She's changed outfits about two dozen times that afternoon, which is already unusual, but then, after finally settling on an outfit sexy enough to send Bebe a clear signal, so goddamn sexy in fact that Louis's wanted to push El against a door and kiss her breathless for hours now - as soon as the intercom rings, Eleanor goes white as a sheet, disappears upstairs and comes back down five minutes later wearing leggings and a loose sweater which, while hanging low enough on her shoulder to make it clear she's not wearing anything else underneath, screams more of crosswords by the fireplace than sexy times on the bear rug.
She's blushing more than Louis has ever seen her blush, and that includes meeting Louis's family for the first time. Bebe acts as if she doesn't notice how awkward they both are, kissing Eleanor on the cheek and asking her where she bought her sweater. She's also dressed simply, black skinny jeans and a white top, but somehow she looks indecent as all hell, like she should walk around with a big “Explicit” sign hanging round her neck.
Bebe catches on quick. She can feel Louis's eyes boring into her like laser beams, and even when she's looking straight at him he still openly stares at her boobs, like he can't help himself, and he's usually very good at not doing that. And El keeps on blushing every single time Bebe talks to her or touches her (in passing as she walks past her in the kitchen; lingering as they both reach for the same glass; fully intentional as she gently grabs a hold of Eleanor's hand to look at the little L proudly tattooed on her ring finger).
That at least explains Louis's questions the other night in Vegas, when he kept trying to make Bebe talk about her sex life and bringing up El a propos of nothing. Bebe had assumed he'd just had too much to drink, but now it makes a lot more sense. She's even relieved, because back then she'd wondered if he might not be trying to make a pass at her, and she doesn't do people in a relationship, unless both halves of the couple are into it.
Now, with Louis serving them drink after drink and putting on some proper music to grind up to, while Eleanor nervously fidgets with her hair and steals longing looks at Bebe's body, it's becoming quite clear that they're both into it.
With El barefeet and Bebe on heels they're about the same size, except Bebe takes up so much more space than El ever could, with the way she moves and the sheer blinding confidence she exhudes. Eleanor's confidence is a sham; most of the time she feels like an ugly duckling and wonders if anyone else can tell. But Bebe shines with the strength of a thousand suns, unapologetically owning her curves and her flaws and every single inch of her body. It makes El's head spin, or maybe that's the drinks, or the way Bebe's perfume is getting stronger as her body heats up, sickly sweet all around the two of them.
Eleanor's paralyzed with nerves, like her body is little more than a bunch of broomsticks crudely tied together, but Bebe's moving for the two of them, slipping one leg in between Eleanor's to guide her hips through the rhythm, gently taking hold of Eleanor's hand to place it on her own waist before sliding it down and back to her arse.
"Oh god..." Eleanor breathes out, but when Bebe lets go, El keeps her hand where it is, taking an experimental squeeze that makes Bebe bite back a chuckle.
Soon enough there's no space left between their bodies, Bebe undulating against her, her firm breasts pressed against El's chest, and Eleanor can't breathe anymore.
Relief washes over her like a wave when Louis suddenly materializes behind her, his stubble scraping her neck as he kisses her shoulder, his erection firm and familiar against her arse. She feels more grounded with him there, bolder too, and it takes barely any encouragement from Bebe, her fingers stroking El's wrist and sliding up her own body to her breasts, as if showing her the way, before Eleanor reaches up and cups one round tit in her palm, body breaking into goosebumps.
"That's it, babe," Bebe whispers with a smile, gently brushing her parted lips against El's mouth, face tilted up a fraction.
El feels her lips tingling as she kisses Bebe back with a sigh, thumb boldly teasing at Bebe's nipple through her sheer top, her other hand grabbing Bebe's arse more firmly. Bebe all but purrs, and El knows she’s deliberately overreacting, but she's grateful for it.
Louis's lips and teeth are still at work on her shoulder; she wants to turn her head and ask him for a kiss, but she also doesn't want to stop kissing Bebe now, possibly ever. Bebe's tongue teases at her lips, and she tastes like the strawberry vodka she's been having all night, like a grown-up candy.
"Lewis," Bebe sweetly says a little while later, when the flush of Eleanor's cheeks has spread down to her half uncovered chest, "Why don't we get your girl to bed?"
She can see Louis's arm under El's sweater, the fabric shifting in time with his wrist as he moves his hand between her legs - she pinches the fabric between thumb and forefinger and lifts it to see Louis's hand slipped inside El's leggings, the shape of his curved fingers stretching the fabric in an unequivocal way. She fights the urge to drag Louis's hand out and bring it to her own mouth to taste Eleanor on his fingers. She doesn't yet know how far he wants to go, suspects he might not intend to touch her at all, even though it's clear he wants her. They're good friends, and business partners, and she's not about to push anything on him, especially not when his girlfriend is trembling and shaking between them, pink lips half parted, hand kneading Bebe's breast like she can't get enough of her.
"Louis?" Bebe says again, switching her pronunciation in case it breaks through to him more efficiently. "Where's your bedroom?"
Louis finally seems to register her words, straightening up and sliding his hand away from Eleanor's crotch. His fingers are glistening; Bebe feels her mouth water.
"Right, bedroom," Louis says, a little dazzedly. "It's upstairs."
"Let's head up, then," Bebe says, ignoring El's whimper as she steps away from them.
She peels off her top on her way up the stairs, smiling to herself at the soft "Fuck," Louis and Eleanor let out in perfect unison.
--
The early morning finds Louis sitting on the floor of his balcony, back against the full-length window, letting the cool morning air sweep away the smoke from his cigarette. The balcony railing ruins the view a little, but standing up is too much of an effort after the three hours of sleep he's just gotten.
Eleanor's still sleeping soundly, exhausted from the pleasure Louis and Bebe relentlessly coaxed out of her (Louis counted 5 orgasms, but it might have been more. He thinks Bebe would know with better certainty).
He hears the glass door slide open a second before Bebe's soft "Mind if I join you?"
It feels too early for talking, but Louis nods, scooting to the side so Bebe doesn't have to sit right in front of the door.
She settles next to him, stretching Eleanor's sweater over her naked legs. For a second Louis wonders if she's wearing panties, feels the thrill of arousal, but he dismisses the thought. He's glad they didn't do anything. It makes it easier if this thing, whatever it is, is all about Eleanor's pleasure.
"We're good, right?" Bebe asks, as if she's been thinking the same thing. Her eyes look even bigger than usual, her makeup smudged, and Louis's unbearably fond of her.
"F'course we're good," he says, bumping her shoulder with his. "If anything, I should thank you."
Bebe laughs. "Yes, this was very unpleasant. Don't know how the fuck I'm gonna get over that trauma."
Louis grins, stabbing his cigarette out on the ground. He considers lighting another one, but refrains. He doesn't feel like smoking that much today. Maybe he should try those e-cigarettes, even though he's told anyone who would listen that he wouldn't be caught dead smoking one.
"I wouldn't have minded if you'd touched me, by the way," Bebe says, as casually as if she was telling him it's okay to borrow her sunglasses.
"Good to know," Louis says, his voice coming out a little strangled. He really needs to stop smoking.
He feels Bebe shaking with contained laughter against him.
"Shut up," he says, knocking his knee against her leg.
"You shut up."
"Can't shut up if you go and say shit like that," he counters, finally daring to look at her.
She grins at him, face glowing with the rising sun, and he can't decide whether he wants to kiss her or tackle her to the ground. Maybe both.
"Just laying it out there," she says, before turning her eyes back to the sky, her voice getting softer when she adds, "Just in case it comes up again."
She doesn't say anything more for a while, just cuddles against him, resting her head on his shoulder, soft and solid and wonderful. He's ever so glad she came into his life.
"Your girl's lovely," Bebe finally says, linking her arm with his.
"Yeah, she is."
They watch the sunrise together in companionable silence. Louis feels at peace.
