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The Bed

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They approached tentatively, both suddenly fully aware that they would be sharing a honeymoon bed. They hadn't really thought this through. The gilded Cupid above seemed to be wearing a smirk, daring them to breach that hallowed ground. To go where two women had never gone before.

Both wore their best Lovely Lady lingerie, Laverne in a long black satin gown and Shirley in a girlish white babydoll with matching ruffled panties. They'd joked about trousseaus when they packed, but neither was laughing now.

Shirley averted her eyes, directing her focus instead to the pink crushed velvet bedspread, which took on a lascivious tone that her cheeks soon matched. Laverne took Cupid's dare. No cross-eyed cherub was gonna keep her from a good night's sleep. A blue-eyed cherub, well, that was another story.

Sensing Shirley's discomfort, Laverne hopped onto the bed to dispel the tension, unleashing a loud chord from the musical nuptial couch. She grabbed a heart-shaped pillow and lobbed it at the brunette's head, rousing her from her reverie. As if waking from a dream, Shirley slowly lifted her chin, her features twisting into the familiar scowl that Laverne always found more amusing than menacing.

She sprang into action like a cat and brandished a pillow of her own, but Laverne stayed her hand:

"Ah ah ah! Cupid's watching!" Laverne laughed as the music played on.

Shirley couldn't suppress a grin and tossed the pillow at the headboard. She took Carmine's discarded mustache from the side table and stood up on the bed to stick it over Cupid's wayward gaze.

"There. What he doesn't see won't hurt him," she stated matter-of-factly before realizing the potentially lurid implication of her words. "I mean… won't hurt us! His weird eyes… won't… Well, who puts a creepy thing like that over a honeymoon bed anyway?" she sputtered.

"Same person who makes a bed play the piano! How the hell are we supposed to sleep on this thing?"

"You think there's an off switch somewhere?"

Shirley scanned the bedside area, desperate to stop the racket. Her nerves were shot.

"I'm lookin', I'm lookin'…" Laverne replied.

Laverne rolled from one side to the other, feeling around on the wall for a switch. She could see her best friend coming undone and knew it was time to put a stop to this.

Shirley's hands flew to her hair as the music escalated. Things were spiraling out of control. The creepy Cupid, the obscene pink bedspread, honeymooning with Laverne and now this relentless music. Combined with the exhausting deception of their circumstances, it was all suddenly too much.

"That's it! That's it! I can't do this anymore," she cried, her voice breaking with tears.

And just like that, Laverne found the off switch on the baseboard. All was blessed silence. Shirley's head whipped around to see Laverne's triumphant smile. Her hero.

Once more, Laverne had come to her emotional rescue. All of her anxiety vanished with the last obnoxious chord, and peace descended upon her. Smoothing her nightie, she took a deep cleansing breath and climbed into bed.

"Better?" Laverne grinned.

"Much. Thank you."

"Well, you were headed for a case of monkey nerves if I didn't do something there."

Shirley settled in and pulled the covers over herself, and Laverne did the same. Both relished the feel of cool satin sheets against their skin and exhaled together. This was comfortable. More than comfortable. Shirley couldn't remember what she was so worried about before. Laverne patted her friend's arm reassuringly.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yes. I am now."

Laverne moved her hand, but Shirley stopped her.

"D'ya mind, Laverne? Rubbing my back for just a little bit? Like you used to when we were kids?"

Laverne looked into the sky blue eyes she adored and melted. She remembered.

"Sure. Roll over."

For a few long moments, there wasn't a sound to be heard except Laverne's hand sliding across the fabric of Shirley's negligee. This felt good. Really good, for both of them. Shirley relished the feel of her friend's hands on her, goosebumps rising en masse across her skin. Laverne studied the contours of Shirley's shoulder blades, memorizing the placement of stray freckles and the way her soft, pale flesh pinkened with each languorous stroke. She had goosebumps of her own to rival Shirley's.

Shirley unconsciously moaned, but quickly caught herself. She shouldn't be enjoying Laverne's touch as much as she was. She felt her nipples stiffen and her panties were warm and damp. She wondered if Laverne could somehow tell. Her cheeks once again flushed hot pink, and Laverne's heart rate rose exponentially. She longed to slide her hand under the white chiffon and pull Shirley close. To touch the places she'd only seen in passing. The heat between them was undeniable, though both would have rather died than admit it. Neither made a sound, and the once blessed silence grew heavy until Shirley spoke.

"Boy, this sure isn't how I envisioned spending a night in the honeymoon suite at the Pfister."

Shirley had hoped to address the elephant in the room, but Laverne heard sadness in her voice and tried to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, me neither. But hey, it's free, right? And we had a good time tonight, didn't we?"

"Yeah… I just… I guess I just feel kinda… I don't know. Kinda screwed up. I mean, we're not kids anymore, Laverne, and we're no closer to getting married than we were when we graduated high school. Sometimes I wonder what we're doing, you know?"

Shirley turned to face Laverne, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Laverne caught her breath at the sight of her face across the pillows. They hadn't been so close in a long time. Not like this, anyhow. She saw a flicker of recognition in Shirley's eyes as well.

"I dunno… maybe we're… doing what's right for us? When our time comes… if it comes… it'll be right. Until then… this feels right to me."

Laverne had a way about her. A way of making perfectly natural sense of things, and Shirley couldn't argue with her. What's more, she didn't want to argue with her. Her mind had gone wandering. She couldn't help but notice how the bedside lamp cast a dim glow across Laverne's face and hair, and how pretty she looked just then. She'd never have believed it if Shirley told her, but it was true.

Instinctively, she reached over to brush a honey blonde curl from her forehead, and let her hand rest on her cheek. Laverne's breath grew shallow at the contact. She didn't want to move and break the spell. Shirley slid a little closer, biting her lip with words that would stay unspoken. Laverne's tongue moved slowly across her own lips, and she found herself moving closer too.

Their faces mere inches apart, the air between them heated by their proximity, Shirley leaned in and pressed her lips to Laverne's, softly, tenderly, almost innocently, but the way she lingered left room for doubt. Laverne responded in kind, neither daring to take their desires any further, both burning up with an all-consuming need for each other.

Shirley pulled away slowly, wide-eyed, her cheeks a new shade of crimson. She blinked twice, searching Laverne's face for judgment or recrimination, but found none. Laverne beamed with satisfaction. For the moment, nothing further was required. For now, that kiss was enough. That kiss was everything.

"This does feel right," Shirley conceded simply. And with that, she turned over, facing away from Laverne, who was breathless with joy.

Shirley reached for the lamp and as Laverne lightly caressed her back, they settled down to the best rest either had had since they were very young.