Chapter Text
No flower in bloom could be as beautiful as you
When you look at the stars in the midnight blue
Then you turn to me and I realize anew
That no one will love you as much as I do
“I want to travel the world,” Macarena says over dinner on a random Thursday. She’s just gotten back home from her eight-hour shift at Libertad and joined Zulema, who was waiting for her at home. “I’ve been in Spain all my life, aside from a few holidays to France, and I feel like I haven’t seen anything yet.”
Initially, Zulema is reluctant to agree to the blonde’s plan. Everything is perfectly fine here in Madrid; she feels at home in her city, with Macarena and Saray and everything she loves right around the corner. It has taken her long enough to settle down and find a real home and she doesn’t want to give that up. So, why should she leave?
“We’re not leaving forever,” Macarena reassures her, when she notices that Zulema has stopped eating and is now simply staring at her fork with spaghetti. “I just want to go away for a few months.”
Zulema looks up to meet light green eyes. “A few months seems pretty long to me,” she replies.
“We left Madrid for our honeymoon too, remember?” Maca mentions.
Right after they had gotten married, they went to Málaga, in the very south of Spain. Just the two of them in a penthouse with sea views, because Zulema wanted to be near the beach. Macarena just wanted to be near Zulema.
“That was one month,” the older woman counters.
Macarena reaches over the table with right hand to take the brunette’s left in hers. Their fingers automatically lace together and Zulema feels a pleasant tingle run up her arm and settle in her chest. It calms her down.
“We’re not leaving forever,” Macarena repeats, her eyes finding Zulema’s. “I just want to go for a few months. With you. To wherever we want to go. We can sit and write down countries we want to visit.”
“Like a list?” Zulema asks.
“Yeah,” the blonde replies. “If that’ll make you feel more secure. I know a few countries I want to go to. Maybe you can think about yours and once we know, we can start planning things.”
Zulema needs a few days to get used to the idea and Macarena knows that, so she gives her some time. The brunette will come to her when she’s ready. Of course it happens in the middle of the night, something Macarena isn’t very happy about, but she’ll take it.
The blonde has developed a sixth sense for Zulema waking up. She's still a heavy sleeper, but she instinctively knows when the brunette gets out of bed. Now, it's only three AM when Macarena feels the bed dip slightly. She opens her eyes just in time to see Zulema put on a sweatshirt, before the brunette tiptoes to the door.
"Where are you going?" Macarena questions, her voice rough from sleeping.
The older woman turns around, not even surprised that the blonde has woken up. “I’m making my list.”
“Your what?”
“My list. For our trip,” Zulema replies, hand movements accompanying her words.
Macarena yawns. “Now? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Yes,” Zulema says. Her hand reaches for the door knob. “I’m fine, rubia. Go back to sleep.”
Macarena wants to protest, but exhaustion is taking over her entire body again and she’s too tired to stay awake until the brunette comes back. “Vale,” she mumbles as she rolls over and pulls the covers over her shoulders.
They compare their list of countries two days later, on Saturday afternoon, sitting in the sun on their roof terrace. It turns out they’re absolutely not on the same page. Not even one country on their list is the same.
Not surprisingly, Zulema wants to go to Egypt. Morocco, Greece and Croatia are the other three countries on her list.
Macarena’s list is longer. She starts off with Portugal, Monaco, Italy and Sweden. Then, she changes continents and wants to go to Brazil, Argentina and Peru. She finishes with Indonesia and specifically Bali.
“Portugal I can live with,” Zulema starts. “But Sweden? Really? I’m going to freeze to death.”
“It’s not that cold if you don’t go all the way up to the north,” Macarena counters.
When Zulema shrugs in response, almost as if she’s having second thoughts about all of this, Macarena decides to observe her for a while. She watches as Zulema scans the pieces of paper and her gaze lingers on her own, before looking at Maca’s list again. It's almost as if Zulema knows how badly Macarena wants this, but she herself just can’t shake off the feeling of leaving home.
Maybe some countries are too far, Macarena realizes. The brunette said she doesn’t like being far away from home, now she’s finally found one.
“We don’t have to go to South America if you don’t want to,” the blonde offers gently. “I want you to like this as well.”
Zulema tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at her wife. It still feels absolutely insane to call Macarena her wife, but she’s trying to get used to it. She got used to the word girlfriend too, so it should work eventually.
“I don’t want to go too far,” Zulema confesses.
“Okay,” Macarena replies immediately. She leans over the armrest and kisses the brunette on the lips, before turning to their lists. “How about this; we start in Portugal and then go to Morocco, Egypt, and Greece. We can finish in Italy and Monaco, so we won’t be far away from home at all.”
The look in Zulema’s eyes changes, Macarena can see it happening. The brunette’s expression goes from nervous and unsure to appreciative and definitely head over heels in love with the young blonde next to her.
“Deal.”
The blonde smiles. She kisses Zulema’s cheek this time and takes the pieces of paper from her, before getting up from her chair with the intention of getting them some cold drinks from inside. Their roof terrace is connected to the living room with sliding doors and they usually have these open in the summer, making the outside space almost feel like an extension of their living space.
“I’ll buy you a ticket to Bali for your birthday,” Zulema mentions as Macarena steps over her legs on her way inside.
The blonde throws a dazzling smile over her shoulder. “I would love that,” she answers, already halfway to the kitchen. “Look at you being all nice to me today.”
“A one-way ticket it is, then!” Zulema calls after her in response.
“Shut up!” It immediately sounds from inside the flat.
A few days after, Macarena has a conversation with her manager at Libertad to talk about her plans and they decide that she can take some time off. The blonde has been working at the club for many years and although she’s a very valued employee, everyone understands that she wants to leave for a few months to be with Zulema.
However, this means that she’ll be leaving the club, her friends, her second home. Macarena decides that she can’t do that without throwing a goodbye party. Katia helps her with the organization and they make sure to plan it on the last Saturday before Maca leaves. Zulema is invited as well, obviously.
Saturday is always a busy day, but it’s even busier now everyone knows Macarena is leaving for a few months. Clients and employees, both on and off duty, come by to celebrate, have a few drinks and wish the blonde a good time on her trip. Zulema spends most of her time at the bar with her usual shot of tequila, while Macarena busies herself with saying goodbye to everyone - continuously mentioning that she’ll only be gone for a few months - and getting new drinks for them. Not that Zulema minds, though, because she’s perfectly content with just sitting here and watching. She occasionally talks to Katia when that one isn’t helping clients.
“Hola, amor,” Macarena appears out of nowhere and places a quick kiss on Zulema’s lips, before resting both hands on the brunette’s thighs and looking her in the eye. “I have a surprise for you.”
Zulema takes in her wife’s appearance; long blonde locks spilling over her shoulders, a little makeup, a simple black dress and low heels. Fucking gorgeous.
“And what may that be?”
“Just wait and see,” Macarena winks. “Keep a close eye on the stage, though.”
With that, she turns around and disappears into the crowd again.
Zulema looks at Katia, but that one simply shrugs. She’s not going to say anything, so the brunette has no other choice but to sit and wait.
Exactly five minutes later, the lights in the club dim and those on stage light up. The crowd notices the change immediately and goes relatively quiet, except for a few hushed conversations here and there and some people cheering at the idea of a surprise act.
The curtains on the left side move and the crowd starts to make some noise, until they see who’s walking onto the stage.
It’s Macarena.
The crowd goes wild now. The cheers from all sides are almost deafening; Zulema generally hates it when people yell for no reason, but decides that this time it’s allowed. They’re looking at the most gorgeous woman on the planet, after all.
Zulema leans on the edge of the bar and focuses on Macarena, admiring how beautiful her blonde looks, as the first notes of a song start to play. Zulema waits for other girls to join on stage for what will probably be another dance, striptease, or whatever it is Maca always does here. But the other girls don’t come.
The brunette frowns. She has absolutely no idea what’s going on and only notices what Macarena is holding in her hand when the blonde brings it to her lips.
And starts to sing.
"You lean on the edge of the bar
And you look at me with such eyes
And what if it’s a dream?
You pass by me and say hello
Your smile is like a little girl
Is this a crime?
When you touch my hand
And I feel the sky
And I’m wondering if this is a crime."
Zulema is in awe. Sure, the blonde sometimes sings when she’s in the shower and - much to the brunette’s frustration - when she’s cooking. However, she’s always singing along with the music, so Zulema has never gotten the chance to fully realize how beautiful Macarena’s voice is.
"And then I pass behind
And it’s a game they told me not to play
And then you kill my doubts, saying smile."
The blonde flashes a cheeky smile in the direction of Zulema. She doesn’t know exactly where the brunette is, because the lights on stage are shining in her eyes and she can’t see past the fourth row of people, but that doesn't really matter. Zulema will know.
She continues, finally at the part where the drums support her voice.
"Then my eyes just said go on
And my back could feel the cold
Then you take off all my clothes."
The events of the past years flash behind Zulema’s eyes like a short movie. From when she entered this club, to meeting Macarena, to sleeping with her, to now. To this moment right here, where she’s watching the blonde - her wife , mind you - performing on stage.
"And this is, baby this is, oh this is a crime
And I start to cry
Is this a crime?"
A trance. That’s how the entire performance feels to Zulema. Macarena is all there is and all she can focus on. It’s only at the end of the song, when the lights come back on and the crowd starts yelling, cheering and clapping, that Zulema slowly falls back into the real world.
“You’re really lucky,” Katia mentions, leaning over the bar. “Macarena is amazing.”
Zulema turns to the blonde bartender, the first person she got to know here in Libertad. “Yeah,” she replies. “I know.”
The brunette watches as her wife makes her way off the stage and through the crowd. She’s approached by almost everyone and it takes at least ten minutes before she’s even remotely close to Zulema.
Then, Zulema’s attention is drawn to a young brunette, probably around Saray’s age, who wraps an arm around Macarena and kisses both of her cheeks. They get wrapped up in a conversation and Zulema feels her cheeks flush as the young brunette puts her hand on Maca’s hip, slightly pulling her closer. She’s obviously flirting.
Macarena, on the other hand, knows exactly what’s happening. She also knows that Zulema is looking at her from her usual spot at the bar, because she can feel those eyes on her all the time. So, Macarena lets the young brunette in front of her try her chance at flirting while she makes eye contact with her wife.
Zulema looks mildly impressed, but her cheeks are flushed and she’s bouncing her leg. That’s all Maca needs to know. She turns her attention back to the woman in front of her and reaches out for her blouse, feeling the material between her fingers.
“Nice outfit,” she compliments. The brunette smiles, a bright and beautiful smile that obviously doesn’t go unnoticed by Zulema. “Thank you,” the woman answers and reaches out for Macarena’s dress, doing the exact same thing.
This is exactly what the blonde was going for. She’s provoking her wife by doing this and she knows that very well. It’s not enough to make her mad, but just enough to get her slightly irritated. The sex they’ll definitely have after this will only benefit from that.
Macarena waits a few more minutes before she excuses herself, telling the younger brunette that she has an appointment with someone and that she’ll find her later. She won’t, but the other woman doesn’t know that.
She finally arrives at the bar.
“Hi,” she greets Zulema.
That one takes a sip of her drink, a slightly playful but definitely dangerous expression on her face.
“It looked like you were enjoying yourself there, rubia.”
“I was,” Macarena replies. And then, to provoke her even more. “She’s pretty.”
Zulema jumps off the bar stool, standing to her full height. Her wife is wearing heels, though, so they're the same height today.
“Why don’t you fuck her then? If you think she’s pretty?” Zulema counters. It’s just a game between the two of them, but she can’t help feeling a little jealous. Macarena notices, of course. It’s the look in the brunette’s eyes.
“Sexy,” Macarena comments. She looks Zulema up and down, her eyes roaming over every inch of her body. She hasn’t had enough time tonight to appreciate her wife’s outfit; black skinny jeans and a see through, mesh top with red flames on it.
“Cómo?”
“I said,” Maca leans in until their lips almost touch, and she’s surprised that Zulema is letting things get this far with her current attitude. “That you’re sexy when you’re jealous.”
Zulema makes the last move and presses their lips together. It’s rough, but not enough to draw attention. She’s also the first to pull back and look into Maca’s light green eyes. They stare at each other in silence, words passing between them without having to speak.
Macarena is the first to make the actual move. She slips her hand into Zulema’s and pulls the brunette with her, throwing a wink at Katia who’s been watching the interaction between the two women.
Room 105 isn’t far away. Maca walks inside first and gets on the bed immediately, while the brunette closes the door behind them. Once more, they find themselves here.
Zulema doesn’t walk towards the bed. She walks over to the chair in the corner, sits down, and demonstratively crosses her arms.
“I’m not touching you.”
Macarena tilts her head, considering. If this is how Zulema wants to play it, she might just as well play along. She shifts upwards until her back hits the headboard and leans back, getting comfortable. Her legs are crossed at the ankles and her eyes meet Zulema’s.
“What are you going to do, then? Watch?”
Zulema frowns. “Watch what?”
“Watch me touch myself.”
“You wouldn’t,” Zulema replies, although there’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice. Years ago, when Zulema got jealous, Macarena would let the brunette have her right away. Now, she fights back. If Zulema pretends that she isn’t going to touch her, Macarena will do it herself.
“No?” the blonde counters innocently. “Alright.” She uncrosses her legs and spreads them without even the slightest hint of hesitation. Zulema’s breath quickens, but she doesn’t want Macarena to win. So, she remains where she is.
“I’m not touching you. I’ll watch,” Zulema repeats.
Macarena spreads her legs even more, until the brunette can get a full view of her black lace underwear. The blonde slowly runs one hand up her leg, loving how her wife can’t seem to look anywhere else, and finally reaches the place she wants to be. There’s no time to waste; Macarena is turned on, to say the least, and really fucking desperate.
She starts teasing herself over her underwear and lets out a gasp at the feeling. Her eyes close on their own accord only to open again a few seconds later, meeting dark green ones on the other side of the room.
“Still don’t want to touch?” Macarena breathes.
“No.”
“Vale.”
Macarena hooks her fingers in the waistband of her panties and pushes them over her hips and down her legs. They pool at her feet and she kicks them off, spreading once more for her wife. She leans back against the headboard and slides her hand up again, further and further, until it glides through warm wetness. Her breath hitches and she tries very hard to hold Zulema’s gaze.
She draws little circles around her clit, slowly building herself up, and it quickly becomes impossible to stay quiet. A moan slips past her lips and Zulema shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Macarena notices.
“Zulema,” she moans as she pushes two fingers inside. Her head falls back against the headboard at the sensation between her legs. It feels so fucking good.
On the other side of the room, the brunette is having a really hard time trying to control herself. She watches as Macarena moves her hand; her fingers are glistening with obvious arousal and Zulema has to bite down on the inside of her cheek to make sure a moan doesn’t slip out.
The blonde’s free hand slides up her body to cup her breast, hidden underneath her dress, and Zulema’s breath hitches. Having Macarena here like this, touching herself only for her to see, makes her feel a little better. There’s no one else Maca would do this with. She better not.
“Oh god,” Macarena moans as she curls her fingers, searching for that spot Zulema always knows to find within seconds, if she wants to. “Yes!”
The brunette’s heart is racing. She’s itching to touch the blonde, but she’s also very stubborn and doesn’t want to lose this game. Or whatever it is that they have going on. Is it worth it?
“I’m close,” Macarena manages.
No, Zulema decides. It’s not worth it. She doesn’t want this to happen; she doesn’t want to be watching as Macarena comes, she wants to be the one who’s making her. Within seconds, Zulema finds herself on the bed and pulls the blonde’s hand away from her center, before pushing it down onto the sheets.
Macarena’s eyes fly open. She flashes a cocky smile.
“Thought you wanted to watch?”
“Thought you wanted to come?” Zulema counters. Her own fingers slide down and inside of the blonde immediately, drawing a moan from her.
“Fuck,” Macarena pants. This is what she needed. “You’re good.”
Zulema grins into her neck. Yes, she’s aware of that. She’s known the young blonde for the better half of a decade now and knows exactly how to play her body and how to get her to the edge. Today is fast, rough, because they don’t have much time and they just need this right now. There’ll be time for softness later.
Zulema does that thing with her fingers where she curls them up and towards her, while her thumb touches Maca’s clit and draws quick circles. She barely notices when Macarena’s hands wrap themselves around her shoulders; it’s the familiar stinging pain of the blonde’s nails breaking the skin that makes her realize, and Zulema keeps up her pace because she knows Maca is almost there.
“Come for me,” she murmurs into the blonde’s ear. “Now.”
Macarena does. Arched back, parted lips and closed eyes. Although it’s been so long, Zulema still looks at her every single time, if the position allows her to.
Not even five minutes later, they part ways again. Zulema is going home and Macarena will stay at the party a little longer, to be with her friends and help with the cleaning afterwards.
“Two more days,” Maca mentions while she’s quickly fixing her hair in the tiny mirror next to the door. “I’m really excited for our trip.”
Portugal. Morocco. Egypt. Greece. Italy and finally Monaco. Those are the countries they’ll be visiting together during the next few months. The two women have already arranged everything; hotels are booked, apartments are rented, flights and other forms of transport have been taken care of. Now, they only have to wait a few more days until it's finally time to go.
Zulema comes to stand next to the blonde in the door opening, watching her.
“Yeah,” she mocks, her voice laced with sarcasm. “I can’t wait.”
The emphasis on the last word makes Macarena roll her eyes.
“With that attitude, I’ll leave you behind at the first airport,” she threatens.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, you should know that by now,” Zulema replies. She reaches into her pocket for her car keys and turns towards the hallway. “I’ll see you at home, rubia.”
“Vale. I think I’ll be back around eleven. Twelve, tops,” Macarena replies. And then calls after the brunette, who’s already on her way downstairs. “Love you!”