“See something you like?”
Alicia’s eyes dart back to her phone, but the screen is black and Elyza knows she isn’t looking at it, just like she knows Alicia was just staring at her chest.
“Sorry. Spaced out.”
“What were you thinking about?” Elyza says it with a cockily raised eyebrow and Alicia subconsciously raises one of her own in defense. Elyza is flirting, but she can subvert that, challenge it. Just because she’s a bottom doesn’t mean she has to act like one.
“Just wondering why I’ve literally never seen you wear a bra. Weird Australian fashion trend?”
“It’s hard to find a bra my size in the middle of an apocalypse. But you wouldn’t know about that would you, sweetheart?” Elyza casts a judgemental glare down at Alicia’s chest, and Alicia raises her hands and her phone self-consciously in retaliation, blocking Elyza’s gaze.
“I can get you a bra,” Alicia says, as if she’s got a whole drawer full of them taken as prizes from past lovers. Elyza might have to raid the Clark home for more than food later. “Running commando from zombies can’t exactly be comfortable. You need to wear one.”
“Only if you take off the one you’re wearing and give it to me.”
Alicia’s pupils widen in surprise for just a fraction of a second before she squints her eyes again defensively. “It wouldn’t fit, remember?”
Elyza shrugs, all too confidant. “Maybe I was wrong. We won’t know unless we check.”
“It’s really obvious you’re just trying to get me naked.”
“It’s really obvious you’re not as straight as you say you are.”
“I have a boyfriend.”
“Your boyfriend’s a zombie.”
“Wow. Thanks for reminding me why I’m dead inside.”
“I bet I can make you feel alive again.”
It’s such a cheesy line that Alicia can't help but laugh. “You’re really persistent, you know that?”
Elyza shrugs again. She knows it’s not an insult, knows she isn't pushing Alicia too far. If she was, she would stop. “You see any other cute girls for me to hook up with around here?”
The house is empty, so, no, but Alicia opens her mouth before she can close it. “Ofelia.”
Elyza cocks an eyebrow. It’s the only thing she likes to cock more than guns. “‘Ofelia,’” she repeats, testing the name on her tongue and trying to imitate the unashamed enthusiasm with which Alicia said her name. “So you think Ofelia’s hot?”
Alicia rolls her eyes, but it does little to hide her blush. “I didn't say that. You heard me wrong.”
“You’re right. I think I did hear you wrong because all I heard was ‘threesome.’”
Alicia laughs again, that kind of fed up, half-annoyed, half-amused snort she reserves solely for Elyza, but then her eyes go dark and her mouth goes silent and her teeth peek out to pry at her bottom lip.
Whatever thought she just had, she liked it.
She liked it a lot.
Elyza can already feel the slickness between her thighs when she stands up, puts her shotgun on the coffee table between them and moves to sit on the couch with Alicia.
“So when do your parents get back?”
She takes Alicia’s arm, forces her to lay her phone down on the table beside the shotgun. Her earphones tap lightly against the glass, but the sound fades away quickly, is replaced by the pulse of her heart in her ears as she traces her fingers over the drawing on Alycia’s arm, feels her jeaned thighs scrape against Alicia’s bare ones on the sofa.
“We’re in the middle of the zombie apocalypse. It’s not a question of when they get back but if they will at all.”
Elyza nods her head. She gets the worry. Even if she doesn’t get it. She doesn’t have family to worry about. Not anymore.
“Want me to take your mind off everything?”
Her fingers trail upward, crawl like spiders up Alicia’s arm. Alicia’s skin prickles in response. She shudders and it leaves Elyza shuddering, too, squeezing her thighs together and trying not to get too carried away.
“You have to stop doing that.”
Elyza does. Her hands still. She waits for Alicia to move away.
“Okay, I didn’t exactly mean that literally.”
Elyza smirks. “Want me to keep going?”
Alicia is officially silenced. All she gives is a nod, and Elyza’s fingers are moving again, trailing up past the crease in her elbow, around the bend of her shoulder, until her fingers are hooked beneath Alicia’s bra strap, toying with the black fabric, bending it down ever so slightly around Alicia’s shoulder.
Alicia gives another nod.
Elyza’s more riled up than she thinks she is. She takes off Alicia’s shirt and her bra in one fluid motion. Somehow. She doesn’t know how. Everything is blind lust and her eyes are closed as she leans in, meeting Alicia’s lips halfway in a kiss.
She has definitely done this before.
No way the girl is straight.
Elyza can’t keep her tongue contained. Or her hands. This isn’t slow. It’s sloppy and fast and the way she paws at Alicia’s breasts, cupping them as fully in her hands as she can, is indicative of just how long it’s been since she’s gotten laid.
(That’s really not her fault though. The zombie apocalypse is a bitch on a person’s sex life.)
Alicia’s hands find Elyza’s chest in turn, groping over the fabric, and for a second Elyza wonders if maybe she really is straight. She grasps like a teenage boy, desperate and inexperienced, and it shows that she’s picked up the tactics from shitty ex-boyfriends. Elyza takes her own shirt off for her, pulling it over her head and draping it across the back of the sofa.
If the gloss in Alicia’s eyes means anything, she’s not nearly as upset about Elyza not owning a bra anymore.
Elyza uses the moment of weakness to push Alicia down, lay her along the length of the couch. Elyza tries not to get off right then and there on the sight of Alicia looking up at her, eyes hungry.
Jeans to jean shorts, Elyza straddles her, grinding down where their centers meet until she’s forced to close her eyes and hum a little - just a little, just enough to hopefully get Alicia as riled up as she is.
Blindly, Elyza reaches for Alicia’s hands and places them, fingers spread, across her chest. Alicia doesn't need any guiding after that. It’s as if instinct has taken over and she knows exactly what to do, knows exactly how to pinch Elyza’s nipples between her fingers and knead her flesh between palms much softer than Elyza’s own.
It’s when Alicia leans up and takes a nipple in her mouth that Elyza really loses it, panties wetter than she’d like to admit and hips gyrating more than a compass at the North Pole. She almost loses control when Alicia speaks again.
“I have a bed, you know.”
“You also have a couch.”
Suffering the loss of warm mouth on her nipples, Elyza pushes Alicia down again, makes her submit, and she does. When Elyza pulls down on her shorts, she scoots up just enough to help them roll completely off her hips and fall to the floor without much caution paid as to whether or not she’ll be able to quickly retrieve them and slip them back on should her parents pull up in the driveway soon. She let's her underwear fall somewhere beside them, forgotten.
Her family is the last thing on her mind right now.
She watches Elyza slip out of her jeans and underwear with a newfound hunger for Australian ass, and the first thing Alicia does when Elyza climbs back on top of her is fill her hands with those cheeks, push Elyza closer to her until their cores are practically grinding together, clothes no longer stopping their skin from meeting. Elyza meets Alicia on her level, leans down to whisper in her ear, blonde hair scraping against the couch cushions.
“What kind of girl are you, Lic? Fingers, tongue, or both?”
It’s a trap. It’s all a scheme to get Alicia to admit that she’s been with women before, that she has a preference for how she likes those women to fuck her.
Alicia falls right into it. Willingly.
The bluntness catches Elyza off guard and Alicia wipes the smirk off of her face with a kiss so searing Elyza might think she’d already started a fire to keep them warm at night. But Alicia’s words and her tongue on her bottom lip are all she needs to follow through.
Alicia is wet. Like. Soaked. Girl has it bad, and here Elyza thought she was the one losing her mind. She admires Alicia’s resilience, her composure. She’s a sucker for a good poker face, but Alicia leaves none of her pleasure left unexpressed as Elyza slips two fingers into her as requested. Alicia’s mouth opens in sync with her walls, letting a low sigh pass her lips as Elyza passes her entrance, buries herself deep where Alicia wants her.
She strokes in all the right places, flicking her wrist in upward motions, in circular ones, leaving no inch of Alicia’s walls unmassaged. She’s in control and she’s in the zone until Alicia’s hand is right there with her, between both of their legs and slipping past Elyza’s folds to rub precise circles against her clit. Elyza’s knees buckle ever so slightly at the contact and her weight drops. Briefly she wonders if the imprint of them fucking on the sofa will ever come out.
“I take it you’re a finger girl, too?” Alycia asks, smug, and Elyza responds with a sharp nibble to Alicia’s bottom lip, silencing her and putting her back in her place.
“I prefer three.”
Alicia listens, and Elyza is not prepared for it. The pressure that comes with Alicia’s third finger slipping inside her core is enough to make her cum right then. She doesn't, though. She holds out. Quick refractory time be damned. She’s going to make Alicia cum first no matter how many orgasms she personally has in a row directly afterwards.
For reinforcement, Elyza’s thumb gently hammers down on Alicia’s clit, rubbing in messy sideways motions that get the job done no matter how out of sync her fingers are.
There’s a fight between them, a quest to make the other break down her walls first.
No one wins.
No one loses either.
They’re so in sync when they cum that it’s impossible to tell who breaks first. The puddle in Elyza’s hand alone is enough to get her off, and she knows she may have slipped, but she refuses to incriminate herself as Alicia’s orgasm lasts much longer. Alicia’s body is still writhing against Elyza’s fingers when Elyza regains her breath, her panting subsiding for more husky, purposeful inhales. As she waits for Alicia to come down, she kisses her pulse point, feels the vein throb between her lips, and, if it feels anything remotely close to this, Elyza can make peace with the fact that she’s probably going to be a zombie someday.
With only minimal protest they eventually manage to extricate their hands from between each other’s legs. They’re far more reluctant to separate their bodies, though, and their fingers just end up tangled in each other’s hair as they kiss or their hands intertwined as they lazily rest on the couch like this is any other Sunday afternoon, skin to skin and with a breeze floating in light from the open window.
This is the first time since they’ve met that they’ve been alone together and not talked. It’s easier than either of them expected. Comfortable. They don't need words to fill the space. But maybe that’s the post-coital bliss talking.
“You’re cute when you’re quiet,” Alicia decides.
“Don't get used to it,” Elyza warns. “I just need a nap right now.”
Alicia chuckles and Elyza feels the rumble in her chest where her head rests against Alicia’s cleavage. It’s a deep, soothing sound, like thunderstorms at night. She’s almost asleep when Alicia talks again.
“I didn't think my boobs would be big enough to be your pillow.”
Elyza is too tired to laugh and too in the wrong to defend herself.