A/N: Here's another little Sparia piece. Hope you enjoy!
The first thing Spencer becomes aware of upon waking is the taste in her mouth. It's stale, boozy, and her first thought is that she seriously needs to brush her teeth. She groans when the pounding in her skull begins, and reluctantly drags open her eyes as the nausea comes to say hello. A few blurry images flicker in her groggy mind—a bar, a taxi, fumbling to find her keys in her purse—and there's the memory of someone's hand tugging at her own, a tongue slipping into her mouth. She can easily piece together the outcome of the night, because in the air lingers the very faint musk of sex, perfume-sweet and sweat-damp on the pillows.
Not only that, but there's an arm slung across her midriff, breasts pressing up against her back, the warmth of another human being snuggled against her. Whoever she is, this stranger is small and delicate, her breaths gentle and deep as they brush the top of Spencer's spine, and it's nice. She feels so satisfied, so tired and soaked through, and she thinks that maybe this won't be just another one night stand. Maybe this woman could make her happy. All she has to do is roll over and remember her name.
Her name… She grasps at it, tries to remember, but it's all too hazy. There are too many empty gaps in her memory, and she's not sure if she even got her name in the first place. Sometimes she doesn't. It's often better not to know, and it's definitely better not to share her own name. That way she can pretend for a while. Play around in anonymity. Be nobody.
The irony isn't lost on her.
But it helps her cope. It gives her the human contact that she craves now that Toby's who-knows-where. He's probably already moved on, and so should she; it has been a year since…
She catches herself. She doesn't like to think about it, lest she feel like somebody's standing on her chest, crushing her lungs and the silent, still thing she calls her heart. This feeling, this sense of wholeness, is definitely one she wants to hang on to. She doesn't want to ruin it, so she casts thoughts of -A and Toby and different futures and everything that's not contained to this bedroom away. Her apartment is untouched by him, so it's… well, it's surprisingly easy.
A car passes outside, it's bass thundering in her bones, and the woman in her bed stirs, snuggles closer to her like it's a habit. Her face nuzzles the space between Spencer's shoulder blades, and Spencer's breath catches when the woman's ankle hooks her calf, the wetness of her soft hair bumping against the back of Spencer's thigh. It wakes her up enough that something becomes oddly familiar about this stranger. She can't put her finger on it, until she hears a tiny, contented sigh and recognizes it.
Aria.
She goes still, unsure what to do. Her best friend is naked and spooning her and… Spencer is surprised to find that she's not surprised. Not in the slightest. Things with Aria have always been different in a way neither of them felt the urgent need to define. Whatever it was that was different was strong, though, and it felt like it would last. It felt like a promise, like an always. Like they could just be and things would work themselves out.
She hopes they haven't just ruined it with something that might've been a stupid impulse.
Carefully, Spencer shifts around onto her back, turns her head to look at her still sleeping friend, and she almost gasps aloud. A warm strip of sunlight is coloring the perfect porcelain of Aria's bare shoulders and collarbone, and she looks adorably disheveled, her hair a mess, her makeup smudged. She's… beautiful. She's so beautiful like this that it takes Spencer's breath away. And she's not used to looking at Aria like this, but her lashes look so dainty and elegant, and she finds herself wanting to kiss the curve of Aria's neck, her eyelids, the perfect bow of her lips.
And suddenly Spencer can remember it all. Or the most memorable parts at least. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and breathless moans. Unclasping Aria's bra. Aria's fingers tugging on her hair, tracing a path down her stomach, curling in a way that made her throw her head back and–
She tears her eyes away, face flushing with heat, her mind reeling with the fact that she's thinking about her best friend like that.
Slowly, cautiously, she slides out of bed to locate her underwear, cool air nipping at her skin as she finds them beneath the dress she remembers slipping off Aria's shoulders, then she plucks a baggy t-shirt from her bureau and dons a shred of modesty. She can't stop sneaking glances at Aria all the while, wondering if she might wake up and half-considering making a run for it before that happens. Even if she wanted to, this is her own apartment. Besides, it would mean avoiding one of her favorite people on the planet for the rest of her life and Spencer couldn't stand having to do that, so she puts all her faith into quietly hoping that they can handle this. And who knows? Maybe Aria will feel similarly, and this will be the start of something wonderful.
Spencer pads on bare feet to the kitchen and puts some coffee on to brew, then goes into the bathroom to fill a paper cup with water and rifle through the medicine cabinet. She pops a couple of aspirin herself and dumps some into her palm for Aria, taking the time to tamp down her nerves. Then, pills and water in hand, she creeps back into the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed beside her friend, gently nudging her shoulder.
Aria groans, turns over onto her back, and cracks her eyelids open just a sliver before shutting them again. "Oh, hey, Spence," she murmurs sleepily, sounding exactly like she had at any one of the thousands of sleepovers they had when they were kids.
"Morning." The corners of Spencer's mouth quirk upwards at Aria's obliviousness, and she raises her eyebrows. "Aspirin?"
It takes a moment, but eventually the petite brunette's brows scrunch together, and her eyes snap open. Spencer watches familiar hazel irises look her over, linger on her bare legs, fill with something like panic as she puts the pieces together. "Spencer?"
"Yep?"
"Where are my clothes?"
"Well…" Spencer can't help it; her good-natured grin twists into a smirk. "I think I managed to ring a fan blade with your bra."
Aria glances uneasily at the ceiling fan—where her bra isn't, fortunately—but the joke visibly relaxes her. She lets out a quiet chuckle and sits up, shyly hugging the blanket to her chest.
"Here." Spencer proffers the aspirin and water, her voice much softer, and Aria takes them gratefully.
"Thanks, Spence," she murmurs. Spencer waits while she downs the painkillers, and politely takes the cup once she drains it. Their fingers brush, and that leaves Aria staring at them, a blush slowly spreading across her cheeks as she no doubt re-shifts her entire understanding of their friendship so far. "So, last night…"
Spencer's heart lurches at the ambiguity in Aria's voice. She finds herself afraid of being brushed off, thinks her heart can't handle it if she's being honest, but Aria smiles softly and very deliberately reaches over to rest her hand on Spencer's thigh—just above her knee, but it's enough that Spencer's breath catches in her throat.
"We definitely need caffeine beforehand, but I do want to talk about it," Aria reassures her. "And I definitely don't want this to change things between us. Not for the worse, I mean. If anything, I… I'd want them to change for the better."
The words perk Spencer up. "Really?"
Aria nods, her eyes doughy and damn near sparkling, and Spencer's heart not only sputters back to life, but soars.
"Okay," She breaks into a huge grin, her hand automatically falling to rest on top of Aria's. "Yeah, okay," she repeats, at a loss for the right words, feeling like a positively dumbstruck teenager that doesn't know what to do with herself in this situation. Thankfully, she catches the strong, mouth-watering scent of coffee, which spares her from any number of embarrassing clichés as she jerks a thumb over her shoulder. "Um… right. Coffee. And I toned it down a little, since I know you probably don't want the shakes alongside a hangover."
"Wow, so she knows how to treat a lady," comes the sarcastic reply as Aria's eyebrows fly upward. "Seriously, where was that level of consideration the few billion times you've forced me to drink your morning heart attack?"
"Well, that was before we had sex, babe." Spencer pats her hand playfully and stands up, throwing a teasing look over her shoulder. "I liked you, but I didn't like you that much."
She hears Aria scoff as she heads for the door. "If I had known the perks, I would've gotten into your pants a long time ago… babe."
Spencer shoots her a rather wry smile, then shifts back into a gentler tone as she gestures towards her chest of drawers. "You know where everything is, right? Feel free to borrow whatever."
Aria nods, so Spencer takes her leave, heading back into the kitchen to pour them two mugs of steaming coffee. She comes back into the bedroom with them in hand, and nearly trips over herself when she lays eyes on Aria's bare back, the swell of her hips and her toned thighs as she bends to pick up the button-up shirt Spencer was wearing last night. All the pressure slips from her head like helium from a balloon, and she slumps in the doorframe, the coffee sloshing precariously in its mugs.
She can't help but stare, watching as Aria drapes the shirt over her shoulders, sniffs the collar, turns around and actually doesn't seem surprised to see Spencer standing there. Her smile is impish and she doesn't bother to button up the shirt, leaving a strip of skin exposed that does nothing to help the less-than-holy thoughts running through Spencer's mind.
Spencer clears her throat, straightens up, awkwardly averts her eyes before deciding that eye contact is the way to go, and extends a mug out to Aria. "You could have borrowed something fresh, you know."
Aria shrugs, takes the coffee and blows gently at the steam. Her cheeks grow a touch pinker. "I like this shirt," she says. "Smells like you."
Spencer's heart flutters.
"Besides, I need to shower anyway."
Spencer strides back over to the bed to sit down, trying to think of anything except Aria in the shower because, God help her, she just might keel over if she lets herself indulge the thought. "Go for it," she says too hoarsely, and she can practically feel Aria's smirk.
"Would it be too forward of me to ask if you want to join?"
And oh, fuck.
Spencer sinks down onto the edge of the bed, sipping shakily at her drink. It scalds her tongue. "Uh… forward? Yes. Unwelcome? Absolutely not." She eyes the strip of bare decolletage on display beneath Aria's open shirt, the dip of her navel and the apex of her legs. She spies a particularly purple hickey on the inside of her thigh, shivers at the idea that it was her own mouth that put it there, sets her coffee mug aside and decides that they're definitely showering right now. "We can always talk later."
Aria's smirk deepens, but she doesn't protest, sits her coffee mug on top of the bureau. "Coffee can wait, too?"
"Coffee can wait, too," Spencer affirms, surprising even herself with the statement. "Wow, I cannot believe I just said that."
Aria's eyebrows shoot upward. "I can't believe you just said that either." She takes a few confident, meandering steps forward, a rather self-satisfied grin forming on her face. "Spencer Hastings loves me more than coffee. Who saw that coming?"
It's that word, the word that Spencer hasn't dared let herself use since she and Toby broke up, that gives her the courage to get to her feet. Love. They've said it before, but it means something entirely different in this context. Spencer strides across the room, closing the gap between them quickly, and for the first, entirely lucid time, she grabs Aria's face in her hands and leans down to kiss her. Immediately, Aria pushes up on tiptoe to meet her, fingers twisting in the front of Spencer's shirt, tugging her impossibly closer. Pillowy lips mold to fit hers, moving languidly, curiously, but with a certainty that shuts down any lingering hesitation on Spencer's part. Finally, they break apart just so, and Spencer says into their shared pocket of morning breath, "Aria… I do. I love you." She grins, pecking a gentle kiss to the tip of Aria's nose. "Much more than coffee."
"I love you, too," says Aria, lashes fluttering open, her expression soft and warm. Amusement glints in her eyes. "Now are we going to shower or what?"
Spencer laughs, then all at once she hooks her arms under Aria's thighs, hoists her up into the air. Aria gasps in pure delight, looping her arms around Spencer's neck and wrapping her legs around her waist. Swiftly, Spencer carries her to the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind them.
Later, they'll talk. For now all they need is the warm water and each other.