The bass pumped through the floor, vibrating every bone in Rose’s body as she sipped on her cocktail, some fruity concoction that Clara had bought her before running off into the throngs of writhing bodies.
Rose had had her doubts about the night, but she was pleasantly surprised, Clara’s posher friends welcoming her into their circle with open arms and wine-stained teeth. She finished the dregs of her drink, catching sight of Clara happily dancing, trying desperately not to ogle her too much in her tiny skirt that lovingly hugged the curves of her thighs and her top that exposed a lovely expanse of skin across her midriff.
She couldn’t let herself think that about Clara. Not lovely sweet Clara that had moved onto the Estate with her Dad when she was seventeen. Not school teacher Clara. Not impossibly sexy and infuriatingly adorable Clara.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
A drowned out voice came from beside her and Rose took a step back instinctively, eyeing the slim man in tweed across from her. She figured that anyone who would wear a suit like that to a club was completely daft, or a friend of Clara’s. Or possibly both.
“Nothing in particular,” Rose lied smoothly, glancing back at Clara before focusing her attention on the tweed suit.
He stuck out his hand enthusiastically, “I’m John.”
“Rose,” she replied, taking his hand and raising an eyebrow when he didn’t shake immediately.
“Oh, you must be Clara’s Rose!” He began shaking Rose’s hand, clapping his together when he let go. “Brilliant to meet you.”
Rose pulled back, trying her best not to flush at his words. Clara’s Rose. She loved the way it sounded in her head, and she could completely guarantee that she’d love it even more when she said it aloud later. Clara’s Rose. Oh, she was going to have fun with that one tonight.
She nibbled on the straw of her now finished drink, dividing her attention between John’s rambling about how he met Clara, and the woman herself, writhing away on the edges of the dance floor, smiling widely at Rose when she caught her looking.
“Did you want to dance?” John asked lightly, nudging her arm and drawing her attention back to him. “You can’t seem to keep your eyes off of them.”
Rose smiled, shaking her head quickly, but began to laugh when he began shaking his shoulders and stepping towards the throngs of people.
She put her empty drink down on the bar, twirling a little as she mimicked John’s moves. “Sure, why not.”
He took her hand, leading her past Clara and into the middle of the floor, where the writhing and gyrating was in full swing, sweaty bodies rubbing against sweaty bodies, the music vibrating through the ground and setting Rose’s nerves on fire. She began swaying her hips gently, unsure of how to dance around the gangly limbs of John as he threw them in the air and shimmied around her.
“C’mon Rose Tyler, Dance!” He yelled, his voice barely louder than the music.
Rose laughed, becoming bolder in her movements, swaying in time to the song blaring through the speakers, aware of John’s hands sweeping over her arms every now and then.
He took her by the hands suddenly, pulling her towards him and twirling her around.
“Not bad,” Rose giggled, sure that he wouldn’t hear her over the noise, but he smiled widely, waltzing her around to the latest pop songs.
Rose lost herself in the sensation of movement, feeling the lightest she had all week. After finally acknowledging her feelings for Clara, it had somehow gotten harder to be around her. Every little thing she said, or did, or wore drove Rose mad, and she’d spend days on end frustrated in a multitude of ways.
Rose caught John trying to say something, voice completely drowned out by the music.
“What?” Rose yelled back.
John leaned in, pushing her hair out of the way and put his mouth to her ear.
“I said, I don’t think Clara is very happy with our dancing.”
Rose turned around quickly and searched for Clara among the sea of faces. She found her sitting at the bar, scowling as she sipped on her drink.
Rose turned back to John, smiling at him apologetically before heading back to Clara, embarrassed beyond belief as it suddenly dawned on her. Clara fancied John. And Rose had just been twirling and shimmying around with him.
“Clara -” Rose started as she approached her, watching as she downed the rest of her drink quickly.
“I don’t mind Rose. I’m going home.” Clara picked up her purse, pushing past Rose as she headed for the exit.
"Clara," Rose called as she followed the brunette out of the club, hurrying to match her speed as Clara stopped by a cab bay.
Rose frowned as Clara pointedly ignored her as she walked up beside her, the brunette crossing her arms and looking anywhere but in her direction.
“I never would’ve danced with him if I knew you fancied-”
“I do not fancy John,” Clara interrupted loudly, glaring at Rose before turning her attention back to a street sign.
“Then tell me what’s wrong Clara. I’m your friend.”
“That’s the problem. I hate the way...” She trailed off, letting out a frustrated noise and turning away from Rose, her hands going to her hair.
Rose heard a shaky sigh before Clara turned back towards the blonde, looking down at her feet, "Just... Don't worry about it, Rose. It's stupid. I'm stupid."
"No, you're not," Rose said defensively, crossing her arms, growing more and more frustrated at Clara's evasiveness by the second.
The brunette let out a bitter chuckle, "See? There you go again. Protective big sister."
Rose tried not to show the hurt on her face at Clara's words. Big sister. That's how she thought of her.
"I don't want you to think of me as your sister," Rose said quietly.
Clara sighed. "Fine. Best friend then."
Rose looked up at Clara, something inside of her clicking. She took a step forward, crossing into Clara's space and hesitantly took her hand, her skin warm and slightly clammy, the metal of her rings providing a cool contrast as they brushed against her fingers.
Clara’s movements stilled, eyes wide as she finally looked at Rose. "How do you want me to think about you?" Clara asked, her voice no louder than a whisper, almost drowned out by the noises around them.
Rose felt her pulse quicken, and she licked her lips as Clara's eyes focused solely on her face.
Her voice was shaky as she finally voiced years worth of frustration and anger and love for Clara all at once.
The words hung in the air, neither woman moving, before the brunette finally responded.
Clara leaned towards her slowly, and Rose could feel her heart pounding away in her chest, because this was happening. Rose closed the gap between her and Clara, almost laughing in delight at the feeling of Clara’s lips beneath her own, impossibly soft, tasting of lipstick and the cocktail she had downed earlier.
The kiss started gently, lips only parting when Clara wound her arms around Rose’s neck, and licked into Rose’s mouth, letting their tongues entwine, laving at each other hungrily the longer they went on. Rose was awash in sensation, completely aware of everywhere Clara’s body was touching her own, her hands leaving goosebumps as they traced the blonde’s collarbone. Rose gasping into Clara’s mouth as she felt small fingers cup her breasts tentatively.
Clara pulled back slowly, her hands dropping to Rose’s waist.
Everything about Clara looked impossibly soft. The way her lips were parted and how she was looking up at Rose through half-lidded eyes. She briefly wondered if Clara was the same, had been keeping all of her frustration and adoration pent up inside of her, or if Rose was suddenly drunk off of the alcohol that still lingered on Clara’s lips.
“Would you like to come over?” Clara let out on a breath, eyes wide.
Their hands were all over each other's bodies as they stepped into Clara’s room, their kisses loud and wet.
Rose had never been this confident before sleeping with someone, but everything about being with Clara felt right. From the linked hands in the cab to the kisses on each other's necks in the hallway to her fingers sliding down Clara’s curves and sneaking their way beneath the brunette’s skirt.
Clara let out an appreciative sound, slowing down their kisses slightly and looking up at Rose.
“You sure?” She asked shyly.
“Yes,” Rose answered simply, her fingers digging into Clara’s thighs as they stumbled out of their shoes and onto the bed.
Rose was on autopilot, barely registering the moments she helped Clara shimmy out of her clothes and dropping them thoughtlessly to the floor. She just wanted to feel. Feel the warmth of Clara’s skin seep into her own, feel the shaky first-time nerves leave each other’s bodies, feel the rush of shared intimacy.
She vaguely registered Clara helping her slip out of her underwear, and blushed under the brunette’s heavy gaze.
Clara’s fingers softly traced the outline of Rose’s breasts, cupping them softly as she bent down to kiss them.
“You’re so beautiful,” Clara said softly, coming back up to press her lips against Rose’s. “So much better than my imagination.”
“You think of me a lot?” Rose asked cheekily, pulling away from the brunette’s pouting lips.
“Mmmmmm, quite a lot actually,” Clara hummed as she pushed Rose lightly, so that she was finally on her back.
Rose couldn’t get the rest of Clara’s clothes of fast enough, the final scraps of cotton and lace being thrown away haphazardly as Rose continued to try to pull Clara closer and closer to her each time.
“Patience Tyler,” Clara whispered as she pulled away from Rose, tucking her hair behind her ear.
Rose watched as Clara seemed to take a moment, eyelashes fluttering as she smiled softly down at the blonde.
“You know,” Clara started, her voice soft, “I’m quite happy I left that party now.”
Rose felt a laugh bubble out and over her, her body leaning up to get more, more, more, of Clara’s kisses.
Clara reciprocated, before pushing her body gently back down onto the bed, trailing her fingers up and down the fronts of Rose’s thighs. Rose moaned softly at the feel of Clara’s fingers, mere inches away from where she was aching for their touch.
Clara bent down slowly, leaving a soft kiss right below Rose’s belly button, the tickle of her breath sending a shiver through the blonde’s too sensitive skin.
The brunette’s light teasing kisses continued; the tops of Rose’s hipbones, the crease of her thigh, the freckle that sat just above where coarse curls began. Everywhere but...
“Clara,” Rose breathed, unsure herself whether it was a plea or a warning or some strange, desperate combination of the two.
“I know,” Clara said simply, before finally bringing her mouth between Rose’s thighs, and licking at the built-up slickness there, her tongue slowly trailing up, up, up, before she took Rose’s clit between her lips.
Rose felt a sound gurgle up from within her, a cross between a moan and a sigh and a deep, deep breath. Rose had never experienced anything, anything, like this before. The licks, and the kisses, and the gentle nips, building deep within her, and Clara looking up at her through heavily lidded eyes.
No one had ever left her feeling like her body could break off into bits of stardust.
It was as if every point where Clara’s fingers, or lips, or tongue met Rose’s skin was on fire, heated and charged and leaving Rose bucking her hips, gasping the brunette’s name.
She dug her heels into the mattress, pushing her body up to get more leverage, to get impossibly closer to Clara’s mouth and lips and tongue and that slight scrape of her teeth that sent Rose’s body into overdrive.
Rose looked down, meeting Clara who was watching her intently, somehow smiling and laughing and driving Rose mad with the flicks and swirls of her tongue all at once.
It was then that Rose shattered, coming wordlessly as she clutched for the sheets, pillows, anything as Clara looked on.
Rose lay breathless, barely registering Clara moving over her body, grinning proudly as she straddled Rose’s thigh.
“I know, right?” Clara said coyly, smiling down at Rose as she gently rocked her hips back and forth.
“That was incredible,” Rose let out a shaky breath, still recovering slightly as she watched Clara work herself against her thighs, lips parted and skin flushed.
Rose’s hand instinctively went to Clara’s hips, pulling her body down against hers. Their lips met messily, Rose moaning at the taste of herself in Clara’s mouth, her hands grappling for purchase against the smooth curves of Clara’s body.
She could feel how wet Clara was against her thigh, the moisture spreading as Clara continued to rock back and forth, mouthing at the blonde’s neck, her shaky breaths intertwining with moans against Rose’s skin.
“Rose,” Clara let out breathlessly, “I’m close.”
The brunette angled her hips against Rose’s thigh, enough so that Rose could help Clara finish with her fingers beneath her.
But the moisture that was spread along Rose's leg was far too tempting, and Rose smiled coyly towards Clara, her hands trailing along the brunette's hips. Rose gently flipped Clara so that she was lying on her back, eyes half-lidded and breaths coming out in short pants. She kissed Clara gently, light touches of her lips on her mouth, nose, eyelids.
“Rose,” Clara pleaded softly, her voice high and desperate.
Rose slowly left kisses down her neck and chest, pausing to take each nipple between her lips before continuing down Clara’s body, hovering above the heat that seemed to radiate from the brunette’s centre.
She glanced up at Clara, feeling herself grow more aroused the longer she took in the sight of flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. Clara met her eyes and smiled, and feeling bold, Rose flicked her tongue against Clara's clit, smiling at the throaty groan that echoed through the room.
It was all Rose needed as she became less hesitant in her movements, sliding two fingers into Clara and mimicking the things that Clara had done to her, leaving Clara's thighs quivering around her head.
She could feel how close Clara was, her walls clenching around her fingers, her moans growing louder and needier. Rose pulled away, looking up at Clara barely able to take her eyes away from the sight of her.
She pulled her mouth away from the heat of Clara, and kissed her way back up Clara’s sternum, keeping the rhythm of her fingers going, before catching Clara’s lips with her own in a kiss that was messy and wet and perfect.
“Rose,” Clara moaned as she pulled away, breathing heavily. Her hand wandered down, meeting Rose’s slick fingers, stilling them for a moment before she started a new, slower, deeper rhythm as she kissed Rose’s forehead.
Rose gently curled her fingers, humming into Clara’s neck as she felt the brunette shatter around her, Clara's back arching off of the bed as Rose coaxed her through her orgasm with fingers and kisses.
Rose kissed Clara softly, a whisper of a kiss as she let Clara recover, her breath still coming in short pants, eventually evening out.
"I love you," Rose said softly, surprising herself when the words escaped her.
The brunette smiled up at her, tucking Rose's hair behind her ear. "I love you too Rose."
Clara kissed her gently before she pulled Rose down into her side, letting their bodies curl around each other. A perfect fit, Rose noted, as she traced patterns over Clara's stomach.
“So, does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?” Rose asked, her tongue curling behind her teeth as she snuggled further into Clara’s side.
Clara smiled in return, placing her hand on Rose’s cheek, her touch tender as she met Rose's eyes.
“No, you’re something more.”