bright blue and perfect jaw structure are what ties his overall image together, so he can wear anything and not look ridiculous.
Artemis loves Bette, but the girl's kind of crazy.
Dick's just naturally confident – sometimes irritatingly so – and basically demands respect without even trying and that's why he gets away with things. He's also clever and charming as hell and has a habit of pulling a fast one on people without them noticing until it's too late. They've been treated to meals on the house more than once because of him.
"Let's go grab something to eat," he says. (Speaking of which…) "I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry," she reminds. "And I can't. I get off at five-thirty and I already took my break at noon."
"Where's your manager?"
"Dick," she laughs.
He's smiling stupidly again. "What?" he asks, feigning ignorance.
And he actually does leave once he spots Mr. Bibbowski heading towards the tennis center. Artemis watches in amusement as he goes and then turns her attention back to the kids when one of them asks her for help. After another half hour of golfing, their time is up and she gets them to help her load the golf balls and clubs onto a golf cart for someone to put away. Then she walks them to the locker rooms and they change into their swimsuits while she's helping a few of the other employees open up the 18-and-younger swimming pool.
Dick's in the main building when she's back inside and he's still chatting with Mr. Bibbowski, who's standing behind the front desk.
"You mean I haven't gotten rid of you, yet?" she asks, grabbing both of their attention.
Dick smirks and shakes his head, reaches over to tug gently at her braid as he says, "Oh, right. I got you the rest of the day off. I'm such a pest."
She arches an eyebrow.
"He wore me down," Mr. Bibbowski admits with a deep chuckle. Yeah, Artemis can believe that. "Besides, don't think that I haven't notice you cutting your breaks short the last few weeks to help cover other people's shifts." He gives her a look and she just shrugs. "All that time's probably accumulated to two hours by now, so you've earned it, darling."
And, well, she really can't argue with her boss, right?
... ...
It only takes thirty minutes for her to cave and fifteen of those were spent on the drive back to the apartment.
The scary part is she tried really hard to fight it.
He didn't exactly make it easy on her, though. His leg was pressed against hers and he had his hand on her knee, which he's always just done and she never thought too much of it before. But his fingers skimming over her skin was all she could think about, no matter how hard she tried focusing on the How I Met Your Mother marathon they turned the channel to. Then he turned his head towards her and she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her lips, until finally she tugged him by his tie and he pressed their lips together.
If this is going to keep happening whenever they're alone, she's screwed.
She moves to straddle his lap, sets her hands on the back of the couch as she swipes her tongue against his bottom lip. He lifts one hand to push his fingers through her hair and uses the other to bunch her skirt further up her legs. Bette and Barbara aren't supposed to be home for at least another hour, but there's still a very real chance one of them will walk in and, for a second, she tenses at that realization. Then Dick rubs over her bundle of nerves through her soaked panties and she dissolves into a moan, all thoughts about that – or anything else, for that matter – totally forgotten. He tugs her panties down and they stop mid-thigh, but they're enough out of the way for him to sink two fingers into her easily.
"Dick," she says, but then he rubs right next to her clit and her mouth parts as she lets out a breath. "Dick, just… just wait a second…"
He stalls his hand and she bites back a whimper.
"Did you want to stop?" he asks. He sounds sincere about it, but also like he's trying hard to restrain himself.
She shakes her head and he starts moving his fingers again, very slowly, and she digs her nails into the wooden frame of the couch. "Barbara and Bette will—"
"They won't be home anytime soon."
"I know, but—" He swipes his tongue over her collarbone and she's distracted. She has a hard time remembering what she's trying to say. He nips at her skin and she rolls her hips in response. "They'll know, Dick." Her voice comes out all breathy and fucked up and she feels him smirk against her skin because of it. "So we can't… at least not here."
"Bathroom?" he asks.
She nods, and considering he chuckles, it was probably really eager of her, but whatever. She is right now and it's Dick. Even if she tried to hide it, he'd know.
He pulls his hand away and laughs softly at the noise she makes (jerk!), lifts her in his arms and walks them to the bathroom. She half expects him to just press her against the door like he had at the hotel, but instead he locks the door, yanks the shower curtains back and twists the water on.
"To help hide the evidence," he explains, and she's not sure if sex in the shower leaves less of a trace, but then Dick hooks his thumb over the waistband of her skirt and slants his lips over hers and she doesn't question it any further.
He tosses their clothes on the floor as he strips them both, and then she's standing under the hot water with her back pressed against his chest as he gathers her wet hair and pushes it over one shoulder. He sucks the skin at her throat and she tips her head back against his shoulder and lifts a hand to push it through his hair, tugging at the damp strands as his hand slides down her front and he sinks two fingers into her again, working slowly. She tries to roll her hips, but his other arm tightens around her to hold her in place and she moans his name. He slides his lips up her throat, swipes his tongue over the skin just below her ear as he flattens his palm against her, and her legs quiver as she moans louder.
She comes like this, pressed against him with his name echoing against the walls, because he teased over her nerves and brought her so close before stopping suddenly, doing this a few times and driving her insane. Then he licked the skin below her ear and came instantly, his arm tightening to keep her steady through her orgasm.
Shit.
That was just…
Well, she's practically gasping for air, even as she's coming down from her high and she almost saw stars, her orgasm was so intense, so.
If every orgasm feels like that, she might never let him leave this bathroom.
He presses a kiss to her shoulder as he slides his hand up and down her arm, rubbing the warm water into her skin, which feels kind of amazing. She's also definitely aware of how hard his length is as it's pressing against the inside of her thigh, and as soon as she catches her breath, she'll do something about that.
"How was it?" he asks against her skin. He doesn't sound smug or like he needs reassurance or anything, but genuinely concerned if she liked it or not.
If he couldn't tell how much she loved it by the sounds she was making then he's not as smart as everyone claims to be.
Still, she turns in his arms, leans against him (because her legs still feel like nothing right now and she doesn't feel like slipping, thank you very much) and drapes her arms around his neck and kisses him slowly. "You're amazing," she tells him, because it was and she's not above letting him know that. He gets that smile on his face again. "Are you always?"
He chuckles, so she knows he's not really offended by that.
"It could be possible."
She licks her lips. That sounds a lot like a challenge or even a promise to her.
"You know," he adds, "eventually we'll have to talk about this."
Which, yes, is true, but she looks up at him from under her eyelashes as her hand slides down his hard, wet chest.
"We could talk now," she agrees, sinking to her knees and smirking as she wraps his fingers around him and this groan comes from the back of his throat. "Or we can make the most of the time left that we have the place to ourselves and I can put my mouth to better use."
Guess which one he chooses.
... ...
Dick's gone by the time Bette gets home, but that's not because Artemis kicked him out. Bette would hardly be suspicious of the two of them hanging out alone. He just got a call from his Dad to come back to the office (which of course she teased him about) and left as Artemis got a text from Bette saying that she's on her way.
Artemis is sitting on the couch with her hair up in a braid and the TV turned onto Mr. & Mrs. Smith when Bette walks in, but gets up to help when she sees how much the girl's trying to carry. Bette always ends up bringing work home because she has lesson plans to go over and tons of papers to grade. She takes the time to organize her notes for each day, and after that she still goes through each essay and test with an equal amount of attention and marks them thoroughly with comments and tips. And that's great for her students and everything, but it takes a lot of effort and twice as long to get through everything. She's always exhausted at the end of the day, but still manages to be cheerful rather than bitchy.
She's weird like that.
Anyway, they set her stuff onto the coffee table and Bette pulls the elastic from her hair, shaking out her ponytail. "So…"
Artemis raises an eyebrow, waiting. She expects her to ask what to make for dinner (which Artemis will offer to make instead because obviously she's got work to finish) or if Barbara said when she'd be getting home (around 7:00), or maybe even ask for some help with grading (which is rare – Bette likes doing everything herself – but not totally unheard of).
Instead she asks, "Who'd you have sex with?"
"Um…"
"You think I wouldn't know?" she asks. Bette can always, always tell when Artemis or Barbara just had sex. Fortunately, she seems amused about it rather than freaking out like she probably would be if she knew the guy Artemis had sex with Dick.
And Artemis never keeps things from her or Barbara, ever. Maybe menial stuff a long time ago, but that's because they were, you know, younger and stupid. But she's not exactly ready to say anything when she hasn't even talked to Dick about it yet, so she just shrugs and says, "My boss let me off work early," and knows the girl will fill in the blanks herself.
(So what if they're off?)
... ...
They try not to go out for Halloween because it's crazy as hell and every asshole downtown sees it as an excuse to be total creeps and get away with it just because they're in costume. Like, Jason's literally knocked people out for groping Bette when they didn't get leave after she told them to fuck off.
Not all of them were guys, either. Bette's always been that pretty, but put her in a costume?
All hell breaks loose.
Anyway, Bette decided last night that she wanted to go out on Halloween this year. Apparently one of the teachers that's she's friends with at their school knows someone that's a pretty popular DJ and he's spinning tonight and offered to put Bette on the VIP list so she and whoever she brings can get in for free. This hasn't been the first time Bette's gotten this offer, but it's the first time she's actually going to use it. And she's not making them come along, but they know she wants them to and they're not about to let her go out alone.
And seriously, no one can say no to the girl.
So Artemis puts on her old Gotham Academy uniform (she found it in the back of her closet the other day, which is weird, since it should be at her mom's, but whatever) and walks into a club with her arm linked with Bette's and at least a dozen guys blatantly checking her out.
Okay, so it's a bit of a squeeze, but that sure as hell isn't because she gained an ounce of weight that isn't muscle. She's perfectly healthy and works out each morning to make sure she stays in shape. This uniform is probably just from freshman year before her last growth spurt or something, because the skirt's a lot shorter than she remembers and she can't button her blouse all the way up because her boobs are too big. She'd definitely get sent home had it fit like this back in high school, but she's an adult now and she's only wearing it as a costume. The sad part about it, too, is that even she thinks it's pretty revealing and it's still a lot more modest than the slutty costumes almost every other girl here has on.
"Wow," someone says by her ear, a hand sliding over the small of her back.
She literally almost smacks them away (which wouldn't be the first time since she got here), but then she turns and sees that it's Dick.
"Shit," she exhales. "I thought you were a creep."
"Not quite." He sits on the barstool next to hers, eyes drifting over her clothes. He's dressed as a police officer and it looks like an authentic uniform rather than those stripper-looking costumes ones, though she feels herself getting wet all the same. "You look good," he finally says, meeting her eyes again. "Talk about déjà vu."
"I know, right?" She takes another sip of her margarita. "It totally brought back memories when I put it on."
"Brings back memories, alright," he says with a laugh, and she doesn't really think anything of it until he adds, "And a few different fantasies, to be honest."
Her eyes widen.
He's smirking a bit, yes, but she can tell that he's totally serious.
"What?" Her voice sounds crappy because she literally almost choked on her drink.
"Come on, Artemis. Don't play dumb."
"I'm not dumb," she snaps.
He laughs, but then she glares at him and he raises his eyebrows once he realizes she's being serious. "You really didn't know?" She glares. She hates it when people are cryptic with her. "You're my best friend and everything, but you're also hot and you were in a uniform and it was just…" He shrugs. "I'm only human, Art. Obviously there were thoughts."
Well, shit.
She'd be lying if she said she hasn't fantasized about Dick, either, even when they were in high school and she was dating someone else. That probably makes her a horrible person, but she's always found him attractive and he said it himself: she's only human. Knowing that he's felt the same too for just as long kind of changes everything.
So she says, "I've had some thoughts, too," and kind of loves the noise he makes. "You know this thing between us?" She sets her hand over his knee and he nods when he realizes she was waiting for him to. "Let's keep doing it."
"What?"
She nods. She's thought this out seriously since they had sex in the shower a few days ago, and really, it can work. It's kind of obvious that they can't be left alone with each other anymore and still control their hormones, so even if they try to fight it, it'll just cause all of these problems and they'll have to avoid each other and the others will start to think there's drama between them. Plus, she's kind of tired of the hit and misses with her random hookups. She's always, always safe, but most of the guys she's been with seem to think that because it's a one-time thing they can get away with not really getting her off properly. That or they just suck in bed, but either way, she's had to fake a lot of orgasms recently.
Plus, they're friends – best friends. She knows for a fact that he'll treat her properly even when they're not in bed, and obviously they've realized they can still act perfectly normal with each other with everyone else around after having had sex twice. Besides, friends with benefits exist for a reason, right?
(Maybe it only ever works out in the movies, but whatever. They can do this.)
She basically tells him all of this as simply as possible and he gives her that stupid smile of his again in response. "You're sure about this?"
"Yes, I'm sure," she says, sliding her hand up his leg and hooking her finger through his belt loop. "I'm also sure that I want to hear some of those fantasies of yours."
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."
She licks her lower lip and he groans a little and tugs at the hem of her skirt. "Let's get out of here."
He kisses her, just because, and then drapes an arm around her shoulders as he leads her out of the club. She's only been at this party for half an hour, but whatever. She hasn't seen Bette or Barbara since they first got here or Jason at all (he showed up with Dick), and she knows that they can take care of themselves, so they'll be fine.
Dick calls them a small limo (of course he does) and holds the door open for her as she slides into the seat, which seems sweet and everything, but then they drive off and he slides his hand up her leg and under her skirt and she bites her lower lip as she looks at the driver. They're separated by a tinted window and she can barely make out the guy's silhouette. She's pretty sure the driver can't see them, but she's still torn between being worried or completely turned on by the fact that they're doing this with a stranger only a few feet away.
Her panties are soaked and he mutters, "Fuck," when he realizes it.
"Dick," she breathes.
He kisses the underside of her jaw and circles his fingers slowly over her and she tips her head back and lets out a breath. Then his fingertip grazes the wet material above her bundle of nerves, and her hips snap up and she sucks in a breath as she grasps his onto leg.
"You'll have to be quiet," he says softly, his breath warm against her ear. She bites her lower lip and he tugs at her panties. "Can I take these off?"
She nods again, lifts her hips so he can slide them down her legs and over her heels. He tucks them into his pocket and moves to his knees in front of her, sets his palm against the inside of her thigh and spreads her legs further apart. She grips the edge of the leather seat as he kisses the skin right above her knee-high socks, digging her nails as he trails keeps pressing kisses higher and higher until her skirt's bunched around her waist and he licks one slow stripe up her center, stopping below her clit. She tips her head back and moans.
He chuckles and squeezes her leg a little. "I know you can't help it, but quiet, remember?"
"Shut up," she says, but it comes out breathless and not at all threatening.
Then he flattens his tongue against her and she presses the back of her hand against her mouth to stifle the sounds coming out of the back of her throat. She rolls her hips, but he presses his forearm against her to keep her in place, hooks her leg over his shoulder and as he swipes his tongue against her folds again.
"So good," he tells her.
She moans instead of responding, because there's not a coherent enough thought in her head right now to form a sentence. He starts moving his tongue against her again and teases her, circling her nerves and licking right next it before pushing his tongue inside and thrusting a few times, alternating until she's arching in the seat. Her clit is throbbing and totally aching, and when he finally sucks on it, hard and without any warning, her hips snap up and she swears she draws blood when she bites down on the back of her hand.
He works her up quickly like this, tongue flat against her nerves, and then pulls away when she's so close to the edge.
She lets out a frustrated cry and there're practically tears in her eyes.
He moves quickly (or maybe her senses are too clouded with want and hazy from her near-orgasm to fully register it) and kisses her, and she whimpers at the taste as he pushes his tongue passed her lips. Then he pulls away and places kisses along the underside of her jaw and she wants to know what he's doing and why he just left her hanging like that.
Then he whispers, "Want to know one of my favorite fantasies from high school?" and it all clicks into place.
She lets out this little noise.
"Remember that supply closet right next to the main office, with the bench along the wall?" She nods. "Imagine me going down on you, just like now, in the middle of the school day," he says, sinking to his knees again, "and you struggling to keep quiet because you know they'll be able to hear everything."
He has his mouth on her again before she can answer and she very nearly yelps. He teases her nerves again, brings her near the edge three more times before backing off, until she's clawing at the leather seats and growling his name and to not stop. Then he flattens his tongue against her nerves and bites down on her hand and digs her nails into the leather seats and arches her back as she lets go, her entire body shaking with her orgasm. Her eyes are shut and she swears she sees stars and he continues lapping through her orgasm, slowly as she comes down off of her high and then a little faster and faster until she's coming again, her skin on fire and her bones turning to liquid and her entire body tingling.
"Come here," she says once she finds her voice again, tugging him by his hair.
He leans up, sets his hand against the seat on either side of her and kisses her slowly, gently. It's kind of weird considering what they just did and that she can taste herself on his lips and his tongue, but that doesn't stop her.