Chapter Text
The airport was quiet, the sun having long set and the moonlight streaming in from the large, glass windows looking out into the runway. Among the ocean of quiet seats and the soft noise of suitcases rolling against the tile, Rachel fidgeted with the sleeve of her dress, her eyes fixed anxiously on the cold floor.
"Your family won't scare me, Rachel," Christine's voice was soft and reassuring, though loud enough to cut through the soft humming of the quiet airport. "Seriously, if you could meet my dad—"
"It's not… my whole family," Rachel muttered hesitantly, turning her head to give Christine a look. "It's really just my mother." She sighed, her emerald eyes shifting to the ground. Her fear was visible, fingers tugging anxiously at the hem of her dress. Christine's eyes flickered over her form, taking in the deep blue color against her pale, freckled skin.
"I'll survive," Christine reassured with a soft grin, glancing up to meet 's gaze. She leaned up then, pressing her lips to Rachel's cheek with a quick kiss. The kiss lingered there for a moment, before Christine pulled away, looking up at her with big, dark eyes. "You look really pretty though, baby." She mused quietly, sending a wave of heat through Rachel's entire body.
"Thanks, doll," Rachel beamed, her voice matching Christine's in softness. "You sure it's okay that you had to come in your work clothes?"
"Yeah," Christine replied, pulling back to spread out in the small, armed chair, backed against the rows of other seats. The sleeves of her white button-up were rolled up around her elbows, tie loosely undone around her collar. "Do you think—"
The sound of Christine's voice was interrupted by the sound of the intercom, echoing out across the airport.
"Boarding rows twenty-five through fifteen. Twenty-five through fifteen."
"That's us," Rachel hummed nervously, standing up to sling her bag over her shoulder. "We're row twenty-two, right?"
"Mhm," Christine replied, following her lead. "Yeah. Twenty-two."
Stepping out onto the chilly loading dock, Christine and Rachel tugged their luggage up and paused by their row to load it. Christine stood on her tiptoes, grimacing as she strained herself in an attempt to reach the tall, overhead bins. She stepped back after a moment with a defeated sigh, as Rachel gave a soft chuckle, moving forward to help.
"Here," she offered, her voice a soothing balm to Christine's frustration. "I've got it."
"Thanks," Christine sighed quietly, cheeks slightly flushed as she observed the way Rachel moved, with a gracefulness that she'd only ever seen in the other girl. As she lifted her arms to shove the heavy bags into the overhead bin, she slid them in with ease, leaning back with a sigh. "There." She hummed, hands on her hips in pride.
The sight elicited a smirk from Christine, who laughed under her breath. "You're skilled." She mused, attempting to pretend that her cheeks weren't tinted a deep shade of red from her girlfriend's unintentional display of strength. She slid into the inner seat, feeling it dip beneath their combined weight as Rachel followed behind her.
The flight was fairly quick, though it wasn't like Christine remembered much of it. She and Rachel had been leaned against one another for the majority of the trip, Christine's head on Rachel's shoulder while the other girl's head laid against her own. The two were only awoken by the sound of the plane hitting the runway, causing both to sit up with a jolt.
After a moment of quickly fleeting panic, Rachel smiled nervously. "Huh. We're already here," she mused, glancing over at Christine, who looked utterly disheveled. Her hair was a mess, dark strands falling from the messily-tied updo on her head, eyeliner smudged beneath her waterline. She blinked a few times, gathering herself, before replying. A soft "hm" was all she could manage, causing Rachel to snort softly in response.
"Wake up, pretty girl." She mused, her own anxiety buried momentarily by the sight of Christine looking so sleepy and undone.
Christine remembered very little of the walk from the airport to their rental car, and even less of the drive. Consciousness only came when she was nudged awake by Rachel, who had just pulled up to a large, well-maintained gate.
"Christine? You awake?" She asked quietly, nudging her. "We're almost there. I need you to be conscious when you meet my parents." She smiled softly.
Christine groaned tiredly, sitting up to rub her eyes.
"Seriously? We're already here?" She asked, eyes suddenly widening as her mind flittered back into reality. She glanced around, at the tall looming apple trees and the large gate. She blinked a few times, taking it in, before muttering. "Woah. Fancy."
The road leading to Rachel's family estate was long and winding, a path careening down the hillside towards a large, brick house. Outside stood a group of three people — an older woman, a man, and a younger boy, whose gaze was fixed directly on the gravel before him. Christine straightened her posture, suddenly tense at the idea of meeting them for the first time — but as she looked over at Rachel, her own anxiety was quickly forgotten.
"Hey," she muttered, reaching over to place her hand atop Rachel's. "You okay?"
The other girl's gaze was fixed on the gravel road, hands clutching the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white.
"I'm alright," Rachel replied, despite her tension. "Just… don't take anything too personal, okay?"
Christine blinked a few times, her posture slumping a bit as she leaned forward. "What?"
"Nothing she says is personal," Rachel echoed, her voice softer now. "My mom, I mean." She paused, the rental car coming to a skidding halt against the gravel driveway. Before Christine could even respond, Rachel reached over, squeezing Christine's hand gently. It was a silent gesture, one that Christine knew Rachel well enough to understand.
"She still doesn't know about us, does she?" Christine asked, quietly.
"We're just roommates," Rachel muttered, her voice soft. "That's all. I'm sorry—"
"Don't apologize," the shorter girl cut her off before she could finish. "It's okay. Seriously. That's safest, right? That's all that matters." She muttered, though her shoulders remained tense. Despite the knowledge that it was for Rachel's safety, and her own, the thought that they had to pretend made Christine's stomach drop.
The door opened seconds later, causing both of them to pull away quickly. Rachel's mother instructing her father to carry in their luggage, her face shielded by a well-maintained fur shawl. "The parlor is the best place for it, dear," she mused, her lips pursed together. "You can be careless with it. Heaven knows Rachel didn't bring anything valuable." She hummed, causing Rachel to tense. She slid out of the car, straightening out her dress.
"Hi, Mom." She managed an awkward smile, standing before her mother as if she were being examined.
"Rachel," she greeted, her voice lacking warmth. "You've gained weight, haven't you?"
Christine's stomach twisted at the words, shoulders tensing as she stood behind Rachel. She watched her girlfriend's posture shift, her demeanor becoming much more defeated, completely void of her usual optimism. It made Christine's body burn with rage, the kind that was barely contained.
The only thing that kept her feet glued to the ground was the thought that Rachel would want her to hold her tongue.
"Mom, this is Christine — my roommate." Rachel introduced, finally, snapping Christine back to reality.
She stepped forward as she was summoned, her teeth slightly clenched despite attempting to control her irritation. It was nearly impossible for her to conceal the way she truly felt, her feelings written across her face. She extended a hand to Mrs. Levine, although tense.
"Christine," Mrs. Levine echoed the name, taking her hand carefully. She gave it a light shake, before pulling it away. "A pleasure."
"Mhm." Christine muttered. She turned to Rachel then, slinking back to stand next to her. The air between them was awkward, Mrs. Levine's gaze lingered on her, as if to size her up, and Christine felt as if she could see right through her. It was uncanny, sending chills through her body, though her gaze remained fixed on Rachel's pale face.
The rest of the evening was a blur of events — first, Mrs. Levine had given them a house tour, which, for the most part, was a self-righteous parade of Rachel's family's inherited wealth. By the time it was over, Mrs. Levine had brewed herself a cup of tea for the evening and headed off to bed. Christine had formed more than a few opinions on Rachel's family — ones that Rachel seemed to agree with.
"My mother is insane," Rachel sighed, her lips pursed together as she helped Christine make the bed, tugging the top sheet over the edge of the mattress. "My father just allows her to order him around, and my brother didn't say a word — which, admittedly, I'd probably do the same if I still lived here." She frowned, finding that she was tugging the sheet a bit harder this time.
It was only when Christine said her name that she realized how agitated she'd become.
"Rachel," Christine began, under her breath. With Rachel's disgruntled state, she frowned, reaching out to stop her jerky movements. "Hey — look at me."
Rachel was already too far gone, her eyes wide, shoulders slumped as her chest rose and fell rapidly. She'd been holding it in all evening, the rage that her mother evoked in her. With a heavy groan, she flopped down onto the freshly made bed, the silken sheets pooling around her red plaid dress. She buried her face in her hands, feeling the bed dip with Christine's weight as she sat down beside her.
"It's so bad, Chris," Rachel muttered, her voice muffled by her hands. "She's just so mean. And nobody has the balls to tell her—"
"I know," Christine muttered, interrupting her by wrapping her arms tightly around Rachels waist, tugging her up further onto the bed. "C'mere. You're fine." She reassured, her voice soft and sincere, almost guiding.
The sound of her voice made Rachel really believe that she was fine, though only for a split second. The moment Christine's arms wrapped around her, she broke, sobs wracking her entire body as she buried her face in the other girl's chest. Christine frowned, hesitating for a split second, as if she was afraid to touch Rachel, like she was some fragile thing that could be broken. Slowly, her arms snaked up, resting against her back comfortingly.
"Got you. I've got you," Christine muttered, pressing little kisses to Rachel's temple. After years together, after they'd somehow managed to escape the Circus together, Christine had become more than comfortable with physical affection towards Rachel. "I'm sorry, baby." She whispered against Rachel's skin.
"It's o—okay," Rachel choked out, leaning back with a sniffle. "M'sorry for cryin'." She rasped, a hint of an accent slipping out with her words.
Christine cracked a little smirk at the sound of it, subconsciously pulling her closer.
"That was cute," she hummed, her voice a soft, husky tone. "Your accent slipped out."
Rachel's eyes widened, and she snorted in amusement, lightly smacking Christine's chest. "Quiet," she mused, reaching up to dry her tears with the backs of her palms. "I didn't mean to."
"I liked it," Christine interjected, her voice still just as soft as before. "Do it again?"
"Again? You're serious?"
"So serious."
"No way." Rachel huffed finally, shaking her head at Christine's teasing. But Christine was already leaning over her, her chest pressed against Rachel's in a matter of seconds.
"Please? C'mon, it was so pretty." Christine purred, her hands caging Rachel in, resting on either side of her waist. It was quick, giving Rachel little time to react, though her back arched instinctively at the sight of her girlfriend leaning over her. She blinked a few times, the breath stolen from her lungs, before responding.
"Chris," Rachel whined softly. "In my family estate? Really?"
"You don't like them anyway," Christine smirked, leaning down to press her lips to Rachel's neck. It elicited a loud moan from the other girl, resulting in Christine's hand coming up to clamp over her girlfriend's mouth. "Quiet, baby. Don't get too loud, okay?"
The little nickname made a wave of heat rush to Rachel's core, her body arching towards Christine for more. She nodded her head obediently, not at all minding the way the other's hand remained clamped over her mouth, muffling her noises.
Christine smirked with satisfaction, leaning down to press another trail of kisses to Rachel's throat. "Atta girl." She purred against her skin.
Rachel's entire body thrummed with the need at the feeling of Christine's lips against her sensitive throat, her hand coming up to wrap around the other girl's wrist to ground herself. She let out a sharp breath against Christine's hand, trembling.
The kisses trailed down to her collarbones, then to her dress. Christine withdrew her hand from Rachel's mouth to undo the front buttons of her dress, examining the curve of her soft, pale tits. They were flushed, nipples pert and needy, begging for Christine's attention.
Christine slipped one into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the sensitive bud to elicit a moan from Rachel. She sucked gently on it, before flicking her tongue over the area. Her hand slipped between Rachel's thighs, feeling the heat that radiated from her core. She pulled back with a wet pop, looking up at Rachel with a silent plea.
"You're hot right here," she said, her voice low and rough with interest. "Want me to touch you? Answer quietly."
"Y-Yes," Rachel panted in a soft whisper. "P—Please."
"C'mere," Christine rasped, guiding Rachel's thighs forward. "Bring her over here to me."
A deep, desperate whine left Rachel, louder than she'd intended. As Christine positioned her between Rachel's thighs, she pressed kisses up the soft skin of her inner thighs. Each shaky movement that her girlfriend made only urged Christine on, before leaning back to examine her. She pulled the fabric of her dress up, exposing her panties — light blue with a little bow on the front, adorned with lace. It elicited an audible reaction from Christine, her lips parting slightly in a gasp.
"These are so pretty. You're like a doll," she muttered. "It was always fitting for you."
Rachel huffed out a laugh, her cheeks heated and flushed as she looked down at Christine. "I don't wanna think about the Circus while you're playin' with me like that, Chris." She mused, sheepishly.
"There's that pretty accent again," Christine smirked, pressing a finger to the wet fabric of Rachel's panties. She jerked against the contact, the pad of Christine's finger pressed against her clit. It throbbed under her touch, begging and pleading for more contact. "Greedy girl, isn't she?" Christine laughed softly.
"Q-Quiet, Chris!" Rachel hissed, though there was no heat behind it. "Please, hun. My mother is on the other side of this room."
The sound of the little nickname, rasped in Rachel's soft southern accent, sent a jolt of heat through Christine's body. "Fuck," She bit her lip in response, tugging at Rachel's panties. "Take these pretty panties off?"
Rachel nodded her head, quick to please, lifting her hips to allow Christine to pull the light blue panties off her body, sliding them down her thick, soft thighs. Her hands reached up to palm at them, studying Rachel with reverence, like she was the brightest piece of art Christine had ever seen.
"Spread your legs?" She requested, softly. Rachel obliged.
When her legs were spread, she was bared to Christine — fully, with no more barriers between them. Christine's stomach twisted into knots at the sight of her, splayed out on her old childhood bed, her thighs trembling as she showed off her pretty cunt, flushed and desperate for whatever she could get. She whined, rocking her hips against nothing but air, searching for relief.
"You are so needy tonight," Christine mused, crawling over her slightly. "And so pretty."
"Please, Chris — just touch me." Rachel whined out, her voice barely above a whisper. She prayed the walls were somehow thicker than she remembered them being.
Christine wasted no time. Her fingers trailed down to Rachel's cunt, testing her wetness. She hummed with approval as she slid her fingers further, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves there. Rachel's body jerked forward, her breaths shaky and rapid.
"Just feel it. Don't think about anything but me, okay? That's it." She encouraged, feeling Rachel rock against her fingers. Her hips moved on their own, without Christine's gudiance, desperate and needy for any sort of attention. As Christine's thumb rubbed her clit, her eyes remained glued on Rachel, her stomach flipping every time she watched the other girl throw her head back with a desperate whine.
"Ch-Chris, Chris, Chris," Rachel panted out. "Please— I'm so—"
"So what, baby?"
"So— worked up—"
"That's my girl. Keep riding it."
"O—Okay." Rachel panted out, moving her hips greedily against Christine's hand, her fingers brushed against her clit. In a moment of last minute thinking, she slipped a finger inside Rachel, making her cry out in pleasure. She immediately slapped her hand over her mouth to cover it, eliciting an amused snort from Christine.
"You're bad." She laughed, causing Rachel to smile sheepishly beneath her own hand. She continued to move her finger in and out of Rachel's wet heat, causing her to jump and whimper each time she moved. Her thumb rubbed soft circles against her clit, applying just enough pressure to keep her hips jerking forward, chasing the feeling of the pad of her thumb against her most sensitive area.
"Chris, I'm gonna— F-Fuck." Rachel panted out, unexpectedly. She never cursed — or, rather, she tried her best not to, but in these rare moments when she allowed herself to swear, it only spurred Christine on. She sped up her fingers, the speed of her thumb increasing against Rachel's clit.
It took only seconds for her to cum, hips stuttering forward as she buried her face in her hands to muffle the sound of her orgasm. Her body shook as she came, one hand falling from her mouth to grip the sheets.
"There you go. Easy." Christine reassured her softly, watching as the other girl came down from her high. She held out her arms to catch Rachel as she practically fell into her, panting and spent, reaching up to tug at Christine's completely loosened tie for support.
"Chris, oh God," she breathed out, burying her face in the other girl's neck. "I came so hard. Need a minute…"
"Take all the time you need," Christine muttered, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. She was hot, both her face and her body, from their previous activities. "I'm gonna hold you like this until you come down, okay? Feel any better?" She asked, quietly.
"Much better," Rachel replied. "Just… hope my mother didn't hear." She admitted, sheepishly, nuzzling her head into Christine's chest.
"Mmhm," Christine mused, absentmindedly, tugging Rachel closer. "She'll be fine. Tell her we were watching a movie. What's something straight girls watch?" She asked, amused.
Rachel snorted out a laugh, soft and slightly breathy. "A lot of the movies I like, y'know. Pretty Woman, Mean Girls, anything with Dolly Parton in it. I'll tell her we were watching Steel Magnolias." She laughed softly.
"Steel Magnolias?" Christine smirked, looking down at the other girl. "Do they moan frequently in Steel Magnolias?"
"No, but there's crying. Moaning could pass for that." Rachel mused, a strand of curly red hair falling into her face. She gave Christine a soft smile, looking up at her as she brushed it back, tucking it carefully behind her ear.
The two fell asleep shortly after, tangled in the silken sheets, their bodies wrapped around one another comfortingly. Like always, Christine laid against Rachel's chest, using her body like a pillow — and Rachel's arms stayed locked around the other girl's smaller frame all throughout the night.
When the sun rose, the two awoke to the sound of a loud bell, echoing through the house. It jolted Rachel awake, only for Christine to follow a few short moments later, her movements groggy and much less alert.
"Rachel? What is that?" She mumbled, under her breath, her tanktop falling loosely off her frame.
"That means breakfast is ready," she said softly, glancing over her shoulder to meet Christine's gaze. There was a look of fondness in her eyes, a gentleness as she examined her girlfriend's lazy attire, loving the way her messy, dark locks fell against her face. She leaned in to press a quick kiss to her cheek, before swinging her legs over the bed, standing to her feet to stretch.
"C'mon, get dressed. Mom expects us downstairs pretty soon." She hummed, leaving Christine in a half-asleep daze on the bed.
Rachel stepped into the hallway shortly after, closing the door behind Christine as she led her out into the hallway. The air was thick with the smell of bacon, eggs, and fresh biscuits, causing Rachel to sigh softly. It was a nostalgic sigh, like this was something she'd been oddly missing — though Christine was far too groggy to register it. She mindlessly followed Rachel into the dining room, the table a spread of fresh fruit, meat, biscuits, and eggs. Each bowl and platter was perfectly placed, every course designed by hands that had obviosuly prepared this food a dozen times over. In her groggy state, Christine could only really focus on the food — until Rachel's voice cut through her exhaustion like a knife.
"Felix?" Rachel gasped, causing Christine's eyes to widen, her chin jerking upwards.
Sitting at the table, at the very end beside Mrs. Levine, was Felix. He was picking through a bowl of freshly cut fruit, glancing up at the two with a grin, a dark t-shirt hanging from his lanky frame. It was the same familiar expression, tanned skin, and dark hair as always — and Mrs. Levine gazed upon him with a look akin to pride. With a wicked, shit-eating smirk, he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest.
"Sup, dollface," he mused, a strand of shaggy, dark hair falling into his face. "Poms." He greeted.
Christine's heart nearly stopped in her chest.