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Though few things ever really felt heavy to Yasha, the camera had a certain weight to it in her hands. Usually it was grounding, but today Yasha was worried she might drop it. Her nerves bristled their way down her arms and into her fingertips. She wasn’t trembling outwardly but felt as though her hairs should be standing on end with how much energy was buzzing beneath her skin.

She fiddled with the lens and then the settings as she waited.

There was no reason to be nervous. Yasha had done hundreds of photoshoots by this point; she was only a few months away from graduating from her program. She shouldn’t be nervous to take photos, but today she was.

Yasha thought she probably knew why, but looking that reason straight in the face was out of the question. She poked at it sometimes, as she lay awake late into the nights. Sidled around it, trying to only glance at it out of the corners of her eyes because if she didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t have to be real. If she didn’t name it, there was nothing to be scared of.

But the second Beau stepped into the doorway, Yasha knew she’d been fooling herself, and was doing a shit job of it to boot.

“Uh, hey Yasha.” Beau tugged on her plain white t-shirt and shuffled a bit, still half in half out of the room, “I wasn’t really sure what you wanted me to wear - I mean, I know it won’t matter in the end but um, yeah I dunno. Jester said this was probably fine but-”

“It’s good, Beau. No logos, just like I said,” Yasha interrupted Beau’s rapidly devolving ramble and the other girl’s shoulders sagged in relief at the intervention. When Yasha got nervous, she could barely force words past her teeth. In contrast, Beau never seemed to be able to stop the barrage on her own.

For some reason, Beau’s obvious nerves soothed Yasha’s own. She never wanted her subjects to feel self conscious or uncomfortable. Yasha’s entire project revolved around the juxtaposition of hard edges blending into soft, and she couldn't capture that if Beau was too anxious to let Yasha’s camera really see her.

“Sit down and relax,” Yasha nodded toward the bed. She was trying to emulate the professionalism of a true photographer, but right now she still felt like an inexperienced jittery student, “Shoes and socks off please. Everything else is good for now.”

Beau nodded back, looking more at ease now with the direction. Yasha crossed the room to fiddle one more time with the window and took a steadying breath that hopefully escaped Beau’s notice.

The light was perfect. It spilled in through the glass, golden and supple as it collected in the dips of the white comforter Yasha had bought specifically for this shoot. As Beau, true to character, leapt backwards onto the bed and landed akimbo in the center of it, dust motes launched into the air and started to whorl.

Yasha gasped silently through her teeth and the camera was at her eye before she even consciously commanded her hands to lift it. She got a few shots of Beau wiggling happily down into the folds of the blanket before the other girl realized what Yasha was doing.

“Oh, are we starting already?” Beau propped herself up on an elbow and Yasha was able to snap such a perfect picture of her jawline catching the light that she sent a silent prayer of thanks up to the ceiling. Nerves and unspoken non-things aside, Yasha was glad that she trusted her gut in asking Beau to model for her.

Beau wasn’t an art student but she was at her roommate Jester’s shoulder often enough so that Yasha started recognizing her at art department events. At some indeterminable point within the last year she Yasha progressed past acquaintances into a friendship that, despite a few backslides, was built slowly up via even more faltering steps forward.

Beau didn’t have any modeling experience but Yasha had gambled and so far the way her brown skin drank in the sun until it lit up gold, not to mention the dust glinting in the air, gods, it was a win. Even without her muscles, Beau was a person made of sharp edges; her proud nose and long fingers and her slashing grin that showed off pointed canines. The second Yasha chose her project thesis she simultaneously decided that her subject had to be Beau. Yasha told herself it was completely because of her study on contrasts, and that was that.

The cut of Beau’s bicep deepened as she pushed herself up and Yasha had to forcibly drag her lip out from between her teeth.

“Yeah just…” Yasha trailed off and kept clicking away before she remembered to finish her sentence, “let me get a few like this first.”

Yasha made sure to get a great shot of Beau waggling her eyebrows and wearing an honest grin, not her usual half cocked smile-snarl, before she was satisfied.

“I don’t know about you, but I feel like I’m nailing this,” Beau said, and Yasha huffed out a laugh.

“Okay, shirt off please. And try to stay still.”

“Pfft, I’m the best at staying still. I meditate like, pretty much all the time,” Beau lied, and unabashedly started to shuck her shirt off. This was familiar territory; Beau probably spent more time shirtless than she did clothed, especially when they were at the gym. But gods, did she have reasons to. The same reasons Yasha had very specifically chosen Beau for. The camera immortalized the downy blanket fabric floating up around linear planes of her stomach and abs and the vicious ridges of her hip bones. Yasha could not stop her eyes from tracing the way Beau’s muscles bunched and moved under her skin as she threw her shirt away from the bed. Yasha was starting to feel warm, and she desperately attempted to shove the feelings to the back of her mind.

Today however, Beau was wearing a simple white strapless bralette instead of her usual sports bra. Yasha smiled when she saw that it exactly matched the shade of the comforter. She’d given some requests to Jester when she said she wanted to help Beau get ready and it looked like the exuberant art minor had taken her job seriously.

Beau wiggled out of her pants without Yasha having to ask but she faltered once they were off.

“Sorry if these weren’t really what you were envisioning for this,” she gestures to her boxer shorts. They were the same white as her bra, made of soft linen, but Beau pulled at the waistband self-consciously. “Jester tried to get some fancier like, panties or whatever on me but it’s not what I usually wear and I felt weird about them.”

Yasha lowered the camera and said, suddenly wanting desperately to reassure her, “I told you Beau, whatever you feel most comfortable in. You can put your pants back on if you want to, or at any time later on if you change your mind. Don’t worry about me, I can definitely work with this.”

Beau smirked and Yasha flushed when she realized what she said. She was warm all over at this point. As one would expect, it was impossible to not stare at Beau when the entire point of this afternoon was to look at Beau through her camera.

Beau, confidence quickly restored, drawled, “Nah, as long as it’s not ruining your ‘vision’ then I’m fine. Arrange me how you want me, I dunno what I’m doing over here.”

Yasha swallowed and moved to lay Beau back on her side so that her head was pillowed on one arm. Her own pale skin against Beau’s dark tone was enough to almost make her forget herself. She wanted to keep touching, skimming her fingertips over Beau’s edges and hollows. Yasha swallowed again, harder, and backed up. Beau was quiet for once, just gazing up at Yasha. The easy trust Beau offered her as she let Yasha position her was almost too much.

“Can you - um,” Yasha stumbled over her words and resorted to miming flexing her own bicep at Beau, who stared without an ounce of shame.

“I knew you just wanted me for my body,” Beau teased as she followed suit, flexing her abs and tightening her shoulder muscles until they stood out starkly against the shadows pooling in the dips between them.

Yasha exahaled and it was so obviously shaky that she felt herself flushing. “I ah, was very clear when I told you the parameters of my project.” She started snapping pictures again before she can make an even bigger fool of herself and ignored Beau crowing at her for “admitting it!”

Had she really let herself believe if she didn’t directly acknowledge her attraction to Beau that it didn’t actually exist? And then have the idiotic bravery to invite Beau to model for a shoot that specifically required her stripping down and not expect something - some inevitable part of what had been building between them since they they’d met - to shift in a way that was impossible to come back from? How could Yasha have been so reckless?

Yasha kept taking pictures. She stepped in close enough that her thighs pressed up against the end of the bed. She guided Beau into one pose and then another, turning her so that the afternoon rays hazed across her skin just so.

The room felt like honey spooling out, hazy and warm. After they’d been at it awhile Beau seemed to be almost in a trance. She sprawled languidly across the bed and stretched in a way that reminded Yasha of a big cat, maybe a jaguar. The space between Yasha’s legs thrummed. She was in such a daze that she worried about her camera slipping through her girl-struck fingers.

Beau’s teasing smiles fell away and Yasha was dragged through her lens by the stark blue of her stare.

She’d been fighting against this for so long. First out of guilt for Zuala, and then once she’d finally untangled the knot of unresolved feelings stemming from that relationship, it was fear that drove Yasha to bash herself over and over up against the wall of what she wouldn’t let herself have. She was afraid that she couldn’t survive another Zuala. But Yasha despised cowards, and it was time for her to extinguish the trait within herself.

She’d spent so many months shying away from Beau… and yet she’d invited her here today. Some part of Yasha was still willing to ask for what it wanted, it seemed.

“Would you be open to,” Yasha paused to fight back the last of the fear, “facing away from me and showing your entire back?”

Beau’s already cat-like stare lidded even further at the request and she started to reply but had to clear her throat into her fist before trying again, “Uh - yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” Maybe her admiration of Yasha wasn’t entirely made of bluster. Something spiked in Yasha’s stomach and she didn’t know if it was made up of hope or terror, or maybe just arousal through and through.

Beau shifted into a seated position and Yasha stepped around the bed so Beau was facing away from her whilst still catching the light against the wing of her shoulder blades.

Once her bralette was off and the line of Beau’s spine was completely uninterrupted, Yasha could not stop a hum from rumbling out. Beau shuddered once at the sound of it, almost imperceptible if not for Yasha’ literal tunnel vision through the eye of her camera. The click of the shutter was as rhythmic as a heartbeat and it mirrored Yasha’s own staccato tempo.

“You’re doing good, Beau.” Yasha murmured and Beau’s back unexpectedly straightened as though she’d been electrified.

Beau settled back, and tension stretched; at once seeming as breakable as a single strand of spider webbing and also as enduring as a steel cable. They’d been twining this out between them for countless months, and the anticipation had Yasha turning away and placing the camera on the bedside table in order to run her restless fingers through her braids.

Yasha heard Beau shuffle as she turned and moved across the bed and onto the floor. She padded up to Yasha and touched her fingertips to the back of Yasha’s neck just under her ear. The gesture was soft but made with such an assured intention that it finally settled something inside of Yasha.

Yasha felt her shoulders set back into place and let the moment make one last delicious surge before she finally, after all this time, made a move.

She sidestepped and spun to use her hands, one on Beau’s hip and the other between her shoulder blades, and the press of her own lower half to push Beau up against the wall.

Beau didn’t let Yasha have time to second guess the decision, instead letting out a growling moan as Yasha slid her hand up from between her shoulder blades to the back of her neck. Beau squirmed and Yasha lightly scratched her fingers through the stubble of Beau’s undercut and tightened the rest of her grasp in retaliation.

“Thought I asked you to stay still?” Yasha pressed closer to Beau, slotting her hips up against the other girl’s backside.

“Are you,” Beau paused to gasp out another growl against the wall, “fucking kidding me? Do you know how long I’ve spent thinking about this? Getting off to it? And you want me to stay still?”

Now it was Yasha’s turn to moan. She bucked against Beau and drug her lips and then her teeth across her shoulder.

Yasha went with an inkling she’d had earlier, “Don’t you want to be good for me?”

Beau froze and then went almost limp in Yasha’s grasp. Yasha chuckled against the skin of her back and whispered, “There we go, Beau.”

Beau whined and snaked her hand down to press at herself against her boxers. Yasha let her get in a few bucks against her own palm before replacing it with her own. She cupped Beau through her boxers and splayed the fingers of her other hand over Beau’s sternum to hold her tight between Yasha and the wall.

Beau’s forehead thudded against the plaster as she dropped it forward. “Oh my gods. Oh my gods.”

Yasha could feel Beau’s heat through the boxers as she squirmed against Yasha’s fingers and she briefly entertained the idea of letting Beau rub herself off just like this. But then Beau made a small breathy noise of need like Yasha had never heard from her before. Not typical Beau-gruff or a sneer, but soft. Vulnerable.

Yasha flipped Beau so her back was against the wall and took a second to drink her in. An unruly lock of hair had escaped her bun and was curling across her cheek. Beau indulged Yasha’s pause and stood panting for a few silent moments before raising a brow in obvious impatience.

“Alright, alright,” Yasha huffed, half laughing half so turned on she could barely form a sentence.

Then she leaned in to finally, finally kiss her. Beau met her eagerly to take Yasha’s bottom lip between her own and deepen the kiss. Beau surged against her so that her tits pressed up against Yasha’s own still-clothed chest. Yasha groaned into Beau’s mouth and reached between them to run her thumb over Beau’s nipple. Beau tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of Yasha’s neck and gave a joyful tug.

Yasha lost herself against Beau’s lips; parting, releasing, then coming together in a new configuration that couldn’t possibly feel as good as the last one yet somehow always managed to be better.

She barely even realized Beau had her shirt unbuttoned before it was falling to her elbows. Yasha shook it off onto the floor and Beau sucked in a breath at the site of Yasha’s black bra.

“Fuck…” She whispered. She peered up at Yasha, “Can I?”

It’d been a long time since Yasha had felt need like this. She was practically drunk on it.

She barely had to nod before Beau had two handfuls of her boobs and was mouthing at the edge of black lace. Yasha buried her face in Beau’s hair and tried to steady herself. It turned out to be a futile act as Beau deftly unclipped her bra and started sucking a blooming bruise into the skin to the right of Yasha’s nipple.

After a moment Beau released her and asked, “You alright, Yash?” The breath from her words ghosted across Yasha’s nipple and Yasha had to take a slow breath before responding.

“Yes.”

Beau paused with her cheek against Yasha’s breast to laugh. “You’ve always been a woman of few words.”

Yasha rubbed at Beau’s undercut again, enjoying how the other girl leaned into the touch. It was a nice pause from the frenzy that’d been building between them. “It’s never seemed to deter you.”

Beau gave her a smacking kiss in the middle of her chest, right below the meeting of her collarbones. “‘Course not! You’re really hot and have like, gigantic arms, and you’re wicked talented - like, you take the best pictures I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t matter if you don’t talk much.” Beau shrugged and seemed to wrestle with something before continuing, “You know, I… I really like you. But I know you’ve been dealing with the Zuala thing, and I also know I’m kind of a shit sometimes. It was never my intention to make you feel pressured.”

Yasha was shaking her head before Beau even finished. “I know it wasn’t, and you haven’t. I’ve seen you Beau, and I appreciate your patience.” Yasha swallowed. “And - I like you too, very much so.”

Beau’s eyes widened in almost comical astonishment and Yasha took advantage of the moment to grasp Beau by the waist and toss her backwards onto the bed. Beau let out an undignified yelp as she bounced upon impact. For the second time that day the image of her sprawled out, dark skin and darker nipples and flyaway hairs brushing against the point of her shoulder, askew among the blankets, made Yasha’s fingers itch for her camera. She must’ve turned to actually glance at its place on the bedside table because when she looked back, Beau had her head cocked to the side, considering.

“Take more pictures.”

“But you’re, uh,” Yasha mimed at her own naked chest.

Beau rolled her eyes, “I know my tits are out. I’m not saying hang these ones in your gallery show, but I can tell you want to and I think I’m kind of into it? Maybe?”

Yasha’s meager restraint only let herself mull it over for a few seconds. “If you change your mind or want me to stop, I’ll delete all of them.”

“Yeah I know you will, so get over here already.”

Throughout her life, two things never failed to make Yasha feel invincible: a camera in her hands or a girl under her fingers. The possibility of those two worlds colliding made the throbbing between Yasha’s legs roar back into existence.

Beau seemed almost more confident in front of the camera now that she was clad only in her boxers. Maybe it was because she’d gotten used to it, or maybe there was less pressure now that only Yasha would see these. Regardless, the way Beau made zero attempt to be subtle when she arched her back and threw her arms behind her head had Yasha shifting her thighs for friction. She really needed to get out of these jeans.

It was a pity Yasha couldn’t actually hang these in her gallery show. Beau’s body deserved to be in the Louvre and it was well warranted; she worked hard on it. Yasha hadn’t been privy to all the details of Beau’s family situation and how it’d dramatically shifted between her first and second year of school but she did know that the hours spent coaching classes in Dairon’s gym and working her second job in the library were only ways Beau was able to stay enrolled.

Despite working insane hours, the change in Beau after she was able to switch out of her father’s mandated business major and into pre-law had been magical. She still rocked a grumpy expression and had a knack for unintentionally offending people, but she walked around campus like the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. For her part, Yasha couldn’t say she minded the effect the extra hours in the gym had on Beau’s abs.

Yasha could see Beau start to get impatient again as she slowly traveled around the bed to get each angle she wanted.

“Okay, just kidding - I regret the picture thing. Come touch me again,” Beau demanded. Yasha got a shot of her grabby hand reaching towards the lens.

“Mm-mm. A few more.”

Beau flopped down and groaned before suddenly narrowing her eyes. She started to play with the waistband of her boxers and deliberately smirked up at Yasha.

“Fine then, you keep taking pictures. I’ll touch myself.” Beau tossed hair she didn’t even have over her shoulder in faux haughtiness and Yasha couldn’t help but laugh.

“You were right, you are a shit.”

Beau probably didn’t expect her bluff to be called, but Yasha kept taking pictures as she shimmied out of her underwear. There was a perfect moment of stillness as Beau reclined, completely exposed, and both girls held their breath in a standoff of the best kind.

Then Yasha lifted her camera back up, slowly - as if she was trying not to startle a wild thing. The shutter closed and Beau blew out a breath that wasn’t quite a whine. She slid her hand up her own ribs and dug her nails in along the way. Her legs fell open and Yasha could see that she was still wet from their tryst against the wall.

“You like watching?”

Yasha startled at the question. She realized belatedly that she’d not been doing much besides staring, so she stepped closer to the bed. She wanted to reach out and push Beau’s knee a little wider, turn her chin to the left a few inches, but Beau’s nakedness had shifted the vibe. Something swelling and anticipatory was forming between them precisely because they weren’t touching.

“Uh, believe it or not this is kind of a new territory for me.”

Beau brushed her fingertips over her nipple and cocked her head to the side. Her goofiness from earlier had quieted and now the lines of her expression were serious. Interested.

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

Yasha swallowed. This was already happening, there was no use letting the old fear and dishonesty take hold again. She answered, “Yeah, I do. Like it, I mean. You have no idea what this is doing to me.”

“I think I have some idea,” Beau murmured and then gave a little shiver. Yasha realized that she’d ran her fingers through her folds, and experienced an answering shudder of her own. She started taking pictures again as Beau dipped one, then two fingers inside of herself.

“Do you like being watched?” Yasha asked. She felt like she already knew the answer, but wanted to be sure.

Beau rolled her hips up into her hand. “Yeah, it makes me feel - ah - important. Nobody ever really gave a shit before. But I’d like it more if you came over here.”

Yasha knelt by the side of the bed and took a close up picture of Beau’s canine digging into her lip. “Gods Beau, you look so good. I could take pictures of you all day.”

Beau let out a real moan this time, “I promise you can, but next time. Right now, I really want to cum and I don’t want it to be around my own fingers.”

Yasha took her time framing one last shot of Beau’s back arching off the bed with her fingers hilted deep inside herself.

Yasha.”

The anticipation felt like it was a physical presence in the room. Yasha rose on unsteady colt-like legs to put the camera back on the bedside table. Then she slid open the window to let the breeze curl into the increasingly sweltering room. The translucent white curtains danced and pieces of Beau’s escaped bangs flicked across her eyes. She brushed them away impatiently with the hand that wasn’t currently busy.

“Yasha I can literally see your legs shaking right now. Would you please, please come over here. Please.”

This slow crawl of a pace was something Yasha hadn’t experienced before. She’d never had a partner beg before she’d really touched her. She fumbled with the button of her jeans, unable to deny Beau for even a single second more.

Beau bounced upright and helped Yasha yank her pants down. They were barely past her knees before Beau was kissing her. Yasha tried to lift Beau and kick her jeans off the rest of the way at the same time and it was only through sheer strength that she was able to balance on one foot long enough to finally get free. Beau locked her heels around Yasha’s back to help out and Yasha one track minded her way into getting both hands full of Beau’s ass. She grinded shamelessly against Yasha’s torso until they were both doing more gasping than kissing.

Yasha tried to lay Beau onto the bed but before she realized what was happening Beau shifted her leg and rolled so Yasha’s back hit the bed first with a surprised ‘oomff.”

“Hah,” Beau crowed and Yasha let her have one victorious moment perched atop her before she slipped her fingers into Beau’s hair and firmly tugged until she had Beau growling and turning her head into Yasha’s hand to seek more. Yasha didn’t have the dexterity or grappling training that Beau did, but her arms were nearly as thick as the other girl’s thighs and it didn’t take a genius to flex some muscle. She tilted Beau’s head back and nipped at her right under her jaw before she wrapped an arm around the now properly disarmed Beau’s waist and rolled them again.

Not to be outdone, Beau bit her back in retaliation, right under her collarbone, and then slid down even more to pull Yasha’s nipple into her mouth. She laved at it with her tongue and then scraped her teeth across it until it was as hard as a pebble and Yasha was bowed over and panting into the blankets above Beau’s head.

Beau was a fucking tornado as it turned out, and it was better than Yasha ever imagined. She finally let go of Yasha’s nipple only to cheekily snap the band of Yasha’s panties and pull Yasha’s hips down on top of hers.

Yasha didn’t mind being taken care of first, but she’d started something today and she intended to see it to its conclusion. Beau had gone limp and pliable under her direction earlier in the photoshoot and Yasha knew she was subtly pushing up against Yasha’s willpower right now for a reason. Maybe she was crazy, but to Yasha it seemed that despite her current actions, Beau wanted to give up control. Or not give it up per say, but to have it rightfully fought for and won from her. Now that she understood the challenge, Yasha was more then game, and losing wasn’t really in her repertoire.

But, being drowned in tawny skin and sharp elbows and even sharper kisses had Yasha’s head spinning and before she knew it she was rolling her hips down against Beau’s and hitting a delicious rhythm.

Beau reached down to try and push her panties aside but Yasha snatched her wrist and pinned it to the bed before she could.

“Yashaaaa.”

Yasha just lifted her eyebrows and Beau huffed. Then she changed tactics and tried to squirm her legs back underneath her to go for another flip. Yasha collapsed down on top of her thighs before she could and paused to shake her braids out of her face.

“Beau,” she growled, “Stop. Moving.”

Beau gasped into the crook of her elbow but continued to rut against Yasha, ignoring her attempts to pin her down.

“Make me.” She flashed a sharp-toothed grin and the last fucking scrap of inhibition left in Yasha’s brain disintegrated. She grabbed Beau’s hipbones and flipped her onto her stomach and then used her own hips to knock her thighs apart. Then Yasha curled one arm around her abdomen to life Beau’s ass, and wrapped the other around the back of Beau’s neck. She levered her down until Beau’s chest hit the mattress.

Beau tried in vain to twist her way out of the submission, but Yasha’s grip under her belly and against her neck held fast.

Beau swore under her breath and Yasha paused to ask, “This okay?”

“This is the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Yasha chuckled and said, “That’s my girl,” which had Beau choking off a whimper into the pillow.

Yasha wasted no more time in parting Beau’s folds and tracing a finger through her wetness before starting to circle her clit. Beau jerked and Yasha flexed her arm to hold her fast. Beau’s answering murmur of encouragement made Yasha smile. She loved feeling strong and able to move her partners about where she chose (as long as they were cool with it and Beau obviously had no objections). She liked being able to curl around them and surround them and protect them. Yasha kept circling her clit with a steady pressure that had Beau desperately canting her hips.

“Penetration?”

Beau gasped, “Yes, yes - inside, please.”

Yasha pressed into her with one finger and found her so slick that she slipped a second in too. Yasha couldn’t help but grind her own hips in time against her thrusts.

Yasha bent until she was folded over Beau’s back, humping messily against her own hand as it drove into Beau. They were both gasping together and Beau was making little keening noises each time Yasha curled her fingers.

“I’m going to move my hand, you stay there okay?”

Beau nodded frantically into the blankets, apparently too far gone to answer verbally. Yasha slowly released the nape of her neck, wary of Beau trying to roll them again, but she was totally pliant now. She’d ceded control to Yasha; she trusted her. Yasha ground down harder at the thought and cursed herself for not letting Beau get her panties off earlier. The cloth was damp and sticky and had entirely outstayed its welcome.

Yasha kept her fingers inside Beau and started to drive in and out faster, curling to hit and drag down Beau’s inner wall with each stroke. Her newly freed up hand was able to resume rubbing Beau’s clit, albeit a little clumsily as Yasha tried to keep up the rhythm with her non-dominant hand.

Beau didn’t seem to care. Yasha’s arm around her was the only thing holding her ass up in the air at this point. Her fists bunched in the sheets and her moans began to get higher and higher pitched.

“You’re doing great, Beau,” Yasha groaned into her ear, “You’re so good; I’m so proud. Such a good girl.”

Beau let out a short little cry and Yasha felt her clench and begin to shake around her fingers. Yasha worked her through the orgasm and beyond as she finally let Beau collapse down onto her stomach. Instead of slowing though, she pulled them both onto their sides. She curled around Beau’s back and kept rubbing messily at her clit. They were both too worked up to care about the lack of finesse. Beau had barely stopped quaking from her first orgasm before she was coming again, bucking hard against Yasha’s hand. This time a little squirt of fluid accompanied her yell of release and Yasha craned her neck so she could watch it spatter onto the blankets. She bit down on Beau’s shoulder to stop what would’ve been a completely embarrassing moan of delight at the sight.

She circled her fingers lightly through the slick wetness and brought Beau down as gently as she could, but the show she’d just been gifted added to how close she was from rutting herself against Beau’s backside had Yasha so needy she had to roll away and slip a hand down into her own panties.

“Wait, wait wait,” Beau murmured, more of a slur than anything. She tugged Yasha’s arm away and Yasha couldn’t stop the quiet noise of frustration. She was so fucking turned on she couldn’t stand it.

“You’re fine Yash, I gotcha.” Beau grabbed a pillow to put under her head and then motioned at Yasha, “Hop up here.”

Yasha swore she almost came just at the suggestion of riding Beau’s face. “Really?”

Beau’s answer was to tug her up so she could swing a leg over and straddle her shoulders.

“So hot,” Beau whispered as she thumbed at the wet spot on Yasha’s underwear. Then Beau moved them to the side and pulled Yasha down onto her tongue.

“Oh - oh just like that. Oh gods, I’m not going to last very long,” Yasha stammered. She tried her best not to suffocate Beau but her hips rolled down against her face over and over of their own accord and it was all Yasha could do to fist the blankets above Beau’s head and ride it out.

Beau hummed happily as she sucked Yasha’s clit into her mouth and Yasha nearly sobbed at the feeling. It felt like pulsing lightning through her core and shooting up her spine. Beau’s hands on her ass encouraged her and Yasha gave into a quick and dirty rut against her mouth.

Beau snuck one hand up and pinched Yasha’s nipple and the delicious spark of pain was what finally tightened Yasha’s inner walls more than she could stand. She came with a snarling moan of pleasure and pumped her hips deliriously through the aftershocks as Beau licked her up.

Eventually Yasha had to flop off of Beau onto her back in order to spare both of their lives. They both lay panting together for a few minutes to allow heart rates to decrease and breaths to be caught.

Yasha eventually lifted an arm to let Beau, who was trying her hardest to look like she didn’t in fact want more contact, to snuggle into her side.

“Nap?”

“Hell yeah. I’m a really great big spoon you know,” Beau cajoled as she poked at Yasha until she indulged her and let Beau pull her into her chest. Yasha could feel her hiding a smile into her shoulder blades and reveled in her own accompanying flush of joy. Beau had crept up on her, gotten under her skin and into her heart without Yasha really realizing. And it felt… good. Really, really good.

“So…. do you do this with all your models?”

“Hush, Beau. Nap time.”

---------------------

Over the next few days Yasha had to stop twice while editing through all the photos to get herself off again. It would’ve been embarrassing if she had any shame, but anyone who saw the shots of Beau’s fingers buried inside of herself, or of her breasts arching into sunbeams would have had to do the same. It was a damn shame she couldn’t show these pictures off because they were good.

Molly wouldn’t stop bugging her to see the final pictures and was miffed that Yasha didn’t let him into her studio like she usually did when she edited. He finally understood when he was helping her hang her pieces for the gallery show and saw the photo Beau gave her permission to slip in.

It was of her on her stomach, completely nude but with the blankets tastefully arranged. She was twisted to show off her bicep and obliques, but her face was the most peaceful Yasha had ever seen it. She’d snapped the picture afterwards, when Beau wasn’t paying attention, instead just gazing out the window and turning her face into the breeze. The sunlight snagged perfectly in the blue of her eyes. It was probably Yasha’s favorite picture she’d ever taken.

Jester would not stop wiggling her eyebrows and dance-pointing back and forth between Yasha and Beau and the photograph the entire night. For her part, Beau strutted around like she owned the place and soaked in the praise of Yasha’s classmates. Yasha made sure she thoroughly enjoyed her time in the spotlight before snagging her into an empty lecture hall for a repeat performance.

The fear still crackled at the base of her skull sometimes, but Beau’s grin was more than enough to chase it away. On days like these, with Beau at her back, Yasha felt fucking invincible.