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The night they cut Coach's tendon together, things feel different.
Shauna takes her hand in front of everyone this time— smears the blood between their palms, shares the blame, sticky and hot and iron-smelling— and squeezes her tight like they're about to jump.
Then, Shauna Shipman takes her home.
Different.
She has to glance back at Gen to make sure she's seeing this shit— she sure is, everyone is— and then they're ducking past Shauna's curtain of blankets and it's closing up behind them, and Shauna is kissing her hot and hungry. She's in Shauna's space— Shauna had brought her here. No more furtive peeks through the blankets against her best instincts, when she knows Shauna's away or working and no one else is around to scold her for being a weird little dyke. She doesn't like the sound of the word, even in her own head, but with Shauna's mouth on hers, the thought of it doesn't even make her flinch.
So— different.
Sort of.
Because Shauna taking her home in front of everyone is different, and this kind of kissing is different too, like Shauna means it more than before, but when all is said and done— when Coach's hysterical cries have died down to pitiful whimpers and Melissa is splayed out, sweat-soaked and feeling like just another pelt adorning Shauna's bedding— she makes the same offer she always does, want me to do you? and Shauna shakes her head no with that distant look in her eyes, the one she thinks Mel doesn't notice.
And everything else might be different, but that?
That's the exact same.
She doesn't push.
"Alright," she breathes quietly instead, rolling over onto her side, and what's the etiquette here anyway? Does she get dressed, make herself scarce? Shauna's stripped her down to skin, and she's starting to get chilly. Maybe she keeps it simple. Maybe she just says something like hey Shipman, thanks for fucking me in an actual bed this time, and by the way, I couldn't help but notice you didn't even call me a slut or a freak this time. What's up with that, if you feel like sharing?
Probably not. Too wordy.
As she sits up, she looks to Shauna for clues. She's sitting at the foot of her bed fully clothed, playing with Mel's slick between her fingertips like she often does when they're done as if she's marveling at it, and suddenly Mel's biting her tongue just to keep from saying something that would definitely break the no slut or freak from Shauna streak, something like you know I could clean those for you, you don't have to be weird, because believe it or not, what you're doing right now is weird.
Right. So, no clues from Shauna.
As usual.
She gathers her boxers with a great big stretch, reluctant to leave the bed, and heaves a heavy sigh that gets no response whatsoever. She's tugging them back on gracelessly, scouting out the rest of her clothes in their various states of crumpled disarray around Shauna's hut when she speaks next, unsure what else to say.
"So, that was good. See you tomorrow?"
As if things are normal— as if either of them have anywhere else they could be tomorrow other than in unbearably close proximity to each other after what they've done tonight— and she hadn't meant for it to, not really, but oh, that gets a reaction.
"What?" Shauna asks as if she hadn't heard, head snapping up, and then because she obviously had, "No. I mean— you can stay, if you want to."
Shauna wipes her fingers off on the leg of her pants, finally, and Mel blinks, caught unawares by the offer half way through picking her own pants up off the floor. Shauna doesn't say anything else, of course: No it'd be nice to have company, no please don't go, I want you to stay.
Not her style. That's fine.
"Oh," Mel replies dumbly as she straightens up, pants dangling ineffectively in her distracted grasp, boxers low around her hips and a tuft of blonde curls peeking out over the hem. "Yeah. I mean, sure. That'd be cool."
It's hard to keep the smile off her face, especially with those dark brown eyes boring into her from the end of the bed. She wonders if Shauna even knows she's leering. It takes her a second to process that Shauna is leering at her.
"...These are kinda fucked up anyway," she jokes halfheartedly of her pants, giving them a wave and grasping at straws, trying to play it cool as her face warms— any excuse for the smile she can't help that isn't just Shauna, Shauna, Shauna. "I mean, would it still just be the walk of shame if I'm covered in some other guy's blood too, or do they call that something else?"
Shauna averts her gaze with a roll of her eyes, huffing out a breath that's almost a laugh. She might even sound amused as she goes back to fidgeting, worrying at the hem of her beat up old plaid shirt and lifting her brows as if stating the obvious:
"I think they call that a Lottie question, actually."
Fuck yes.
So Melissa sits back down, edging a bit closer, and Shauna doesn't stop or scold her. Doesn't touch her again either, or allow herself to be touched, but it doesn't really matter.
Mel stays.
They fall asleep together, back to back beneath Shauna's furs.
Different.
They make a habit of it.
Why not? Gen has Mari and Akilah and Robin to keep her company in the JV shelter, and besides, Mel likes having her own space for a change. Little mind that she’s sharing it with Shauna, or that more accurately, Shauna is sharing it with her. They enjoy each other’s company.
The sex is good too, of course.
Shauna lets Mel touch her, but she still doesn’t let Mel touch her, and if the rest of the team makes note of Shauna slinking off into the woods alone more often with no chores there to speak of, well, it isn’t their business.
It’s not Melissa’s either, but that doesn’t stop her.
So she slips off sometimes to listen— sue her.
Shauna had caught her early on, but she hadn’t hurt her for it, hadn’t even scolded her, and the routine hadn’t stopped or changed.
(At this point, Shauna slinking off alone is basically an invitation. Mel might be a freak, but she certainly isn’t an idiot.)
So Shauna wants plausible deniability.
Or something.
As if any of that matters when Shauna’s got a hand between her own legs at the base of her favorite tree, rubbing one out to the soft sounds Melissa can barely muffle ten feet away.
As she shakes apart, biting her own arm, Mel thinks please, Shipman, please just ask. Please.
Shauna doesn’t.
A few nights later, a few more no thanks deeper into whatever the fuck this is that they’re doing (because Mel isn’t quite sure it’s dating, even though she’d really like it to be), Shauna’s pencil is scratching away in her journal when she suddenly stops.
Mel is lounging under her blankets and furs, stripped down to the skin again but comfortable enough to stay that way, and Shauna seems frozen as she peers down at her journal. Melissa doesn’t think anything of it— Shauna gets lost sometimes, she’s used to it— until Shauna is looking up, eyes suddenly unmistakably fixed on Mel’s naked body despite the layers of fur and fabric between them.
And Shauna asks haltingly:
"So, are you like— a lesbian, or whatever?"
Mel’s first thought:
She’s not like a lesbian, she is a lesbian. It still feels weird to think, never mind to say after so many years keeping it close to her chest, but yeah.
Her second:
At least Shauna hadn’t said dyke.
And last, but certainly not least:
Christ, Shauna, not what I meant by ‘please just ask’, but sure.
"Uh, yeah," she says, watching Shauna a bit quizzically despite her best effort to stay cool, unaffected, because where is this coming from? They've been fucking for weeks, or, well—
Shauna's been fucking her. Not so much the opposite.
And Melissa half expects all the routine follow-up questions: The how did you know and the are you sure and maybe even the that's crazy, does your mom know? like she had gotten from Gen when she'd fessed up and told her in middle school, because Shauna is looking at her a bit strangely, but they never come.
Again, not really Shauna's style. That's fine.
Shauna just gives her a little half-shrug, a lift of those dark brows and a soft hm-ing sound in response as she looks Mel over.
And there might be a smile there, but— it's kind of hard to tell.
Shauna seems content with the answer, if nothing else. Like she'd just asked Mel her opinion on what's for dinner and Mel had replied favorably. Melissa watches Shauna drag her eyes away from her body, back to her journal, a fucking enigma as always.
The pencil goes back to scratching away.
Unsure what else to do or say, Mel closes her eyes.
What the fuck.
She lets the sound lull her off to sleep.
The next day, she catches sight of Shauna talking to Tai on the edge of the village. They go quiet when she draws near. It's probably nothing— they're friends, they could be talking about anything— but it still makes Melissa's mouth go dry.
Lesbian. Lesbian. Lesbian.
It's not like Tai doesn't know. Not like the whole village doesn't know, she'd said it herself, they've been fucking for weeks— but still. What could Shauna possibly be talking to Tai about in such hushed tones?
And why won't she talk to Melissa?
Aren't they friends too?
What a stupid, juvenile, insecure thought.
She does her best to dismiss it.
A few nights later, Shauna pulls her into their shelter with some urgency. Nothing new there, or so she thinks. Business as usual, and business as usual is great, so no complaints.
Until Shauna has her stripped down from the waist up, and suddenly those normally steady hands are hesitating.
"You good?"
Eloquent. But she has to ask, because Shauna is eying her a bit strangely, and it's not like Mel's shy around her anymore, but her tits are out, so. Her first instinct is to glance down at herself as she asks— maybe something looks different, though she has no idea what it could even be.
"No," Shauna says, and Melissa's stomach lurches unpleasantly along with her heart, but then Shauna's face screws up. "I mean, yes— we're good. Sorry."
Her hands leave Mel's waist. She looks like she might cross her arms at first, only for one hand to lift and run through her own hair instead, brushing it out of her face and giving it a little tug at the roots as she turns off slightly to the side.
Away from Mel.
That's a first.
Melissa can only watch as Shauna's eyes wander their entire shelter in the time it would take to blink before settling back on her. Almost furtive— over her shoulder.
They settle on Mel's face, too, not her tits.
What the fuck.
"Hey—"
Melissa starts, and Shauna cuts her off, tone clipped as she turns back to face her:
"No. We're good. We're good. Sorry, I was just— thinking."
And Melissa thinks Shauna is always thinking, but it's never stopped her before.
"Are you sure?" she asks, hands fidgeting at her sides as she fights the urge to cover herself up. She just feels so exposed all of a sudden, and Shauna is being weird, so. "We don't have to, if you don't want—"
"Stop," Shauna warns, deadly serious, and Mel's jaw snaps shut obediently, brows hitching up faintly in surprise.
Shauna studies her a moment longer.
And then, just like that, Shauna is kissing her again, cupping her jaw roughly with both hands and lapping past her lips like they'd never parted in the first place. When Mel takes a moment too long to reciprocate, brain still catching up to her body, Shauna takes the opportunity to remind her of her teeth quite unkindly, swallowing up the resulting yelp and rumbling out a growl of frustration into Melissa's gasping mouth.
Alright. Alright.
Point taken.
Whatever that had been, they're back now.
Great.
After, strung out and sticky with sweat, Mel flops over onto her back. She's still panting for breath, still a little dizzy from when Shauna had stuffed her face into the pillow, but she still asks, already knowing the answer by heart:
"Want me to—"
"No!" Shauna replies a bit more harshly than either of them are used to, and a bit more quickly too. Then, as if covering for herself, fidgeting with her still-slick fingers, she continues: "Stop asking."
"Alright," Mel replies, unable to help sounding a little put out, but she means it.
And then, because Shauna is about to wipe them off anyway, and really, what dignity does she even have left to lose, Melissa blurts out:
"Wait."
Shauna's gaze flicks up to meet hers as she stills.
Waiting.
Sudden confidence evaporating, Melissa feels her face warm. Shauna's expression is stern, almost impatient, so the rest comes out in a rush— her voice is tight and her mouth is dry, like the first time she had offered something different and new in the desperate, far-flung hope that Shauna might want it.
"I could— clean those off, at least. If you wanted."
And Shauna is curious. She might not say it, but Melissa can tell, because she knows the look, subtle as it is.
Please, please, please.
"...with my mouth," she says helpfully when Shauna doesn't answer right away, and Shauna exhales sharply through her nose.
"Yeah," she replies, sounding almost exasperated, but not quite. "I got it, thanks."
She seems to be considering, at least.
It's not a no, Melissa tells herself, and just a heartbeat later, much more promisingly, Shauna says:
"...Alright. C'mere."
So Mel does.
Obviously.
So, once again, she's staring at Melissa's lips with no idea what comes next.
Melissa had offered, so really, that should put the onus on Melissa to follow through— not Shauna— but it looks like Shauna still has to get them there anyway, so:
Deep breath.
Shauna brings her still-slick fingers up to Mel’s lips, heart leaping into her throat as Melissa lets them in. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t shy away, just lets Shauna slip inside to the knuckle like it’s nothing, like she always does, and Shauna’s first thought is jesus fucking christ.
She mutters the words aloud without thinking, just to alleviate some of the insane pressure in her chest. Is she holding her breath? Since when? And then Melissa’s eyes are flickering open to look at her in response, blue almost entirely overtaken by the black of her pupils.
She’d found Mel’s mouth hot and wet and inviting before, even without those eyes gazing up at her.
Now, she’s thinking it’s not so different from her cunt.
She’s never thought about it like that before, but she sure is thinking about it now, breath catching in her throat as Mel closes her eyes and gives her fingertips a tentative kitten lick.
Shauna can’t take her eyes off her.
This is insane.
This is out of control.
Something has to give, and it sure as hell won’t be her.
She doesn't really think about it. It's the same method, tried and true, becoming a bit of a hallmark of her relationship with Melissa: If she doesn't give herself time to think, then she has no time to second guess herself either. It's better for both of them that way, and Melissa seems to like it, so.
Shauna reaches up with her free hand to grasp Melissa's chin, gaze flicking down to her lips, and husks:
"Stay still."
Mel freezes. Good.
Heart thundering in her chest, she lets herself slip a bit deeper. She ghosts the pads of her fingers along Melissa's tongue, feels the way the touch makes her swallow down a fresh wave of spit, and takes a deep, ragged breath to steady herself.
What the fuck.
She hadn't expected this to effect her so deeply. Melissa swallows again, more out of habit than need, and the way her tongue rolls against the underside of Shauna's fingers with the motion nearly stops Shauna's heart.
…Perhaps even more concerningly, the feeling goes straight to her cunt, a tug of arousal so strong she has to bite back something startlingly close to a whine.
God. Is she really this pathetic?
She runs her fingers over Mel's molars to distract from the thought, feels a hot puff of breath from Mel's nose flutter out over the back of her hand in response, and shudders despite herself.
It's not pathetic to want someone again.
A quiet voice, almost chiding, and suddenly it's Shauna's turn to swallow thickly around sensation: Jackie Taylor, caught in her throat like glass.
Swallowing doesn't help, of course.
Nothing does.
Shauna snarls. Diverts.
"Have you been thinking about this?" she demands, searching Mel's face in place of searching her own heart— it's so easy when Mel looks at her the way she's looking at her right now. "I've caught you looking."
Mel doesn't argue, doesn't protest. Sometimes, Shauna swears it's the best thing about her.
She just whines, a soft mhm sound that vibrates against Shauna's fingers as she rocks her hips thoughtlessly into the bed, and Shauna draws her fingers back in response, hot and slick with spit. Not all the way: Just enough to appreciate the way the night air cools them, the way Melissa's lips close behind them ever so slightly as they threaten to leave.
Then she presses back in, transfixed.
Mel sucks, tongue flickering shamelessly between her fingers like flame, and so what if Jackie is right— so what if Shauna wants this?
They're never going home.
“C’mere,” she growls, free hand dropping down to grope at Mel’s waist, and Mel doesn’t need any more prompting than that. She slides into Shauna’s lap all too eagerly, and it’s so easy to slot a thigh between her naked legs— it isn’t even fully intentional, Shauna tells herself, but it makes Mel buckle all the same, twitching into the pressure and keening around Shauna’s probing fingers.
Shauna thinks, distantly, so much for not making a mess of my pants. She can feel the heat of Mel’s cunt through the sweats, hot and impossible to ignore the longer she spends pressed to Shauna’s thigh.
It’s— kind of incredible, really.
She grasps Mel’s waist just that much tighter in response. She can’t help herself.
”This is what you wanted,” she breathes, a hint of awe slipping into her tone, because suddenly she is certain of it as her fingers feel along Mel’s jaw from the inside. “You wanted this.”
Mel may not answer with words, but she doesn’t need to. The way her tongue laves hungrily over Shauna’s wandering fingers and the twitch of the hips in her lap is all the answer she really needs.
"You're crazy," she husks, acutely and uncomfortably aware this time that she has no ground to stand on, because Melissa may be lapping at her fingers, but Shauna is the one still working them languidly inside her mouth. It doesn't matter— none of it matters— she touches anything and everything Melissa will allow, catching her wandering tongue between her fingers and reveling in the way it makes Melissa's hips twitch and roll against the pressure of her thigh, the soft, quite frankly obscene whine that vibrates around her fingers in response.
When Melissa breaks the seal of her lips just to gasp, a soft pant of Shauna when her tongue is released, she has to blink away the spots in her vision.
Fucking crazy.
She draws her fingers back, slips them free, transfixed by the thin line of Melissa's spit that still connects them— how it catches the firelight, how Mel's lips gleam with how hard she's been working to keep Shauna slick.
"...Thought you were meant to be cleaning these," Shauna rasps— she isn't sure what else to say— and there's no excuse for the husk in her voice this time. She knows it.
She's all out of excuses.
Fuck it.
Melissa's eyes flutter open, down to those shining fingers between them, and she licks her lips. Shauna can actually see the gears turning: Melissa looking for something smart to say in response, something cute or endearing even as her hips keep rocking mindless little circles against Shauna's thigh.
It's fucking ridiculous.
Shauna kisses her.
Just as suddenly, everything blurs together.
Heat against her thigh, a warm body in her arms again— when was the last time? Melissa, draping her arms over Shauna's shoulders, bunching up plaid in a white-knuckle grip, and Shauna, barely having time to think:
Has it ever been like this before? Will it ever be the same again?
Because she can taste Melissa, a faint, salty tang on the chapped lips moving so hotly against her own— like breathing, like instinct— and if she closes her eyes, she can still see the after-image of exactly how that taste had gotten there.
For now, it doesn't feel like a bad thing. Distantly, a bit bitterly, Shauna thinks Melissa's lips wrapped around her fingers has got the usual slideshow of horror beaten by a fucking landslide, so.
…So when Mel groans into her mouth, hot and heavy, Shauna nips her bottom lip, brushing their noses together. When her hips stutter in their rhythm, Shauna paws at them roughly to get them back on track, one hand straying upwards to palm mindlessly at a perfectly handful-sized tit. And when Melissa breaks away from the kiss to pant for breath in response to the touch, tucking her chin over Shauna's shoulder, Shauna buries her face against Melissa's neck and does the only thing left she can stand.
She bites, and Melissa's whole body rocks in her arms, a sound like a sob tearing out of her as teeth sink in.
Just like that, Shauna never wants to let go of her. Some wild, animal part of her wants to shake, like a wolf with a rabbit— to hear Mel squeal, feel her go limp, your fault, all you're good at— but she bites down on the ugly thought just as quickly as it arises, chews, and swallows it down like everything else.
Shauna tightens her jaw instead, and Melissa keens, pulse thundering against her tongue.
She can be good at this, too.
"You're close," she pants when she finally draws back, releasing the bite and admiring her work, already bruising in the dim candlelight. The words are a statement, not a question, and she feels Melissa nod against her shoulder, the almost frantic little confirmation enough to make something like pride warm her chest.
She wants this for Mel, wants to be the one who causes it, this time and every time after.
...And if the sound that follows, the desperate little whine of Shauna, please as she reaches down to steady Mel's hips again has a similar feeling pooling hotly between her own legs, then so be it.
Maybe she wants it for herself, too.
The thought is a dizzying one, so she tries not to dwell on it.
"Good," she half-gasps, half-whispers, feeling like someone has knocked all the air from her lungs as Mel's grip on her flannel tightens impossibly. "That's good, just keep— keep doing that. You've got it—"
She's running her mouth again and she knows it, just like that very first time, but fuck, it could have been like this from the beginning. She could have had this if she'd known how to ask, if she'd known she had wanted it in the fucking first place, and it aches, but there's no use mourning that now. She'll take what she can get, and as always, there's Melissa, so ready and eager to give it.
Murmuring mindless encouragement, Shauna wraps her arms around Mel's middle and holds her tight as she shakes apart.
She thinks maybe, just maybe, she can still have this. Maybe it isn't too late.
Maybe, Melissa won't break after all.
It feels good to ease Melissa down the same way she'd worked her up. It's almost startling. She doesn't normally, too lost in her own thoughts to let herself enjoy much of anything in the immediate aftermath, but this...
Mel nestles closer, nosing into her neck, and Shauna strokes idly up and down her spine, fascinated by the little aftershocks that rock her.
Has it always been like this? She doesn't think so, but that doesn't change the way it is now. They sit there a while, Shauna petting and Melissa clinging, and it's— nice.
When Melissa finally moves to start disentangling herself, it's all Shauna has left to clear her throat, mind hazy and thoughts muddled. "Thanks," she says a little bit breathlessly, because it's what she's grown accustomed to saying when Melissa draws back, but even that feels strange, different somehow. Belatedly, the revelation comes: Mouth dry, skin running hot, clothes suddenly too tight, there is absolutely nothing else about this situation that Shauna finds familiar.
She's lost the script. Maybe she'd never had it in the first place.
"Yeah," Melissa says a bit breathlessly too, that stupid, effortless little smile on her lips, because that's what she's taken to saying in response to thanks, and Shauna thinks: Oh, thank god.
Relief. Because Shauna doesn't need the script. Melissa's got it fucking memorized.
"...Yeah," Melissa says again, "no problem. That was great."
Even now, even as she sits back heavily on Shauna's bedding, those bright blue eyes sweep over her appreciatively, and Shauna can't help the way she straightens up slightly under their scrutiny. It isn't intentional— it's just that she can feel her heartbeat in her cunt, and Melissa has always looked at her like a meal in the afterglow, but tonight, she finally fucking feels like one.
Melissa takes a deep breath. Shauna takes one too.
Then Mel reaches for her boxers, sprawling out across the bed gracelessly to get them off the makeshift rug, and Shauna thinks:
Wait, what?
"Are you gonna do more journaling tonight, or are you wiped?" Melissa asks conversationally as she tugs them back on, and oh fuck, Shauna remembers.
Fuck.
"What?" she asks intellectually, because it's all she can get out at first that isn't oh my god or fuck my life or fuck me.
(That last one might actually help, but she still can't say it. Pride and all— whatever she's got left of it, anyway.)
Then, with a bit more presence of mind:
"No, no journaling tonight. I don't have..."
Anything to write about? Not quite. A single coherent thought in her fucking head? Closer to the mark at least, even if not completely true. Gesturing vaguely to Melissa's neck, she settles:
"Sorry about, uh... That."
Melissa waves off the apology with an even broader grin.
"Oh, please. Like it's the worst thing you've done to me," she says, rolling over languidly, and it's true, but— "It was hot. You should do it more, just— maybe not in the same spot until this one's gone. I feel like that would hurt like a bitch. Not in a fun way."
Right again, Shauna thinks, and then, looping back around: It was hot. You should do it more.
It was. And she wants to.
She hums.
Melissa's giving her a look now. A strange one.
Shit.
"Just thinking," she says, because it's true and it's easy to say. When isn't she thinking?
When she'd snapped at Melissa to stop asking, for one. Fuck.
"Riiight," Melissa says, drawing out the i a bit, but even then, Shauna knows— she knows Melissa isn't fucking with her, knows she isn't actually messing around. Stupid, chivalrous Melissa, who had taken off her hat for Natalie at her coronation, who has only ever wanted to make Shauna feel good, who has stopped fucking asking if she can because Shauna had told her to knock it off an hour and a half ago like some kind of idiot.
Melissa, who is giving her that funny look again, and asking something else now:
"Come to bed, then?"
Fuck. Fuck.
Mouth still dry, Shauna nods.
They go to fucking bed.
The next day, Shauna makes herself almost impossible to be around for anyone that isn’t Melissa.
It would almost be sweet, if she would just tell Mel what was wrong.
But she won’t. Doesn’t.
Shauna snaps at the slightest provocations, imagined or otherwise— always first to scoff, first to snarl, first to escalate, even when it’s completely fucking uncalled for as Tai puts it, and if they're being honest, that's most of the time.
And maybe Mel is crazy, but she’s always been kind of into that, so.
She sticks around.
But even for Melissa, it still takes time to work up the nerve to ask Shauna much of anything when she's like this. When lunchtime rolls around, when it's just her and Shauna at the butcher's block in not-quite-amicable-because-Shauna-is-miserable silence, she finally decides to test her luck:
"Did someone say something?"
Because there had been about an hour and a half this morning where they hadn't been attached at the hip, where Mel had been down at the stream washing up and Shauna had been doing— well, Melissa isn't really sure, Shauna stuff— and she thinks that maybe that had been enough time for someone to piss Shauna off unsupervised.
Or, well, not entirely unsupervised, or Melissa thinks they'd probably all have much bigger problems right now, but—
"No," Shauna is saying, and she's saying it in the tone she reserves for stupid questions: Jesus christ, Shauna, did you spit in her soup? "No, nobody— said anything. What would they even say?"
Except Shauna had spit in Mari's soup— Melissa knows because she'd watched her do it.
"I don't know," she replies conversationally, cool under fire, and sneaks a sidelong glance at Shauna only when she knows it will go unnoticed, a skill of hers: When Shauna slides her four slabs of neatly-trimmed venison to portion out and turns her attention to quartering the next batch, Melissa looks. "That we're loud, or something? Tai and Van have been giving me looks all day—"
That gets a reaction.
Shauna's gaze is quick to snap to her, and Melissa is quick to avert her own wandering eyes, lifting her hands in mock surrender as Shauna hisses at her:
"We're not— loud."
Still not looking at Shauna in a carefully calculated display of deference, Melissa tilts her head, lifts her brows in a way that says: Really?
And Shauna relents, eyes rolling and lips pressing into a thin, dissatisfied line as she huffs a heavy breath from her nose. She returns her attention to the meat in front of her, dismissing Melissa with a vague gesture from her knife hand as she carries on far more conversationally:
"...You're loud. You're always loud. And you've got a giant fucking—"
Hesitation, and is Melissa hallucinating, or is that warmth in Shauna's cheeks?
Another slightly huffy gesture with the knife in her direction— Mel has learned not to flinch— and Shauna continues a bit more quietly:
"—bite mark on your neck. Of course they're giving you looks, it's fucking weird."
Yeah, Mel thinks, but you put it there, so.
"I guess," she says instead, because Shauna's not the only one who can talk in circles— Melissa's just not quite as eloquent about it. She turns her attention back to her work as well, because in her experience, the less she can appear to care about these next words the better: "It's just— you've been on edge all morning, so I thought I'd ask."
And now Melissa steals a look, just in time to watch Shauna's jaw tick, her dark brows furrowing.
But Shauna doesn't look up from the meat she's trimming. She doesn't even answer, so Melissa lets the silence hang between them. It's usually better that way. Either Shauna will spit out what she's thinking, or Melissa can recalibrate and take a different approach once the silence becomes unbearable.
Chop. Chop. Chop.
Shauna's hands are methodical, practiced, and as Mel finishes her own task and waits for Shauna to slide her more meat, she finds herself watching them.
What's not to like?
Unbearable silence it is then. Fine.
"You know," Melissa starts conversationally, breaking it, "if something's wrong, you can tell me. I won't tell anybody else, and maybe— I don't know. Maybe I could help."
Shauna's looking at her now, long and hard, like she's thinking. She's always fucking thinking, but—
"Thanks," she says a bit haltingly, clearing her throat and shaking her head as she glances back down to the meat in front of her. "Yeah, no, I know. I appreciate it."
And just like that, Shauna goes back to cutting up lunch.
Needless to say, she doesn't tell Melissa shit.
That night is different.
Not good different— weird different.
Shauna takes her to bed early, but nothing comes of it. She drags Melissa inside, looks her over intently, and then—
Nothing.
She looks for a while too, Melissa too curious, too eager to say anything, but then she just— huffs, whatever spell she'd been under seeming to break.
Shauna turns her back to change, like she always does, and then—
She just— goes to bed.
No fucking. No journaling.
Just— nothing.
Mel's brain is still catching up by the time Shauna's body hits their blankets. She'd been ogling a bit while Shauna changed, because who wouldn't, because she always does, but Shauna clearly isn't interested tonight, so.
Whatever.
Maybe she really needs the sleep.
(The next day, Shauna is back to normal. Melissa doesn't question it.)
"Hey," Shauna greets quietly while Mel is helping wash up after dinner, brushing up against her shoulder from behind like a cat and nearly startling her half to death. "Can we go somewhere?"
Melissa knows that tone, recognizes its softness, and almost swallows her tongue.
"Yeah," she says without thinking, a bit strangled, because when was the last time she'd heard Shauna sound so vulnerable? Down by the river, probably, when she'd asked Melissa why she even liked her— so this must be serious— which means she's tripping over her words almost instantly, a matter of course. "Totally, I just gotta—" a vague gesture, dish still in hand, "I mean, the dishes, Mari'll kill me if I leave them again—"
A hand on her shoulder, and suddenly she's being spun around fully, face to face with Shauna, and Shauna is saying:
"Melissa?"
Like she's stupid, like she hadn't heard, like she's not paying attention, but oh, Melissa is paying so much attention as Shauna searches her face it's fucking crazy, actually:
"Fuck the dishes."
Then, almost as an afterthought, like she can't believe what she's hearing as her face scrunches up in exasperation:
"And fuck Mari."
Reasonable.
The same hand Shauna had used to spin her around trails down her arm now, taking Melissa's hand and giving it a squeeze as Shauna implores:
"...C'mon, let's go."
So much for the shared responsibility of communal living or whatever Nat had called it last time Mari went whining to anyone who would listen— those words had sounded more like Misty's than Natalie's anyway.
Fuck the dishes, and fuck Mari, and fuck Nat and Misty too just for good measure, because she might as well commit at this point.
Melissa goes.
When she realizes Shauna is leading her down to the stream, it catches her off balance.
They haven't been down there at dusk in ages— not since Coach, not since they had stopped dancing circles around each other in the woods like mayflies in general— and Mel can tell by Shauna's body language as she stalks on ahead that she isn't the only one feeling the tension.
Or maybe just feeling tense in general.
Shauna likes to think she's inscrutable— to Melissa, she isn't quite— but at times like this, Melissa thinks it might be better for her resting heart rate if she were.
She fidgets all the way there, unable to help herself as she follows tightly behind Shauna— picking non-existent dirt from beneath her nails, worrying a loose thread on the hem of her shirt even though she knows she shouldn't— anything to steady herself, because whatever Shauna is leading her out here to do, it's not something that can be done in the village, so yeah.
Tension.
And excitement.
When Shauna comes up short, Melissa nearly walks right into the back of her, too lost in her own thoughts to notice she's stopped. There's some cursing— a hiss of watch it as Shauna catches her, helps her keep her balance in the aftermath— but Shauna is blushing, and Melissa is all out of room for her own embarrassment, because since when is Shauna blushing?
And why?
At Melissa's wide-eyed expression, Shauna releases her steadying grip like she's been burned.
Melissa, with nothing better to do with them, stuffs her hands into her pockets.
"So," she says after a moment, because the blush has faded, but Shauna is still looking at her strangely, "what's up?"
Shauna takes a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest.
Okay. Serious then.
Melissa watches as Shauna wets her lips, eyes wandering the entire clearing before they finally land on her again. And then— finally, and in the same exasperated tone as someone with no choice left but to tell the truth and utterly displeased about it— Shauna uncrosses her arms and says:
"I want to sit on your face. I've been— thinking about it."
And then, when Melissa doesn't answer right away, irritably:
"Melissa? Hello?"
She won't make Shauna say it twice, of course— she's already nodding eagerly, moving silently as she gropes around blindly for something to say and comes up short. It's not that she isn't excited— not that she doesn't want to answer out loud— it's just that she also feels like she might be about to faint, and that wouldn't be great, so it's all hands on deck to get that under control with her extremely limited brainpower before she can actually speak.
"Okay," Shauna is saying, and she's running a hand through her own hair, combing it back and away from her face. "Great. Cool. It doesn't have to be a thing, or whatever, I just—"
"Totally not a thing!" Melissa half-gasps, half-yelps, because her brain has finally caught up at last and she's fucking ecstatic. "Totally not a thing. I'll do it— yes— totally. When? Now?"
"...That was the idea bringing you all the way out here, yeah," Shauna grouses, that same exasperation creeping into her tone again— like she can't believe Melissa is asking, like she can't believe she has to say it, like it's pissing her off that she does, but—
Melissa doesn't care. This is the best night of her life.
"Fuck yes," she breathes, still grinning ear to ear, and Shauna can roll her eyes in response all night if that's what makes her feel better, because Melissa is still taking her hat off, and they're still fucking doing this. She wrings the tired old thing between her hands once for good luck— she knows it's not good for it, but doesn't care— and then sets it down on a nearby log, eyes never actually leaving Shauna. "...So, full disclosure, I've never actually done this before, but—"
"Me neither," Shauna says tersely, cutting her off, feeling the back of her neck warm even as she tries to rub the feeling away with her hand. "It's okay. Just— take your shirt off, and come here."
I really want to touch you.
And christ, Melissa's already got it half way over her head, because of course she does.
When they finally come crashing together, Mel's kisses are ravenous. Shauna wonders where this Melissa has been hiding the past few weeks, the one slipping her tongue past Shauna's lips and grabbing at her hips and her ass and everything she can reach, and then she realizes.
Nice one, Shipman.
It doesn't even sting, because Mel's hands are wandering up under her shirt, smoothing over her stomach and playing with the idea of wandering higher, and just as suddenly, Shauna is panting:
"Stop."
Melissa stops, hands freezing where they are, but she doesn't draw away. Perfect.
Lips still close enough to feel Melissa's unsteady breath, Shauna brushes their noses together, closing her eyes and swallowing nervously. Voice as steady as she can manage given the circumstance, hands ghosting over Melissa's hips, she rasps:
"Good. Now take off my shirt."
It feels insane to say the words out loud, but the rush when Melissa actually starts doing it without question is like nothing she's ever felt before, so.
Worth it.
Because Melissa is looking at her like she put the stars in the sky, and she hasn't even seen Shauna's tits yet.
Shauna reaches back to unclip her beat up, worn-to-shit old bra, and Melissa swears the sight of it sliding down her shoulders before Shauna fully shrugs it off is the best thing she's ever seen, or—
The best thing she's ever seen until it's finally off, because finally, she's got Shauna's tits in front of her and she's actually allowed to look. Shauna wants her to. No more stealing glances in the locker room, or down by the stream, or while Shauna changes at night and they both pretend Melissa isn't looking. This is real, and Shauna wants her.
Mel could scream.
She kisses Shauna instead, because that's a much more reasonable response, and the warmth where their bodies meet is the closest she thinks she's ever getting to heaven. Her hands wander up, over Shauna's hips, over her tits, and Shauna Shipman whines into her mouth, the same teeth that had drawn Mari's blood coming down on Melissa's bottom lip to stifle the sound as best she can, so—
Yeah. Heaven.
"You look so fucking hot right now," Mel groans when Shauna releases her from the kiss, so desperate and wild that the words almost sound like a complaint as she feels Shauna up. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."
"Shut up," Shauna breathes between kisses, face running hot, so Melissa does. Better uses for her mouth anyway, like swallowing up every involuntary little gasp and groan Shauna has to offer as she finds the courage to get a little more handsy. She brushes the pads of her thumbs over Shauna's nipples, slightly chapped from that tired old bra— slips her tongue past Shauna's lips again to lap up the sound she makes when Mel's hands get a little bit more daring, when she gives those nipples a pinch, tests the waters with a little pull.
If the way Shauna's hips rock into her as if yanked by some invisible thread is any indication, it's safe to say Shauna likes both, so.
Fuck yes.
Mel repeats the motion: Again and again, feeling the way Shauna pebbles up between her fingertips and thinking that if Shauna wanted her to do this (and only this) for the rest of her life, then she would do it gladly. Shauna's hands on her hips, holding her close— Shauna's hands feeling their way up her bare back, Shauna's hands on her shoulders.
One of Shauna's hands cupping the back of her neck, that same hand sliding up to tangle in her hair, grip tight and close to Mel's scalp.
Shauna using that grip to tug Melissa back, away from her lips: And Melissa goes where Shauna leads, always, lips parted and blue eyes alight.
Shauna studies her face for a long moment, dark eyes ravenous, and then:
"Kiss my neck," she orders, soft and out of breath but still so very hungry, so Melissa does.
Dipping lower, feeling Shauna's grip tighten as she goes, Mel noses past the tickling locks that cascade down around Shauna's shoulders to expose her. Then, without really thinking about it, she does what feels right: She licks a hot, wet stripe up Shauna's neck from collar to ear, tasting sweat and feeling the groan that Shauna fails to catch vibrate against her tongue.
Jesus christ. That's not fucking kissing, Melissa.
Though Shauna almost buckles under that first touch, she doesn't drag Melissa away, doesn't put a stop to it as Mel starts to nip and lick and bite— because it's better than kissing, better than Jeff's dry, incurious lips on her neck while she holds his weird fucking erection hostage to her own needs and tries not to think about the way it keeps poking her in the stomach. By comparison, it's like Melissa knows intuitively just what Shauna actually wants— she doesn't really have to ask for it, but she still does, because as it turns out, watching Melissa follow orders feels even better than giving them.
Right now, with Mel's teeth scraping lightly over her thundering pulse, with her calloused hands kneading at her tits like she never, ever wants to let go of them, Shauna is suddenly, vibrantly aware of about a hundred different places on her body where she would rather have that hot, wet, maddeningly obedient mouth.
"Stop," she rasps, and Melissa stops.
By the grip she has on her hair, Shauna drags Melissa away, and Mel just— allows herself to be led.
It's fucking incredible.
"Lie down," she huffs, letting go of Melissa and reaching up to run her fingers through her own hair, brushing it out of her face.
Too much?
Maybe, because whether it's the result of Melissa's brain stalling or something else entirely, Mel finally seems to be hesitating.
Fuck. Fuck.
Shauna licks her lips, swallowing thickly as she struggles to recalibrate. Her brain feels like hot fuzz, a mix of desire and mounting dread so thick and heavy that she struggles to wade through it. Maybe it's because they're both still standing— should she have waited on the order? Maybe she just needs to get Melissa down onto her knees first— that shouldn't be much of a challenge, she thinks she can handle that, but—
Maybe she doesn't need to.
Because finally, finally, Melissa is back in the land of the living. Shauna knows it's only been a few seconds— maybe two, or three, four if she's being really generous— but fuck, that moment of uncertainty had felt like a goddamn year.
And maybe it's a bit odd just how thrilling Shauna finds the stupid little blush on Melissa's face as she finally starts moving, her head on a swivel as she looks for somewhere even remotely comfortable to lie down— but also, Shauna's already reaching for the drawstring of her sweatpants, so.
Melissa catches the movement out of the corner of her eye and freezes. She can't help it— heart leaping into her throat, blood rushing in her ears, what Shauna says when she notices her looking doesn't help at all with the already almost dizzying wave of arousal crashing down on her. Tugging loose the last knot in the string without even looking, Shauna rolls her eyes, hooking a thumb in her waistband and asking— as if Melissa is the dumbest person she's ever met—
"Well? Do you want it or not? I said lie down."
Mel wants it— Mel wants it so fucking bad she thinks she'd probably fucking bark if that was what Shauna was asking her to do— so she stops worrying about finding a comfortable spot and just lies the fuck down like she's told.
It probably shouldn't even be sexy, what with the face Melissa makes and the little yelp as a stick digs in between her shoulders, forcing her to adjust her weight— but it's one of the most exciting things Shauna's ever seen, whatever that says about her.
Oh well.
Melissa wishes she had the self control to keep from whining when Shauna finally tugs off her pants and straddles her chest, but she doesn't. Shauna is just so close— even in the dim light, Mel can see everything, from the curly dark hair peeking out along the edges of her underwear to the almost silvery sheen of the stretchmarks that still decorate her toned abdomen.
Shauna is soft but lean, a well-fed and well-muscled predator that has, for the most part, learned to masquerade as a real girl. For all its mindless cruelty, Melissa thinks the Wilderness has been kind to her in other ways: A butcher's choice of only the finest cuts to pad out her muscle, and the kind of casual, cruel confidence that only comes with experience and has always lit Mel up like wildfire. She doesn't think there's anything about Shauna she would ever even consider calling casual, aside from her cruelty, but that's fine.
Melissa is fucking obsessed with her.
She runs her hands up and down Shauna's thighs, appreciative, awestruck— but most of all tongue-tied, and it doesn't seem like Shauna's going to help her out any time soon, gazing down at her with dark, hungry eyes and seemingly content to bask in Melissa's attention.
Or maybe that's just what Melissa tells herself. Maybe they both need to catch their breath for a moment. This is— a lot.
Finally, licking her lips and swallowing roughly, Melissa finds her voice, face warming slightly with the words:
"Your, uhm—" and one of her thumbs dips beneath the tired old hem that rests along Shauna's inner thigh, "—underwear?"
Just as suddenly it's Shauna's turn to blush, dark brows furrowing and face screwing up as she fumbles.
"Shit. Right, uhm—"
Then comes the shuffling, the stilted and awkward dance for two until Shauna finally manages to get them off and toss them aside with a little help from Mel.
Melissa likes what she sees even more once that's done with. She's glad she's already lying down— Shauna is petting her hair, a self-soothing gesture that she thinks doubles nicely as affection— and Melissa closes her eyes, dizzy again.
Because she can smell Shauna, and she smells so fucking good. Warm, and inviting, and Mel bites her bottom lip, eyes flickering wide open in a sudden panic. Heart hammering in her chest, mouth dry, she blinks up at Shauna, and the words come tumbling out:
"Fuck, I— what if I'm bad at it? I've only seen this in— in pornos, and they don't— it's not like you can see what's going on, and I'm pretty sure it's all fake anyway, and—"
"Melissa."
Shauna's hand, tightening in her hair, and Mel blinks again, panting to catch her breath in the wake of the sudden outburst.
Shauna is looking at her, really looking, a blush dusting her cheeks and an expression nothing like what Mel had anticipated on her face. She looks hungry, curious, but that look is quickly replaced by one of vaguely uncomfortable but good-natured exasperation the moment she has Mel's attention.
"...You'll be fine," she reassures awkwardly, brows knitting together— and of course, there's the little roll of her eyes to emphasize the words that she's never been able to resist for as long as Melissa has known her.
(Mel forgives it, because kindness has never come easily to Shauna, and she knows it's the best she can do.)
"I just— really want to try this, okay?" Shauna is carding her fingers through Melissa's hair again, and her voice is level and shockingly well put together, all the way down to the slight, calculated whine that slips into it towards the end: Like she's trying to gently guilt Mel into sharing her math homework, not asking to sit on her fucking face. "You don't have to be... Good at it, or whatever. I just want to try."
And fuck, just— fuck.
How could Melissa ever say no?
Taking a deep breath, offering a sheepish little smile, she nods, hands flexing and relaxing on Shauna's thighs.
"...Yeah, okay. You're right— sounds good. I wanna try too, let's— let's just try."
Because nerves aside, she's never been more excited in her fucking life.
Go time.
"Cool," Shauna says, and she's got that transparent, trying-not-to-smirk look on her face that Mel has long since learned to recognize: Smug, and most obvious in her eyebrows. "Ready?"
Which is actually a very considerate thing for Shauna to ask, given the circumstance, and the conversation they'd literally just had about nerves— except Mel's nerves are gone now, have been for a bit, and she's been back to wanting Shauna so bad she feels like she can barely breathe for the last couple minutes, actually.
So with a tilt of her weight and a change in her grip, Melissa knocks Shauna off balance just enough to make her hitch herself forward in the process of recovery, knees settling on either side of Mel's head and thighs threatening to close around her ears.
Nose brushing up against the damp curls between Shauna's legs, now Mel really feels like she can't breathe, so thrilled with the maneuver's success that she doesn't know what to do with herself— and Shauna is gasping out fuck! somewhere above her, one hand finding its way back to Melissa's hair now that she no longer needs both to keep herself from falling forward.
"Lunatic!" Shauna is hissing, but her scolding tone is undercut by the way Mel's warm breath keeps feathering out over her soaked cunt and making her shiver: "I could have crushed you!"
Oh no, Melissa thinks, grinning like an idiot and closing her eyes as she noses up into Shauna's curls.
...Except that puts a weird strain on the back of her neck— not a great feeling— so she adjusts, leveraging her grip on Shauna's hips to try to get her to sink down.
And blissfully, grip tightening in Melissa's hair, Shauna gets the memo.
Mel can't help but groan as Shauna slicks her hotly, nose to chin— and Shauna nearly buckles again as the sound vibrates up through her entire body, panting and catching herself on her own little moan of approval.
"...Okay," she pants once she feels like she can breathe again, and in the time it had taken for her to gather herself, nothing has been lost: Melissa is currently occupying herself by pressing soft, hot kisses into the crease of one of Shauna's inner thighs while she waits for Shauna to come around, which feels nice, and jesus christ, when had Melissa opened her eyes?
She looks so— patient.
"Okay," Shauna repeats slowly, feeling a little less insane this time, and just that much warmer inside as she meets Mel's hazy gaze and pets her ridiculously blond head. "Okay. Just… Go slow."
Because Shauna had asked for this— but she's thinking maybe, just maybe she can still find a way to get through it without completely losing her fucking mind.
Maybe.
But probably not, if she's being honest with herself.
Fuck.
Melissa goes slow.
Shauna tastes just as good as Melissa has always hoped that she would, and she's done more than her fair share of imagining. Drinking her down, lapping her up, it takes Mel a couple of tries to get it right— to find an angle where she can get at what she wants, let Shauna use her, and still be able to breathe— but god is it fucking worth it. Shauna opens up to her so easily, every swipe of Mel's tongue another gasp, another shudder as Melissa tests and tastes. She coats her lips, her mouth, her throat when she swallows, and Melissa wants to drown in in her: When the taste starts to fade, Mel resolves to chase it, blunt nails digging crescent moons into Shauna's twitching hips and thighs as she drags her down and dips in deep with her tongue.
Shauna's whole body rocks in response, a perfect, strangled noise punching out of her that makes her clap a hand over her own mouth just a moment too late. Mel, on the other hand, tilts her head back just in time— she can think of no other way on earth that she would rather break her nose if she had to, but she'd rather not break it tonight, so. Lesson learned.
Slow. She goes slow.
Firm, steady strokes of her tongue along Shauna's entrance, reveling in the hand that Shauna keeps tangled in her hair— the way she can feel Shauna's insides squeeze down around nothing against her tongue with every pass, quiet sighs and shockingly gentle sounds that Shauna can't seem to help spilling out from somewhere above her the longer Melissa goes on. Beginner's luck sees her moving on before her jaw begins to cramp, swiping up to lap gentle, curious circles over Shauna's clit, and that gets a reaction almost right away, so Mel knows she must be doing something right.
Melissa opens her eyes only to find that Shauna's are shut. And god, she's so fucking pretty—
"Lower," Shauna pants, voice strained and shoulders blotchy with blush, so obediently, Melissa goes lower.
Shauna sucks in a gasp, hips twitching away like a flinch.
"Shit— too much, a little, uhm, less—"
And Melissa eases off slightly, watching Shauna's expression relax and feeling an undeniable flutter of pride in her chest as Shauna settles back down on top of her, back to feeling good.
Because she might not be experienced— and she might not be good at this yet, strictly speaking— but she's consistent, and she knows how to listen, and the longer she spends between Shauna's legs, the more certain she becomes that those are the first two steps towards all that other stuff anyway. Still watching Shauna's face, still working steadily between her thighs, Melissa rubs gentle circles into the dip of Shauna's hip with the pad of her thumb, keeping time with the languid circles of her tongue.
It isn't long before Shauna is shuddering again, biting back a groan and breathing out:
"A little higher."
This time, Mel takes her cues directly from Shauna's body, not just her words. Lower hadn't really meant lower after all, not exactly— it had just been the best Shauna could do. So in that case, higher, no, a little higher—
The change is almost imperceptible, but apparently it's everything to the girl on top of her. Shauna's grips twists ruthlessly in Melissa's hair, so close and tight to her scalp that tears spring to Mel's eyes even as she screws them shut and groans into Shauna's cunt.
"Fuck, Melissa, that's— right there. Don't stop."
She doesn't intend to.
Because it isn't long at all before Shauna's hips are canting into her mouth with every little press of her tongue, and not even the hand Shauna has clamped over her own mouth again is enough to fully quiet the panting, animal sounds spilling out of her now. Melissa watches her give up on that hopeless endeavour, feels her slouch and realizes what's happening a moment too late— Shauna leans forward, bracing herself by planting her newly free hand firmly in the dirt somewhere over Melissa's head, and just like that, Melissa can't breathe again.
She almost panics, but—
"Oh god, Mel…"
Shauna sounds frantic. Her thighs are trembling around Melissa's ears as she grinds shamelessly against Melissa's tongue, Melissa's lips, Melissa's whole fucking face, and she's calling Melissa Mel, so—
Nope, Melissa thinks, fuck it. She doesn't actually need to breathe. She's an elite fucking athlete, and what she needs right now more than anything she's ever needed in her entire life is to make Shauna come, and hear her call her Mel while she does it.
And that's what she's going to get.
Melissa closes her eyes, giving in to what Shauna wants from her instead of fighting it, and it's better than breathing. Her lungs burn, and her head spins, but it still feels right to open her mouth just a little bit wider— still feels good to press her tongue just that much flatter against the heat between Shauna's thighs, less certain by the moment where she ends and Shauna begins. Her face is wet with both of them, her spit and Shauna's slick indistinguishable from one another— Melissa groans, wasting precious oxygen and caring little as she feels their combined mess roll down along the line of her jaw, hot and wet and dizzying.
Lost to the world, or at least lost to Melissa, Shauna seems content to ride her into the fucking ground if it means getting what she wants now— and Melissa is content to let her, both of them heedless of the paroxysmal spasms starting up in Mel's chest.
Because Melissa doesn't want to struggle, is trying so hard not to— and maybe Shauna knows that, appreciates it, or maybe it doesn't matter to her at all.
She's close, grip tight in Melissa's hair, so tight that it aches— and it's the feeling of Melissa's hands scrabbling against her thighs that finishes her, the sheer animal desperation as Melissa struggles not to struggle that tips Shauna over the edge.
Melissa, so obedient, so pliant, and hers. All hers—
"Fuck, Mel!"
Shauna comes with a shudder, her cry nearly swallowed up by the groan that follows, and Melissa barely gets to hear it past the rushing of blood in her ears, the way Shauna's thighs clamp down around them, but she does.
Fuck, Mel! Fuck!
Shauna rides her through it, and just because Melissa can't control the way her legs kick out and her hands scrabble now doesn't mean she doesn't want it— when she finally starts to shove, to push at Shauna instead of just groping helplessly at anything she can reach, Shauna gets the memo, shifting off of her with a breathless huff.
Lightheaded, Melissa pitches over onto her side, dragging in the deepest breath she's ever taken only to cough it up as her lungs scream in protest. You wanted air, not me, she thinks irritably of the coughing fit even as she chokes her way through it, rolling onto her back and closing her eyes in relief as it finally lets up.
She doesn't need to open them to feel the way Shauna is looking at her as she lies there, slowly gasping the breath back into her lungs.
Melissa gives her a double thumbs up, too sluggish to lift her arms, and grins.
Somewhere off to the right of her, Shauna huffs, the sound almost a laugh, and Mel's heart flutters.
So much for worrying she wouldn't be good.
As it turns out, down by the stream is the perfect place to have made such a mess. They don't say much as they clean up, but that's fine— Melissa gets to watch Shauna, and she doesn't even have to feel like a pervert this time.
It's the best.
"So," she starts, once it's really, truly all said and done— once they've gathered up all their clothes from the forest floor, once they're dry and dressed and sitting back by the bank and Shauna is busying herself picking all the scraps of Wilderness out of Melissa's hair as she braids it. It's not like anyone will be awake, not like it matters, but it's— nice. It's a nice gesture. "Was that— was I—"
"It was good," Shauna cuts her off quietly, awkwardly, and Melissa grins, because she'd known that, but it's still nice to hear Shauna say it. A gentle tug on her hair to keep her head straight, and Shauna says: "Stay still, you're making me mess up. I'm almost done."
Shame, Melissa thinks, because she would let Shauna play with her hair all night if Shauna asked, but—
"Don't tell anyone about this."
That makes Melissa turn her head, quick and hard enough to tug her own hair, and Shauna hisses irritably as she's interrupted, but Melissa doesn't care.
"Who would I even tell?"
And Shauna makes a face, a deflection face, a you know face even though Melissa most certainly doesn't fucking know— and she holds it until it becomes clear that Melissa isn't dropping it. Then she rolls her eyes, like Melissa is the crazy one, and huffs:
"I'm just— not ready for everyone to know yet."
Like that helps, and Melissa looks at her like what, because— what?
"About me," Shauna clarifies, sounding irritated now, and Melissa thinks oh.
"Oh," she says, echoing the sentiment, and then, "Yeah. Okay."
Because seriously, what?
Not that it actually matters. If pretending that no one knows Shauna's getting off on getting her off is the weird price Melissa has to pay in exchange for this version of Shauna that says shit like I want to sit on your face and then actually does it, she'll pay it. Gladly.
"I really like you, you know?"
Maybe that's not the right response to the silence from Shauna that had followed, but she's saying it anyway, because she's feeling it, and suddenly Shauna's fingers are freezing in her hair.
Shit. Too much.
"I just mean—"
"No," Shauna interrupts, fingers carding through Melissa's hair again, "you're— good. This is— nice. You don't have to say anything else."
The words are halting, like Shauna doesn't believe her, still. Or like maybe she does, and she's just not ready to say it back. Either way, the message is clear: Stop talking.
So Melissa does.
Still, the words ring in her ears as Shauna finishes her braid and stands, offering a hand to help Melissa to her feet.
You're good. This is nice.
Good. Nice.
And maybe she's an idiot, but Melissa smiles the whole way home.