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Carol hadn't stopped trembling since she'd first caught sight of Zosia, standing there at the end of her driveway as if she'd never left. Zosia, who was, impossibly, here, one arm wrapped strongly around her waist and the other looped over her shoulder, her thumb gently stroking back and forth, her touch something Carol can feel even through the shirt she'd worn.
Embarrassingly, she'd started crying as soon as she'd made contact with the other woman, at once having the realization that she was real, she was here, and Carol could hold her. Could feel her breathing, smell the lavender and moonshine perfume she'd worn today, a limited edition scent that had been created for the second boxed set of Wycaro. She took a breath. One thing she could feel, she thought, trying to ground herself against the isolation that she had just escaped.
She could feel the weight of Zosia's head resting on top of her own, the ends of her hair as it tickled her cheek, the steady grip of her arms as she practically held Carol up, not once complaining about the length of the hug or the fact that she'd collapsed like dead weight into the readily offered embrace, having at last folded under the weight of her own loneliness and into the relief of finally seeing another human being again.
She was real, Carol reminded herself, she knew that for certain. She was here. Zosia held onto her just as tightly as she herself was, supporting her, a gentle but unmoving presence as Carol trembled and cried in her arms, great hiccuping sobs that shook her whole body. A steady hand smoothed its way over her back, pulling her out of her racing thoughts and into the present. She only gripped Zosia tighter in response, pushing her head even more firmly into the other woman's shoulder as she tried to get even closer, clinging to the steadiness she exuded, in sharp contrast to Carol’s unsteady form.
Zosia stumbled slightly at her pushing, and sank down, taking the both of them safely to the ground. Carol let it happen, still clinging onto the fabric of her shirt, entirely uncaring for how she had taken the both of them to the pavement or for the way they were now sitting on the dirty asphalt of her street.
Zosia tensed slightly, a minute twitch in her muscles as they settled on the ground, something Carol only noticed because of how tightly she was wrapped around her, hesitated, then moved, pulling her into her lap with a strength that Carol hadn't known she had and gently stroking a hand over her hair.
Carol half hated herself for what she did next, because she had to remember that this person, this body holding her wasn't truly real, just a convenient face that the world had thought she'd like, but she leaned into her touch, her skin crawling with some urge more animal then human, desperate to get as close as she could to Zosia. Even as the seconds stretched into minutes, the strength of Zosia's grip still matched Carol’s, never once faltering. Providing a steady anchor that Carol could cling to.
Her breaths were even. Calm, a metronome Carol could measure herself against, but the slight tightening of her fingers in Carol's shirt, the hitch in her breath after every exhale told Carol a different story. Zosia was relieved, even if in some small way, to be here, now, in her presence once again. Zosia misses you, she remembered Koumba telling her, and for the first time since hearing those words, she let herself believe that it hadn't been something he had only said to comfort her.
Zosia had missed her.
Carol didn't know how long they had been sitting there when she finally stopped crying, her breath hitching with the last few hiccuping sobs. Long enough for her feet to fall asleep, pins and needles shooting through her legs when she tried to move them, but not long enough for the sun to have moved much. Long enough for embarrassment to burn at her cheeks, but not long enough that she had gained the will to let go of the grip she had on the other woman.
Carol refused to look up to see Zosia's face. Even if she had just spent the past several minutes sobbing in her arms, she didn't want Zosia-and by default the rest of the world-to see the physical proof of that. Of how their leaving had affected her. It felt too raw. Too much like the surrender she had already given in to, like showing her wounded belly. So instead she just sat there, her head cradled by Zosia's hand on the back of it, pressed into the fabric of her ribbed shirt. It would leave a pattern on her skin when she finally pulled away, Carol thought, and she wanted that more then she wanted to admit. Wanted the physical proof that she had been held. That she was no longer alone anymore.
"We're happy you asked us to come back, Carol.” Zosia eventually said, the first words she had spoken since she’d arrived.
Carol scoffed. Yes, she really felt the world's yearning to come back to her in the forty days of seeing absolutely no one, her only human contact their voicemail message.
"We are, Carol. We missed you." Zosia insisted, shifting in place, adjusting Carol so she could see her face, which, true to her word, held no lie. She didn't let go of her grip, but for a stomach-dropping instant, Carol thought she was getting up to leave.
“No." She gasped, gripping Zosia tighter in response. Forty days ago, she would have been embarrassed. Forty days ago, she would have fought this with every fiber of her being. But that was forty days ago. Before Carol had spent every day devoid of any company other then her own voice. Before she had looked at a lit firework and decided she might as well be dead. Now, in the present, Carol clung to Zosia eagerly, wanting nothing more then to ensure that she would stay.
The other woman's hand ran down her spine, stroking a line to her tailbone, where it stayed. Her grip tightened on Carol’s waist, pulling her out of her racing thoughts. "We're not leaving you." Zosia reassured, murmuring the words into her hair. A beat later, she pressed a kiss to where she'd whispered the words, her lips lingering on Carol's skin for several long moments. To her shame, even that brief intimacy spurred Carol to squirm closer. "This body is simply able to hold you for longer this way."
Carol shivered even in the heat of Albuquerque's sun, even at the blatant reminder of the world living inside the woman holding her, too caught by the echo of Zosia's breath against her skin to think straight. Even the millimeters of separation between them suddenly felt like too much, like every inch of her skin that wasn't touching Zosia's needed to be doing so.
In response to the sudden, all consuming want that she could only give into, she pulled back from Zosia's embrace, making sure one of her hands was still around the other's shoulder. Her other hand tugged at the hem of her shirt. Zosia shifted, letting the sunlight fall onto her face, and Carol was abruptly reminded that they were outside, where anyone could see.
And the thing is-she knows the world is not the same anymore. Knows that the world is seven billion people in the skin of one woman, in the skin of the one holding her. She knows this. She understands.
And yet, despite everything, that stomach churning feeling, that caught, bug under a microscope awareness that had seeped into even the love Carol had for Helen soured in her stomach. Helen, who had known Carol, known almost everything about her, every hurt Carol guarded so fiercely, and had decided she loved her despite it. Even here and now, that careful watchfulness bloomed again, like a sickness under her skin, and Carol suddenly felt all too vulnerable and exposed. She knows the whole world minus twelve is already watching her, has probably been for the last month and a half through the eyes of that creepy Reaper thing Zosia had mentioned the first time she'd met her, knows that they've seen and were seeing her break down through Zosia's eyes, are Zosia.
It doesn’t matter. She couldn’t make it not matter, even now, after the end of the world she’d known.
She shifted around in Zosia's lap, keeping a hand on her all the while. She knows, logically, that Zosia won't disappear if she lets go of her. Knows that Zosia was real, that she was here, that she wasn't a figment of Carol's lonely imagination. But this has nothing to do with what Carol knows, and everything to do with what she feels.
"We should…" Carol started hesitantly, "we should go inside." For a moment, only a moment, Carol was afraid Zosia would hesitate. That she would say she couldn't, or that they'd only came to visit her for a short time, and they're leaving her again soon. That they still need their space, that they didn't trust Carol enough to enter her house, or one of the million other reasons they might have for abandoning her again.
Then the other woman stroked her thumb over her shoulder, clutching her the slightest bit tighter to her body. "We love you." Zosia promised, nothing but warmth pouring from every syllable, and Carol knew that they did. The very act of Zosia saying ‘I love you’ had made it, impossibly, true.
But even so…"I want you to stay with me." She blurted out before she could think, before she could give herself a reason not to.
Zosia's smile widened, looking for all the world like Carol had just presented her the thing she wanted most in the world rather then demanding she follow her into her house, a house where, the last time she'd been inside, she'd gotten blown up by a grenade. "Of course Carol. Zosia will come with you." It's not exactly what Carol meant, but it's much less embarrassing then what she actually did mean, so for now she didn't correct her.
It took the two of them a few minutes to get into the house, something Carol would probably find the presence of mind to be embarrassed about later. Most of the issue was her inability to stop clinging to Zosia's side like a limpet, her fingers an iron grip on the other, their reluctance to let go rendering her practically a dead weight against Zosia’s side.
She didn't seem to mind in the slightest, her eyes warm and touch gentle as she soothed Carol every few steps, reaching up to scratch at the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, or smooth a hand down Carol's side, her touch lingering just a second too long to be entirely friendly if this had been before the world ended.
Even with all of the pauses, they eventually made it to her living room. Carol stopped in the middle. Getting inside her house was the extent of her plan, and now that that had happened, she wasn't really sure where to go from here, how to ask for what she wanted. She knew she wanted to be closer to Zosia, needed to really, but what she meant by that exactly escaped her. Just… she wanted to be closer.
The moment stretched out, Carol silently staring at Zosia, her fingers clutching at her side. Zosia shifted slightly towards Carol, looking to her in concern. Her eyes are so dark and deep, one pupil wider then the other. Carol could easily get lost in them. "Carol?" She ran a hand down her arm, prompting her out of her disjointed thoughts. "Carol, whatever it is you wish us to do, we would be more then happy-“
"Sit, please." Carol said the first thing that popped to her mind, blurting it out before she could rationalize herself out of it. Zosia did, keeping her eyes on Carol all the while, her gaze open and knowing, her attention soft and focused entirely on her in a way that might be unnerving if she didn't crave it so much.
"Who did Zosia like?" Carol said quickly, not knowing where she was going with this, exactly, but knowing she needed to ask. "Before…all of this." She gestured around the two of them. "Before you. Did she like women?"
"Yes." The answer came fast, a reassurance. "This individual was attracted to women."
Carol paused. Almost didn't want to know the answer to what she asked next. But it was important. "Would she have been attracted to me, specifically? Not just women? Would she have…"
She trailed off, not sure what to ask next, but Zosia answered her anyways, her eyes warm. "She would have been. She is." They do not elaborate, perhaps not thinking they needed to.
"And you, you’re-“ She let the sentence die again, not sure where she was going with this, what she wanted to ask. Except for the fact that she knew exactly where she is going with this.
They tilted Zosia's head. "We want to make you happy, in whatever form that takes, Carol.” Carol blinked. What kind of…But that was the best answer she's going to get, isn't it? They want to make her happy. She froze for several long seconds, her hands opening and closing on empty air, grasping nothing. Is she really going to do this?
"Carol…" Zosia prompted tentatively, hovering a hand over her waist, so, so careful, and Carol decided in that instant that yes, she is, practically falling onto Zosia's lap. Zosia let out a startled oomf, her thighs flexing beneath her for an instant before she reached up to steady Carol on her lap, her body softening from its more rigid posture. Welcoming her. "Carol." She sighed easily, her hands coming up, cradling her jaw and stroking her thumbs over the planes of her face.
Carol melted into her, and for a long time, the only sound between them was the soft puffs of her breath against Zosia's shirt.
Then, something shifted. Delicate hands moved, one tugging lightly at the roots of her hair, the other hand settling firmly on her back. Grounding her to this moment. "Would it make you happy for us to kiss you?" From the way Zosia asked, her eyes flickering to Carol's lips and then down, Carol knew precisely what she meant.
Worse, in that instant she realized she wanted it.
Unconsciously, her eyes drifted to where Helen's headstone is. A stab of guilt sunk into her stomach, but it wasn't enough to stop her. Not now. And if she believed them-and she did, they'd told her they ate people, for Christs sake, they wouldn't have revealed that unless they had no other choice-Helen was still there, a part of them. Living inside Zosia, inside all of them. It is a twisted comfort, but Carol found it was the only one she could cling to now.
Carol's eyes drifted back to Zosia just as the other woman tilted her head, her nose scrunched up in a way that made Carol want to bite the bridge of it.
Their faces were so close.
Her eyes dropped to Zosia's lips and lingered there. She licked her own lips, felt Zosia watching her as she did. Watched the other woman’s lips part, just the tiniest bit. Hears the sound of her own breath in the space between them, audible even though Zosia had barely touched her.
The space between them was held, caught in the tension in between them. Her legs squeezed, thighs trying to press together only to be stopped by the existence of Zosia’s body between them. The other woman’s lips curled into a smile, entirely too knowing, and Carol-if this happened before, before they'd left her, before the heavy weight of just how alone she was, how alone she could be again if they decided to leave had settled onto her, Carol might have hated herself. Now, with the heavy, sinking weight of isolation laid upon her shoulders, Carol understood.
Now, she found a nauseating comfort in the way Zosia’s hands squeezed her sides as she leaned up to reach her, her lips just a breath away from Carol's. She waited there, patiently, for Carol to cross the final few millimeters.
Her dark eyes flickered between Carol's lips and her eyes, her stare becoming weighted. Heavy. Carol took a breath. From the moment she’d called them back, called her back, she was never going to make any other decision, she realized in an instant, closing the gap.
Their lips touch, blowing far past the chaste kiss Carol had thought she’d intended as soon as she tastes the vanilla chapstick on Zosia’s lips. The other woman responded eagerly, arching towards her. Carol led the kiss at first, moaning into her mouth as Zosia's lips caressed hers smoothly, the tip of a wet tongue darting out to lick at the seam of her lips. She gasped against Zosia’s mouth, catching her breath, and the other woman moved, one hand traveling from her hair to cup her jaw, holding Carol firmly in place, and the other moving from its respectful place on her waist to her ass, kneading the flesh there and pulling her ever closer at the same time.
Against her will, Carol moaned again, sinking into the feeling. She was closer then she has ever been to the other woman, closer then Carol had been in years to anyone besides Helen, and it was still not enough to sooth the shivery, anxious feeling underneath her skin. She needed her even closer, pressing her body down onto Zosia’s, grinding her center-which she realized was wet, far wetter then she should be, just from a little heavy kissing-on the other woman’s thighs.
Zosia broke the kiss, nipping lightly at her jaw, stilling Carol. Allowing her time to breathe. The press of her teeth against Carol’s skin was grounding, not enough to hurt but enough to feel. She took a quick, quiet gasp of air before she leaned back down, reconnecting their lips. Her hips jolt forward, and Zosia guides her, hands on her waist pushing her down firmly against her jeans. The pressure was good, but not enough, too many layers of clothes between the two of them to be what Carol needs.
She groaned into the expanse of skin she was kissing, frustrated, and moves her hands from where they had been bunched in Zosia's top, sliding them underneath the shirt. Zosia's skin was warm and soft under her touch. When she moves her hand again, tugging at the strap of her bra with a franticness that came from desperation, Carol could feel the raised edge of a scar underneath her thumb. Zosia gasped at her touch, sounding more pained than anything, and Carol quickly pulled her hand back, the sound jolting her out of the haze she’d fallen into.
"Sorry! I'm sorry."
Zosia shook her head, grasping onto her hand, guiding it back to cover the scar. "You didn't hurt us. The skin there is just sensitive. It felt…good." With a steady hand, she gently pressed Carol's fingers down, guiding her to touch the newly healed scar once again. Zosia breathed out at her touch, a low groan falling from her lips, one which brought another flash of heat between Carol's thighs, no matter how she tried to ignore it in favor of guilt. "I…did this. Didn't I? It's my fault." Carol asked, her voice caught in her throat, choked with horror and the edge of something else. Something darker, something that Carol instinctively shied away from even as her grip tightened on Zosia's body.
Zosia shook her head, leaning back into her once more before answering. "We told you, that isn't how you should think of it, not at all. You didn't understand what we had given you, and we do not blame you. And…" She looked away then, almost…shy.
"Tell me?" Carol requested, lightly touching her jaw to draw Zosia's attention back to her.
"We…in fact, we rather like them. Zosia's scars are something you gave us. We look upon them fondly whenever we miss you too badly. Whenever the ache of your absence from us becomes too much to bear. We cherish the marks you left us, and Zosia touches them frequently."
Carol froze in place, eyes caught wide. "Carol, if we made you uncomfortable-" Carol shook her head, kissing Zosia again, her stomach twisting with something she didn't want to name.
She pressed her hand more firmly against Zosia’s scar, this time not ignoring the arousal that came with her touch. ”You didn't." It was strange, considering that what they were currently doing, but what Zosia had said, even with her clinical phrasing, had sounded…entirely too devoted, too focused on her, and her alone, to be something that they had meant. Right? Zosia broke away from the kiss first, moaning again, arching into Carol’s hand at her back and stretching her neck up at the same time, nipping at the skin right to the side of her bra line. Her dark eyes looked up at her, the emotion in them somewhere between loving and lustful as she catalogued Carol’s body, focusing longer on spots that spurred the loudest sounds from Carol.
Learning her body all on her own.
Caught in her gaze, Carol thought she may need to reevaluate what she had thought she'd known before.
In the end, it was her who looked away first, gasping for breath even though her mouth hadn’t been the one occupied.
"Wait, wait, stop." She said, pushing at Zosia's shoulders, overwhelmed in the face of her careful attention.
The other woman leaned back, disconnecting her lips from Carol’s body and moved her hands back to Carol's waist. "We're sorry Carol, we didn't mean to upset you." Zosia's voice was rougher then it had been before, her eyes lingering on the skin she'd just been kissing. After a moment, Zosia blinked, as if realizing for the first time just where she had been looking and quickly raised her eyes to meet Carol's, revealing an expression of absolute devastation at the thought she might have overstepped.
But even as she stopped kneading her ass, Zosia didn't stop touching her. Didn't stop looking at her with that focused, heavy gaze, a gaze that felt almost like a physical weight against her skin. Carol’s hips twitched again, the pressure helping to clear her mind just the slightest bit as she forced herself to focus past her arousal, a low moan slipping past her lips. "You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?"
Zosia's head tilted, looking up at her through her lashes. "We just want to make you feel better, Carol." She said, her eyes dark and glimmering and entirely too wide to believe. If Zosia had said that before her month and a half alone, or even before she'd kissed her, Carol might have snapped at her for it. That look was weak, a weak distraction that Helen always used to use when she wanted to change the subject, and Carol always knew what she was doing but she'd let her anyways, because she loved her, because there was nothing more that she liked more then being buried finger deep in her wife, or her wife being buried in her, and they shouldn't be using it here, now, not when she'd said that Helen was off limits.
Here and now, however, she pressed herself back firmly against Zosia's skin, caught by just how much she wanted the other woman to keep touching her like that. How much she wanted this.
"Yeah, okay." She muttered, reaching out to kiss her again.
Zosia smiled against her lips, warm and bright and smug, or at least as smug as anyone could be now. Her mouth was pliant against Carol's, soft but leading.
Her touch drifted from Carol's waist again, running her thumb over the waistline of her pants, dipping underneath to run a finger along the line of her underwear. Carol shuddered when she brushed against a particularly sensitive spot for her, right over her hipbone, a full body reaction that she had always been embarrassed about. Zosia's eyes crinkled as she brushed over the same spot again, jolting another shudder out of Carol, and oh yes, they're definitely doing that on purpose.
Zosia's fingers slid down, landing between her open thighs. They lowered to the damp patch on Carol's underwear, meeting the evidence of her arousal, of just how affected she’d been by time they’d spent with their lips against each other, and her breath caught. She stopped there, just barely touching where Carol needed her, and Carol fought the urge to whine, to squirm closer. Zosia looked back up at her, her eyes dark and shining in the light coming through the windows, and her breathing much faster than normal.
"We would like to touch you here. Would that please you?" God, she sounded desperate, even as she tried to keep an even tone, using that abominable wording. Even as she held what Carol needed just out of her reach. The muscles of her thighs flexed underneath her as she spoke, and with the evidence of Zosia’s desire, Carol suddenly felt a whole lot more confident. She raised both of her eyebrows. "I don't know. Would it? Can you say it properly?"
Zosia looked down, her gaze distant. Consulting with the seven point two billion people she was a part of, and Carol was reminded, quite abruptly, that Zosia wasn't just Zosia. She was them, she was everyone, one cog in the wheel of the world.
Her stomach twisted in uneasiness. She hadn't forgotten, not exactly, but it was easy to put the knowledge to the back of her mind when it was just the two of them here. Her skin crawled with the same staticky feeling as before, the urge to get closer, to keep Zosia in her sight always pressing against her ribs, and she put the knowledge out of her mind. It was something that would have set off alarm bells in pre isolation Carol, but it still wasn't enough for her to stop this.
"We think so!" Zosia blinked back to awareness and says brightly. "And fun fact, the clitoris has about 10,000 nerve fibers, did you know?" She said it at the same time that she moved, her hand slipping inside the band of her underwear, circling her fingers lower and just barely brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves there. Carol's hips jolted, another moan falling from her lips as Zosia smeared her wetness precisely through her folds. "So it's very sensitive,” she added with a smirk.
"I-" Carol gasped, her stomach jolting at Zosia's low tone, even as Zosia's fingers started to circle around her clit, a slow, massaging touch that only ever glanced by the place she needed her the most. "Say it properly." She managed to insist, more a gasp than a demand, but Zosia responded anyways.
"Of course Carol." Zosia answered, her smile spreading in a way that makes Carol deliciously afraid. "We would like to fuck you. Will you let us?" Carol didn't respond in words, instead shimmying out of her underwear and grasping at Zosia's wrist. Her hand covered the other's, guiding her to where she really needed it, pressing over her clit and circling softly. At the first touch of their joined hands against her, Carol's hips shuddered, pressing more firmly into their shared touch, easier then she had ever been after so long without human contact, and she realized abruptly that just from that, faster then ever before, she was close, her hips lazily rolling against Zosia's fingers-longer then hers, Carol noticed absently-as she pressed firm circles into Carol's flesh, focused now that Carol had asked it, bringing her ever closer to an edge that Carol was sure would shatter her. They stay in that rhythm, Carol so wet that Zosia's hand was drenched after a minute, and Carol's along with it.
Zosia panted beneath her, mouth wet against her shoulder, then moved, her lips catching Carol's once again. Beneath Carol, her thighs pressed together again, hips rolling up to meet their joined hands, the press of her hips grinding the palm of her hand up into Carol's mons, trapping her clit. With one last jolt of her hips, Carol broke, her stomach tensing sharply, tears squeezing out of the corners of her eyes, her walls fluttering around nothing as she moaned blatantly into Zosia's open mouth. Just as Carol came, Zosia tensed beneath her, her hand stuttering in its rhythm. She let out a breathy gasp, the grip Zosia had on her waist digging into Carol's bare skin for several long moments as she fought to gather herself.
Carol sunk down, trapping Zosia's hand underneath her, and paused. "Did you just…"
Zosia's breath evened out, and she looked to the side as she answered. "We're sorry for losing control like we did. If you'd have preferred us not to come, we can try again, we just-bringing you your pleasure, it brings us great fulfillment."
"Jesus Christ." Carol groaned, dropping her head to the other woman's shoulder. She shuddered when the bare skin of her ass brushed against the rough fabric of Zosia's jeans. Sensing Carol’s discomfort, the other woman moved her hand, so that she was sitting on her rather then her jeans. The position was one Carol knew from experience would cause her a cramp in her wrist soon. "You can just say you came from getting me off, you know."
Zosia tilted her head, her eyes dark and weighted, and suddenly, Carol felt all too much like she'd lost control of where this was going. "We came from getting you off, Carol." She practically purred, her mouth lingering around every word. Fuck. Carol's thighs tried to press together, only to be stopped-again-by the fact that she is straddling the other woman, something that Zosia definitely had caught, if the smug look in her eyes was any indication.
As she recovered, Zosia's fingers started moving again, gentle circles on her overstimulated nerves. It took longer then the first time to get Carol to the edge, not that that is much of a feat, and Zosia's touch was lighter this time, moving between those gentle circles rubbed into her clit, tracing the sensitive skin at her entrance, and guiding Carol to grind against her flexed thigh and the rough fabric of her jeans, firmly enough to leave a wet spot on Zosia's pants, one that Carol didn't think would come out anytime soon. Some possessive part of her, a part that usually only came out around Helen, was glad for it, twisting sharply in her chest as she looked down at the other woman.
Carol came a few minutes later with a muffled whine, followed shortly by Zosia, who must surely have soaked the couch by now, that is if Carol hadn't done so first. "You did so well, made me so happy." This time, knowing what she did from Zosia's first orgasm, Carol cooed her praise out loud, against Zosia's lips. Zosia's hips stuttered, a moan falling from her lips, then, seeming to just know that Carol can’t take any more, she pulled away. Her entire hand was wet, glistening down her wrist and onto her forearm. Carol might have felt embarrassed, except for the fact that Zosia had just come, twice, from getting her off.
"Can you-" Carol asked, lifting herself up so that Zosia isn't holding her weight up as well, tugging at the button of Zosia's jeans. She didn't want this to be over, didn’t want them to leave her alone again, even just to sleep, but more then that, she wanted to taste the other woman. Her mouth watered just thinking about it.
Zosia nodded eagerly, understanding what she meant, because of course she did, lifting her hips to help Carol's unsuccessful efforts.
Her jeans come off quickly, aided by Zosia's eagerness to help. Her legs spread wider, letting Carol smell the musky scent that was uniquely Zosia's. "Can I-" She asked, already reaching for the elastic of Zosia's underwear, a plain but pretty blue color with a large wet patch in the center.
"Of course, but this individual does not require-"
For a moment, Carol felt guilty. What if Zosia, the original Zosia, wouldn't want this? What if They were asking, in their most roundabout way, because they couldn’t say no to her, for Carol to stop? But then Zosia's hips stutter, the patch of dark blue where the gusset of Zosia's underwear was spreading just that much bigger, and Carol didn’t think that was the case.
"I want to eat you out." Carol broke in, looking up at Zosia's face. "It would make me very, very happy to eat you out. To eat this individual out. Would you like me to?"
"We would-" Zosia broke off, sounding entirely overwhelmed. "We would like that."
Carol smiled up at her, settling herself neatly between Zosia's legs, her knees aching just slightly, but she ignored it. "Wait, let us get-" Zosia moved, reaching for one of Carol's throw pillows and placing it on the floor beneath her, helping Carol settle gently on top of the soft cushion. Carol would never admit it, but her knees thanked her.
"We wouldn't want to strain your knees." She teased good naturedly, and Carol huffed. Of course she would know about that. Well, they'd see if she'd be laughing after Carol got her mouth on her.
Carol started slow, pressing short, sweet kisses to the inside of Zosia's thighs, close to the source of her slick wetness but not quite where she knew Zosia needed her. Zosia squirmed uncomfortably, inching closer to Carol's mouth, but she didn’t say anything, probably too concerned with making Carol as happy as she could be. Carol smirked to herself, tilting her head back, placing one last kiss on the wet fabric in front of her. That turned out to be a mistake for Carol's self control, because Zosia's musky, slightly tangy scent was there when she breathed in, and she couldn’t help herself, her moaning audible even muffled as it was by Zosia's skin.
She pulled her underwear down, tossing it to the side, somewhere, she'd find it in the morning, and for a moment just stared, caught by the sight before her. Zosia's pussy was neatly trimmed, with dark hair in a deliberate triangle between her legs, and goddamn pretty, darkening from pink and visibly soaked, wetness dripping down to her thighs. Carol blew on her gently, watching as her entrance clenched around nothing.
"Please Carol." Zosia finally asked, sounding overwhelmed, like she's about to cry. "Please touch us." Carol shuddered, clenching her thighs together to relieve her renewed arousal at the sound of Zosia begging. She leaned forwards, her nose nudging against Zosia's clit, which was poking out of its hood just the slightest bit. Zosia's thighs tightened around her head, pulling her closer, and for a moment, the only thing Carol could feel, or hear, or taste, was Zosia, only Zosia, and she finally felt close enough, nuzzling up against Zosia's center, and then the legs around her head let go, and Zosia looked down at her, concerned. Carol belayed anything she was going to to say-no doubt something that will completely piss her off-and gently lapped at the wetness that gushed from her, letting her nose nudge her clit every few seconds. Zosia moaned loudly above her once, and more arousal gushed onto Carol’s tongue. Zosia’s hands moved to Carol's hair as her arousal builds, not pulling, but holding her gently in place.
Carol continued licking into her, bringing a hand from the other woman's thigh to press into her, as she moves up to focus her mouth on Zosia's clit, using just one finger at first and then, when that gets the lightest tug at her hair and a hushed, "More." gasped out above her, the first thing Zosia had ever demanded of her, a second finger, and Carol could feel how she clenched around it, the silent way her body begged. When Carol sucked her clit into her mouth, rapidly flicking it with her tongue, Zosia shattered into her mouth with a final gasp.
Carol licked gently at Zosia to bring her back down, not to arouse, but to give Zosia a moment as she got her breathing under control, and then sunk back on her heels, looking up at Zosia's face. Her eyes were half lidded, her breathing still rapid, but when she noticed Carol watching her she smiled slightly. "Thank you Carol." Her fingers, as if just noticing where they were, let go of their grip in her hair, gently smoothing the strands out to her satisfaction. Carol let it happen. A thumb smoothed over her cheek, wiping away some of the wetness that still clings to her. Zosia licked her own arousal off of her fingers, gently helping Carol up into her lap once again, keeping contact. Even with that, now that Carol was no longer inside of Zosia, pressed against her as tightly as she could be, that shivery, off balance feeling comes back, and Carol was blurting it out before she could think.
"I want you inside of me." She ducked her head, hiding from the gaze of the world before peeking up, blushing as Zosia's pupil widened, her hand dipping once again towards Carol's still oversensitive center. She caught Zosia's wrist before she could reach her. "Not…not to fuck, not exactly, just…I want you to be inside of me."
She's aware what she'd asked Zosia for makes no sense, considering what they'd just done. Were currently doing. Is aware that if she hadn't just spent weeks completely alone she never would have asked in the first place. But the sheer relief she'd felt when Zosia had hugged her in the driveway, the sheer relief she feels now, now with the memory and lingering presence of Zosia's hands on her, in her, the heat of someone else's skin against hers, cannot be argued with.
"There's a strap on in your night stand, the one in your master bedroom." Zosia suggested with a tilt of her head. They probably intend for her to look as devastating as she does right now, the smug bastards, but even knowing that, Carol couldn't help but catch her breath. She carefully avoided thinking about how, exactly, they know where she kept the toys her and Helen shared, just like she didn't think about how, exactly, they'd known about Carol's knees earlier. "We can put it on?"
Carol nodded once. “Yes. But the green strap. Not the blue one. That was…"
She trailed off, and Zosia, thankfully, doesn't finish her sentence. That was Helen's.
Zosia watched her for several moments, with the same fondness she always has. She squeezed Carol’s sides lightly, never enough to hurt, catching her attention. “We will have to get up if you wish us to fill you, Carol."
Carol stuttered, instinctively tightening her grip on the other woman, ducking her head to hide her embarrassment against Zosia’s shoulder. "Oh, right, yeah. I'll just-"
Zosia was kind enough not to point out that it took several minutes for Carol to convince herself to get out of her lap, the other woman soothing a thumb over the back of her neck the whole time.
"We suggest you go to bathroom beforehand, in order to prevent UTI's." Zosia added as she walked to her bedroom. For a moment Carol wondered if she should follow after her. She hesitated, then realized Zosia already knew about everything in her and Helen's bedroom, and that would be a rather pointless exercise.
Instead, Carol did what Zosia had suggested, quickly going to the bathroom, not lingering, not wanting to face whatever regret she'd find if she thought about what she was doing for too long. This was what she needed, she told herself firmly as she closed the door behind her, carefully avoiding looking at the spot on the counter where Helen’s face wash sat, the second toothbrush in the cup beside it.
She sat herself on the bed, pulling back the top sheet from her side, and tried not to think about the fact that she couldn't hear Zosia's movements. What if she's already left? Carol's mind raced, feeling all too raw after what they'd just done. Helen had teased her once in the early days of their relationship about being too needy after sex, too clingy. It had taken a week, two bouquets, and three apologies before Carol had forgiven her, and Helen had always made time to cuddle for at least a half hour afterwards from then on, but the fact remained. Carol didn't like it when she was left alone after sex.
But then there was a sound from the hallway, the soft scruff of a foot against the hallway runner, and Zosia peeked through the doorway. The green strap, slightly wider and a bit shorter than the blue one that she and Helen usually used, bobbed in the air, attached to Zosia's hips. Carol couldn't help her sudden laugh at the way the strap makes Zosia look, entirely unconscious of the bright green toy attached to her, or the way her shoulders relaxed at the sight of her. She'd come back. Zosia joined in as she turns off the main light, leaving only the fading daylight to light the room. Her laugh was slightly behind, more confused than anything else, but she perched on the bed beside her all the same, her smile spreading wider as soon as her hands were settled on Carol once again.
Carol's eyes were drawn back to the strap-on between Zosia's thighs, her laugh dying as she remembered that it was going inside of her. She shivered, cold even in the heat of summer. She hadn't redressed herself in the time that Zosia had been putting on the strap, and so she was left almost bare, with only her bra on in front of the whole world. Not that the whole world hadn't already seen her naked, but like this, in this context, she felt much more exposed than she had expected to.
It was oddly easy to forget, when Zosia was holding her, when she was fucking her, that the other woman wasn't just Zosia, not anymore, she was everyone. And then Zosia pulled the cover up against her back, holding it there to provide her some warmth, watching her with loving, careful eyes, something that would have grated against Carol's nerves before they’d left but now was more welcome then she wanted to admit, and Carol found herself steadying.
"We don't have to do this if you've changed your mind, Carol. We can just rest. Or Zosia could leave if you wish her too, though we recommend that she stays with you for at least a few minutes." Zosia checked in, stroking a thumb over her side and repeating the gesture as she made the offer.
"I don't want her to leave." Carol said, a little too fast to mask her desperation at the thought of being left alone. It was strange, has been strange, to hear Zosia speak of herself in third person, but it was slowly becoming more familiar. She wondered if she should fight it, this acceptance, but she didn't know what would be the point. "I don't want you to leave." She added after a beat. "And I still want you inside of me. It feels…less like I'm alone, with you here."
Zosia kissed her again, nipping lightly at her bottom lip, and then drew back. "We would like that too. Being inside of you. Connected. We do not like you far from us."
Zosia sounded so genuinely earnest that, coupled with the fact that she can't lie, that they can't lie, Carol believed her.
Carol nodded once. "Okay. I'm ready for you." Zosia's hand at her go-ahead moved between her legs, her fingers quickly becoming slick with Carol’s arousal. When she deemed her fingers wet enough, she slipped one finger inside of her, and then, when Carol squirmed, two, then three. Stretching her, getting her ready for the girth of the toy. They would never want to hurt her, Carol knows, and so they might intend to take their time with this, but right now she craved the stretch, the body deep proof that this has happened.
With that in mind, as soon as Zosia takes her fingers back, slicking up the green length, Carol turned, straddling her and sinking down. It’s faster then Zosia or the millions of experts in her head, both the medical and sexual kind, might have wanted, but the stretch is immediate and exactly what she wanted, pleasure almost becoming pain and settling on fullness.
Carol breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling, sinking into the awareness of something inside of herself, not moving, not pulling away, just there, a steady pressure inside of her. She melted against Zosia, pressing her face into the other's shoulder once again, her inner walls twitching, still oversensitive from the multiple orgasms she'd had only a few minutes before. Zosia held her close, running a hand up and down her spine to sooth her, muttering comforting words into the side of her head.
Carol clenched once around the strap, rocking her hips forwards a few times just to feel the slight ache in her thighs, and then settled into the embrace. "Can you-I want to stay like this." She asked, almost without thinking. "Just like this. Not moving, just here. Until I fall asleep. No, until I wake up. Unless you need to leave for something urgent or to take care of yourself." Carol quickly added, not wanting to take the risk that they would take that entirely literally.
”We can do that." Zosia agreed easily, easing them down and to their sides, Carol taken once more into her arms, her nose tucked against the hollow of Zosia's throat. "We love you. I love you." She sounded a little breathless, but she paused, said it loud enough-and that must be deliberate-that Carol knew she hadn’t misheard.
Carol took a moment. Pressed her eyes closed hard enough to hurt, to leave black spots when she opened them again. One of her hands sneaked up, squeezed at Zosia's forearm as she felt the woman leave kisses against her hair.
She’d known. They'd told her before. Said like this, though, the words are a lot harder to brush off. So she didn’t, let them sink in instead. Zosia loves her. The world loves her. She let out a shaky breath, squeezing Zosia's arm again, matching her breathing to the steady in and out of Zosia’s until all of the tension in her body melted away, just the steady weight of Zosia around her, the fullness inside of her left. Connecting her to the woman around her. Connecting her to the world.
Zosia pressed a kiss to the top of her head, her hips jolting, just the once, pressing the strap impossibly further inside her. Zosia stilled them after that, draping an arm over her waist and settling in, the steady puff of her breathing against her hair slowly luring Carol to sleep, her head distant and far away. Just before she actually falls asleep though, Carol, struck by some insanity-because she could never just be happy, this couldn't be allowed, there has to be some catch even if she hadn't found it yet, and these people take everything she tells them seriously-and by the way she knew Zosia was watching her, all the love in the world overfilling in her eyes, asked for one last thing before she fell asleep. "Don't leave me again." Carol whispered into the skin beneath her lips, keeping her eyes shut tight. "Even if I ask you too."
Zosia's face twisted, Carol could feel it against the top of her head as she moved. "We won't. We are sorry, Carol, for leaving you at all. We needed space, and we could not force the other immune to speak with you, but we see now that we hurt you terribly. We can and will correct our error now as we move forwards, and we can promise that we will not leave you alone without us again. For better or for worse."
It sounds almost like a threat.
It sounds almost like a marriage vow.
Held securely in Zosia's embrace, Carol decides not to ask which they had meant it as.
She's not alone. She clings to that fact, clings to Zosia. She's not alone. The whole world is here with her, the whole world loves her. Zosia loves her. Carol might hate herself for it when she wakes up in the morning, but at least she won't ever be alone again.