Getting back into dating isn't so bad, Gwen decides as Freya's bare breasts push against hers. Two hours ago Gwen was walking into the bar alone, telling herself it would be a good night, a step in the right direction, even if she didn't end up talking to anybody.
Fuck talking. Gwen opts for soft, wordless cries as she watches Freya's pretty, pouty mouth close over her nipple. Gwen gasps for air as her skin goes hard and shivery all over.
After fifteen months on her own her instinct now is to grab her own crotch, press against that ache for a few seconds of relief before reaching for her vibrator. Instead she goes to her knees and pushes up Freya's skirt, presses her face against Freya's damp knickers and smiles to hear Freya's answering moan. She's just hooking a finger under the elastic when Freya's phone goes off.
It's just one chirp, not an insistent ring. But Freya goes still and then, to Gwen's amazement, steps back, pushes her skirt down and goes for her purse.
For a fucking text.
"Um, I need to go."
An hour later, having masturbated to furious orgasm, sent Merlin some twenty miserable texts, and eaten the last of the chocolate cake, Gwen turns on the news.
"…Like some kind of giant cat, all black and sleek," says the blonde girl, her face a mess with dried tears and makeup. "With wings! And it saved me! That man would've killed me if it hadn't come in time!"
Gwen raises an eyebrow.
"You can go harder," she says as Freya curls two fingers against her labia.
Freya's been full of apologies – though not any actual explanations – since Gwen tracked her down again. Unsure of how to deal with an obviously touchy subject, Gwen said she'd accept sexual favors as penance.
"Or sharper, if you want. Use your nails, I don't mind."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm pretty tough," Gwen says cheerfully, thrusting into Freya's hand. She knows better than to bring up the last girl I dated while they're both naked, but damn if it isn't tempting.
"There's so much you don't know about me," Freya whispers. Her hand goes annoyingly slack.
Oh, go angst on a rooftop why don't you, Gwen doesn't say, pulling Freya down for a kiss instead. "That's good, I like surprises."
"No fucking way," says Merlin.
"You wouldn't actually have to attack me. Just kind of –"
"I know, threaten, I get it. Look, strange as it may seem to you, I'm not willing to risk getting torn to shreds by a flying cat monster just so you can move your relationship forward with a satisfying dramatic reveal."
"But my sunny disposition and not-so-subtle hints are getting us nowhere! Her getting to save me would be so perfect, don't you see?"
"Not gonna happen, Gwen. Maybe you should ask Morgana."
"That's not funny."
Her tone is sharp enough that he looks mildly repentant, but she knows he's mostly right. Her sunny disposition's been pretty useless so far, but that doesn't mean dramatics are the answer.
"So," Gwen says, after a deep breath but before they start taking their clothes off this time, "the last girl I dated was Morgana le Fay."
"We were together for three years."
Freya's eyes are wide, her words slow. "So you knew her before –"
"Yes. She told me about her powers. And it was… there were definitely some things I could have handled better. Who knows, maybe if I had she wouldn't have been quite so quick to go down the path that she did. The point is, I've been through some pretty extreme stuff, and I don't shy away from that. I'd probably still be with her it weren't for, you know..."
Gwen nods, sets her hands gently at Freya's hips. "The super part I was fine with! When I thought she was gonna be a hero I was all ready to be her sidekick. I honestly think I'd rock."
Freya shakes her head. "I could never put you in that kind of danger. You're so sweet and –"
"Not to burst your bubble, but I'm a queer black woman and, well, you know what kind of city we live in. I can figure out for myself when something's too dangerous and when it's worth it."
She leans in for a kiss and it's long, quiet, full.
"Be worth my while, Freya. Be my hero."