#cm*

now, it was down to routine.

a few drinks in, you’d make your way to the bathroom, emily tagging along. she’d push you into the small bathroom, using her strength to pin you against the counter. tongue deep in your mouth, she’d make quick work of unbuttoning your jeans while your own hands found their way under her shirt.

time was always of the essence, so your pants never came down past your needs. her hand would slide your underwear to the side, and thanks to the effect she has on you when inebriated, you were always dripping for her. your hand finds her nipple as hers finds your clit, your moans perfectly time. one, two, three fingers dive into your cunt as you pull your head back.

as she fucks you, emily often takes a moment to look in the mirror. without fail, she feels herself get more turned on as she looks at you in the mirror, eyes closed and mouth agape with pleasure. she smiles to herself, grateful for that little unspoken rule you two share.

like clockwork, however, she’s pulled away from her reflection as she feels your pussy clenching around her, your orgasm imminent. she tangles her free hand into your hair, pulling you upright and resting your head in the crook of her neck. nothing but praise is whispered in your ear, only pushing you further to the edge. you all but leave a bite mark on her shoulder, muffled moans making their way into her skin as you finish around her.

she pulls out moments later, erotically sucking your juices from her fingers before she fixes your appearance. still coming down from your high, you bring emily in for another kiss. it’s brief, a promise that it’ll happen later, sooner than you think.

you two make your way back out, stopping at the bar for a final drink. you dance with jj, watch garcia lose to reid in pool, and bid your farewells to the others at the table. emily does the same. after all, it’s so convenient to share a cab when you live on the way to her place.

except, she never goes back to her place. you always invite her up for a nightcap, which turns into a night spent entangled in the sheets and each other. a night of slow, proper fucking, something that just can’t be done in a bar bathroom. a night of falling asleep in her arms, only to wake up with her gone.

it’s never for long, though. she comes back bearing an iced coffee and the best bagel in washington, curing your hangover before your drink can start to melt. there’s a shower, a quick goodbye, and a soft kiss.

and then you have to wait for the next time. after all, even if there’s feelings on both sides, it’s probably better to leave them unspoken.