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“Uh… well.” Paige barely hesitated in her reply. “Game Night certainly demands a night of um.. heavy drinking.”

Azzi, was half way to the next sip of whatever drink Paige had ‘created’ for them whilst they got ready aside each other in Paige’s ensuite. “Wait, like more than what we had last night at that team dinner, or wherever you called it?” Azzi asks with a bewildered stare, and she seems so surprised by what Paige just said that it makes Paige chuckle as she nods her head.

“Oh, yeah.. for sure. I mean, I don’t really think anyone was really even drunk last night? A few of the girls were tipsy, sure…” and she braves a glance at Azz as she says as much, because she’s thinking about how last night she saw one of her favourite versions of Azzi; the one who giggled over her every joke, flushed over a compliment and didn’t flinch when their pinkies brushed against each others’. “…But like, Game Night is different, Az. For one, we’re already home… so like, less logistics, no fucking chance of us being ‘followed by the paps’, or whatever”, Paige made sure to make air quotations on the words ‘followed by the paps’ and Azzi huffed out a little laugh, because she really wasn’t exaggerating; Azzi knew Paige had been photographed without her consent in all states for all of her adult life, figuratively and literally, and knew that whilst it came with the territory of fame, she didn’t love that it was her best friend’s reality. “Andddd two, we play dirty, like for real. This team for sure knows how to ask a question you don’t wanna answer.”

Sensing a slight hesitation from Azzi, Paige is quick to reassure her. “You don’t have to drink tonight Az, some of the girls just have like water or soda or something, for real. I’m just really enjoying having you here for all of the stuff I’m usually telling you about on the phone.” She trails off, but her eyes are bright and open and staring into Azzi, attempting to will her into having fun with her teammates tonight.

“I mean no, it’s not that really” Azzi starts, and Paige’s face softens, because she thinks she might know where this is going. “I just don’t think I’ve been more than tipsy in at least five years… What if I can’t, like, drink like that anymore.” Paige has to cover her mouth and “cough” so she’s not outwardly laughing in Azzi’s face. Azzi knows her better than that. “Paige, I’m serious! You have athlete friends, that means that you’re all like super strong… and I know you can handle your alcohol”, the last part is said in a sing-song manner whilst Azzi points her finger accusatory-like towards the middle of Paige’s chest. Paige is about to chastise her, when Azzi’s face grows anxious and she knows there’s more to come. “Seriously P, like you know I want to, but what if I’m just not fun anymore, I don’t wanna ruin the vibe. I don’t think I’ve done something like this since college… before Lex.”

Paige has to physically hold her reaction back, she knows that now is not the time for an ‘I told you so’ rant but she flinches because even hearing the name of Azzi’s ex-girlfriend is enough to piss her off. And she’s about to both make that known whilst she also assures Azzi again that she shouldn’t feel pressured to make tonight her first ‘big night’ since the breakup. And she even thinks about going as far as to offer up not really drinking anything herself, in solidarity, until Azzi starts again, with a little furrow between her eyebrows that shows all of her curiosity and an honest little twinkle in her eyes confirming her growing excitement. “Although, I guess tonight would be the perfect night to change that.” A small smile settles on her lips as she nods and Paige is halfway to falling off her chair in celebration. “As long as you’ll be here to make sure I’m okay… I’m assuming Game Night has the potential for a lot of… mischief.” There’s a teasing tone in her voice, which Paige doesn’t speak on but definitely doesn’t miss.

Paige is serious as she nods, incredibly careful not to burst her bubble. “Nothing will happen on my watch.”

Azzi’s complete demeanour morphs into one of excitement and she raises her glass to toast her best friend; “Fine. To being back in the same city,” Azzi leads.

“To getting my girl back”, Paige follows.

She grins and Azzi blushes; Paige has always called her that. They cheers the air in front of the mirror, their bodies aligning side by side at the dual sink, before lifting their glasses to drink. Paige keeps drinking, and Azzi stops to splatter a cough and knocks against her chest a few times. “Fucking hell P, what is in this?” Paige just shrugs, as smug as she’s ever been.

“I told you Az, Game Night is legit. I’m just making sure you’re all warmed up before you take the court.” Paige is wiggling her eyebrows and she goes to sip again; Azzi is not impressed at all with the basketball innuendo.

“No. Absolutely not. No basketball analogy’s tonight. I’m already going to be in a room full of professional athletes, I can’t take the ‘jokes’ too.” Azzi puts down her glass and this time it’s her turn to make air quotation signs. And that’s all it takes to burst the bubble; both girls fall into a puddle of laughter and continue sipping down their glasses.

And Azzi does indulge that night. As does Paige. And so does the rest of the Wings’ squad, as expected, but Paige’s eyes stay mostly on Azzi; just in case, per her promise and also because she can’t help but to keep her eyes on Azzi. They spent the night drinking poorly mixed cocktails, because someone had claimed that if they weren’t playing basketball, they’d be a bartender in Manhattan… Azzi made a mental note that she was glad that they were all still playing basketball. Watching Azzi have fun like this puts her right back in their UConn years, when Paige would often sneak Azzi into their allusive all-athlete dorm parties, despite her NARP status. And as Paige keeps her eye on Azzi, she notes that while Azzi definitely is flushed and giggly, she isn’t on the verge of anything dangerous. So she eventually sits back and lets herself relax with her teammates.

They’d played a few hands of poker, tried their luck at twister, dabbled in a dirty game of would you rather, and had all fallen into a drunken haze in the living room by midnight. Paige is drunk for sure, she usually is about 30 minutes into Game Night, albeit tonight it had taken a little longer. But Game Night is the best kind of drunk; everything is light and fun and she’s giggling and flirty - without actively trying to sleep with a teammate - yet, amidst her daze she marvels at her ability to still possess enough self control to do the one thing that could ruin her life; so she does not sink into the couch next to Azzi, even though it’s all she wants to do. Instead, Maddy is sitting next to Azzi, and Paige is sprawled on a blanket nest on the ground with Jess and Zaza.

Paige can feel the world buzzing around her, and for all of the self-control she praised herself for maintaining merely five minutes ago, she can’t stop herself from just looking at Azzi. She’s fast asleep and looks so comfortable; Paige wishes it was her shoulder instead of Maddy’s that she was leaning on. And Paige feels she can’t do anything but admire her, really, as she always tries not to do but always fails miserably and does so after even a sniff of alcohol. Azzi’s hair is out and falling in tight curls over her shoulders, yet there are a few pieces which otherwise would frame her face if she was upright but are now sweeping across her face - Paige wonders what it would be like to actually sweep that curl behind her ear herself. She also focuses on the way in which Azzi is wearing her supposed ‘comfortable’ Game Night attire; a tight tank top which is the exact shade of pink that makes her skin glow and allows her collarbone to be the statement piece. She thinks, too, that she’d be a fool not to notice her perfect cleavage pushed up and perfectly in place; Paige thinks if she listened really hard Azzi’s tits might be whispering her name. Azzi’s sweatpants sit low on her hips; the way she’s twisted into Maddy’s side has both her abdominals and obliques on display and it takes everything in Paige not to drop to her knees and crawl over to where Azzi lies and lick along the lines of muscle, watching them contract and hearing Azzi’s breath hitch.

Probably not appropriate, Paige reminds herself.

Amidst her almost predatory attraction, Paige realizes that Azzi is beyond tipsy; a fact she knows to be true because Azzi cares about her sleep more than she does about being awake. She knows she would never choose to sleep on a couch; half-sitting up, leaning on someone in a way that has her body twisting over itself. Paige has half the mind to think she should move her to her bedroom; get her a big glass of water and settle her in under the covers before whispering a little bedtime story, maybe even manifest a future where their relationship travels further than friendship. She’s so in her own head that she doesn’t even realize she’s been addressed until she feels the full force of a pillow thrown at her head; slowly dragging her eyes away from a sleeping Azzi, Paige realizes that the room is loud with laughter and every single set eyes are on her; thankfully, though, she’s also quick to note that Azzi remains fast asleep.

Paige forces her best attempt at remaining nonchalant, looking around the faces in her lounge room as she shrugs her shoulders. Jess only laughs harder beside her, but Zaza leans across their shared blankets to flick her forehead as she says, “We asked if you have any new stories for us?” In response to Paige’s blank stare, the girls continue to push to her for an answer.

Alanna goes first; “Come on P… no one has crazier sex stories than you”. Paige glares at her, even though deep down she’s a little proud to hold that crown. She doesn’t necessarily need Azzi to know that fact as true, however.

Jess chimes in immediately, already trying and failing to hide her laughter; “Or has had sex with crazier girls than you”. Paige whips her head over to Jess immediately, thinking about how they were all making a solid case for being traded in the very near future.

In a disbelieving, and somewhat self-preservatory, huff of a laugh Paige throws both her hands into the air as she addresses the group, “Why the fuck am I catching strays here?” A drunken laughter ripples through the room, and it’s enough to shake Azzi awake, though none of the girls notice except for Maddy, who helps her sit back up and Paige, of course, who had been otherwise staring at the girl again since her teammates decided to out her apparent ‘whore’ status and hoping this exact situation would not manifest. Nonetheless, she’s laughing while attempting to pout her lips and she’s drawing her eyes away from Azzi, as she addresses the group once more, hand over heart and tone wounded. “I see how it is… and during Pride Month? Ya’ll are some friends…”

“Yo be for real”, Arike chimes back in. “Look around the room. Most of us are gay bro… you can’t be using that bullshit excuse.”

Jess nudges her side, wiggling her eyebrows before breaking into her own set of drunken giggles as she adds, “Come on, Miss ‘I just really love sex and beautiful women’, hit us with the details. You usually always have a story… or five, for us.”

And Azzi is clearly awake now, because Paige watches as her eyes go wide at this remark. Whilst the best friends tell each other most things, some things they’ve decided to keep private over the years. For the sake of their best-friend-ship, Paige thinks. Out of fear of judgement and disappointment, Paige deliberately rips her gaze off of Azzi as she groans and falls back into Jess, who probably hasn’t stopped smiling this entire interaction and is clearly having far too much fun l. “I haven’t had sex like, all year. You guys know that.”

“Boring,” Maddy declares, sticking out her tongue. “You know I like to live through you guys, especially you, Paige. Stephen is so….” She wrinkles her nose at the reference to her husband, before she chuckles again. “I mean, I love him and he gets the job done… I guess.” The room erupts in laughter, it doesn’t take much for a room full of lesbians to laugh over the notion of a man not being able to fuck his wife correctly. Maddy continues, used to their antics. “But it’s just not exciting. Not like this. Please give me something.”

“Oh!” Alanna perks up at this. “You know who was amazing in bed? Patrick, that guy working the bar at dinner last night? My god, he knew exactly how to use his tongue” That granted her a few suspicious looks - and some disgusted ones, men can’t even use their hands for good use, how could they use their tongues like that - around the room; most of the girls hadn’t even known she’d left with their bartender last night. Alanna’s comment fails to draw much need or want for further questions and excitement; all Paige can think about is how she wouldn’t have taken an Australian to be one to perform an Irish goodbye.

Directing her next words to the rest of the room, whilst still only looking at Paige, Jess speaks again. “You know who I heard is amazing in bed…” She’s clearly far too excited, nudging her elbow straight into Paige’s side. It’s obvious who she’s talking about, she doesn’t need to say Paige’s name out loud for the whole room to turn straight to look at Paige, a collective of dropped jaws and shocked gasps. Paige is confused. She’s not had sex with Jess - would never sleep with a teammate, and even if she would, Jess wouldn’t be her first choice - and they don’t really talk about their lives like that. “P, you really think I wouldn’t have found out?” Jess turns back to face and address the group once more. “You know how I’ve become, like, really good friends with the girl that owns the little cocktail bar downtown we went to a few weeks back?” Some of the girls nod, some of the girls scoff and whisper about what the definition of ‘really good friends’ means. Azzi just stares, seemingly paralysed whilst clearly trying not to look affected. “Well… she told me allll about how well of a tipper Paige was when she first came to Dallas.”

And Paige is pretty sure Jess keeps talking, pretty sure she’s going into some kind of detail that should never really be discussed in a room full of so many people. And she’s pretty sure the room is erupting in excitement; mostly excitement, and maybe only minor horror. But the only thing Paige hears over the wolf whistling and the howling laughter of her teammates is Azzi choking on a sip of water. She can feel the blush work up her neck and into her cheeks, hot and fast, even as she shoves Jess out of her space. Captive to the situation, and victim to the consequences of her own actions, Paige feels incredibly trapped in a situation she would give anything to get out of. Whilst she knows her embarrassment is incredibly obvious to the entire room, she knows her teammates will not take well to her shutting down the conversation. Out of desperation, she chances a look towards Azzi. Except Azzi is already staring back at her, watching as she nervously tucks a loose curl behind her ear. And that does it; Paige will not force her to listen to this anymore. “Okay. Chill… Please….” And Paige can’t help that feeling that settles in her stomach at the way Azzi continues to stare at her, she’s honestly hoping that she’s imagining the way Azzi’s eyes almost look like they’re pleading at her to continue talking. Paige isn’t sure what it means if she’s right.

“Why so shy tonight, you freak? We know you love this shit.” Paige has no idea who says that.

“You’re usually the last one to shy away from the sex talk,” Maddy adds. “Like. Never.” Her friends weren’t wrong. Paige is typically always down for sex talk with little to no embarrassment, especially if she’s being presented with some incredible tried and tested reviews to kickstart her indulgence.

But Paige is shy tonight because these kinds of conversations have never really been something that she and Azzi had ever delved into, in spite of the years they’ve shared together as best friends. There’s no reason - realistically - that she should feel nervous or ashamed of the single night she shared with the girl from the bar that Jess had come to know; a bar Paige is pretty sure she couldn’t even remember how to get to again even if she was sober, let alone what it looked like. But honestly, Paige is shy tonight because she’s being forced to have these kinds of conversations about women she can’t remember in front of the only person she wishes she could physically (and dirtily, passionately, roughly) converse with in that kind of way.

Incredibly overwhelmed by the severity of the moment, Paige lays down with a groan. She’s so incredibly glad that she doesn’t have to try to come up with anything more to say about her ‘night with the bartender’, because the room has collectively decided that if they can’t make Paige gloat, they’ll make Azzi confess. Leaning over Paige, clearly drunk and very uncoordinated, Jess focuses her attention on Paige’s best friend. “What about you, Azzi? You’re single, right?”

Azzi nods.

And if Paige wasn’t so completely humiliated by her incredibly intrusive teammates, and so offended on Azzi’s behalf that the team felt comfortable enough - drunk or not - to invade her private life in this way, she’d slap Jess silly and end the night here. But Paige is also just a girl. A girl in love with her best friend, and although it might kill her, is just a girl who wants her best friend to also be having great sex. Paige thinks - knows - that whatever story Azzi shares can’t be ‘the best sex of her life’ because Paige thinks that story is still yet to be written.

Paige really should consider switching to just drinking Shirley Temples on Game Night. Or, rather, she has to separate house and home; Game Night is not a safe place for Azzi ever again.

Paige’s thoughts are dutifully interrupted by Jess once more. “You have any wild sex stories then, Azzi?” And even though she knows Azzi’s sex life is essentially the same as hers, knows deep down that if Azzi started seeing someone after Lex that she would tell Paige, she’s still waiting on bated breath for the answer.

“Um, no. Not much to tell... I’m not exactly fun like Paige is and I’m… not exactly having sex right now either.” Azzi’s response is as direct and clipped as it can be right now, before she reaches for her drink on the side table that Paige had otherwise assumed had been neglected for tonight. As Azzi’s rushing to finish someone’s poor attempt at a Tequila Sunrise, Paige thinks that whilst she probably has half a case against Azzi to be offended over what she’d just said, she’s actually just rather glad. Fuck it, actually, she’s really glad. She forces her best attempt at remaining unaffected; not entirely sure she has enough self control right now to not show any reaction to Azzi choosing to not talk about her sex life. Mostly, she’s even more glad when she replays how Azzi had offered up the last part of her truth to the group.

Game Night officially ends somewhere around three in the morning; after the compulsory late night, drunk couch therapy and confession sessions ceased. Paige is entirely too enthusiastic to be able to evict her teammates and she all but prays that Azzi hasn’t suffered too much emotional damage tonight. The best friends retire to Paige’s bedroom, agreeing on the walk down the hallway that they didn’t need a snack before bed, although they did stop for water, Gatorade and Tylenol along the way. They fall into Paige’s bed at the same time and quickly move to get comfortable under the blankets. Paige thinks she ought to remember which member of the Wings said that a ‘comfortable sweatsuit’ was the ‘official and mandatory uniform’ for all Game Nights and make sure to get them multiple wide open shot attempts at their next game, because she couldn’t fathom changing in front of Azzi right now. She’d already been plenty vulnerable for one night.

Lying next to Azzi, Paige knows she’s still tipsy when she has to physically put a hand to her mouth to stop herself from saying Azzi smells like her favorite kind of cupcake and it’s making her really hungry. She realizes she’s just tipsy and not drunk, though, because she also knows she’s not really hungry - for food anyway, and that she doesn’t even really like cupcakes - but loves when Azzi smells like them, and she’s not sure how Azzi would take a comment like that after a night like they’d just had. With Azzi’s back to Paige, she wonders if Azzi will be using sleep as a form of escapism tonight; from her teammates, from Paige, and from ever having to discuss Paige’s sex life again. She wonders if Azzi was disgusted at the way in which her friends handled themselves tonight, or worse, at how Paige had apparently handled women for most of her life.

Pulling the covers closer into her chest, she thinks about how Azzi sat in her living room just hours before and listened to every story her teammates were sharing; logically, she thinks Azzi would have had to have been sitting there in shock, maybe even slightly disappointed and disgusted in her best friend; however, if she forces her eyes closed and remembers how Azzi mostly kept her gaze trained on her lap and was often fidgeting by way of removing and replacing her rings, Paige thinks that maybe Azzi was uncomfortable for another reason; stupidly hoping that Azzi was nervous because she was jealous and she was fighting not to let that show.

Paige also lets herself wonder if Azzi is going to want to cuddle again as they fall asleep, just like they did last night. She thinks it’s unlikely, given that Azzi’s facing away from her, and so she lets herself indulge once more in her annoyance at the boldness of her teammates and moreso at herself for ever retelling every fucking detail of her personal life… God forbid she needs to let out some sexual frustration when the love of her life is really just her best friend who doesn’t want her back. Self control, she thought, really ought to be one of her new goals - tomorrow, though, because right now she’s turning in the bed so that her chest aligns with Azzi’s back and she wants to reach out and wrap her arm around Azzi’s middle, pulling her flush against her and feeling the way she surrenders into her own curves. She’s itching for that contact in the way that she knows goes beyond their best-friend-ship, but right now, she only cares about what she wants. And what she wants is to cuddle up against Azzi again; to feel her hum in contentment, feel her nuzzle into her pillow and shift her hips further into Paige’s own, and to be surrounded by her cupcake scent, all sweet and -

“Do you miss sex?” The question throws her off entirely. She’s frozen; eyes wide and arm apparently half way out to Azzi.

“What?” She curses herself for how quickly she replies. As if she’d already been halfway to speaking herself before Azzi had even made a sound.

“Sex,” Azzi repeats. Her voice is raspy; it isn’t her tired voice, it’s low and it’s doing insane things to an already on-edge Paige, who had only just been thinking about how Azzi might also taste like the cupcake she smells like. “I gathered from the, um, the conversation on the couch that you don’t typically go for long periods of time without it.” Her voice doesn’t slur or stutter and stays in its low tone, and really, Paige is impressed, she knows Azzi is also drunk - tipsy, at best. She’d have to be, even more so than Paige because Paige had stayed sober half the night, specifically for Azzi’s benefit. Her suspicions are all but confirmed when Azzi continues to speak, clearly a little more unsure of herself than normal because she’s rushing to fill a silence that Paige created. “I mean, we talk about it a lot, sure, but we obviously don’t tell each other everything…” Paige winces at this, but it’s clearly not the time to defend her actions. “So… I guess I want to learn a little more, if you’re um… willing.”

And Paige would be an idiot not to indulge Azzi right now, so it’s really her subconscious that takes over and has her rushing to keep the conversation going.

“I miss… aspects of it.” It’s out before she can think otherwise, and then she does think otherwise and she immediately wants to take it back. Every past and future sober thought she’s ever had and will have, is screaming at her to shut the fuck up, to bite into her pillow if it means she’ll stop now. Yet at present, she is quickly and completely consumed by the drunk thought that yes, biting into her pillow might be appropriate right now but only if it was because of Azzi, and only if she’s biting to keep from screaming. She knows deep down to not go down this road, knows their friendship is too important. But she’s also a fool for her best friend, and she’s laying in bed with said best friend who also happens to be the most beautiful woman she’s ever known, so she’s deciding to throw logic completely out of her apartment.

“What do you miss?” Azzi asks, her voice is raspy but it goes up at the end of her question. She’s inquisitive; Paige would tell her everything if she let her.

“I…” Paige trails off, swallowing hard, trying to rid away the lump riding up her throat; the alcohol that’s threatening to escape her at any second. Her heart feels like it might pump right out of her chest, and her hands are definitely growing a little warm. She can feel the bed move as Azzi turns back around so that she’s facing Paige under the covers, and in the dark she swears she can see her shuffling in even closer. They’re not touching, but they’re close enough that Paige can feel her body warmth. She’s still only wearing her ‘Game Night uniform’; pink tank and sweatpants, but she can feel Azzi’s body heat radiating to her own warmth and she wonders, in her drunken haze, if it’s enough to set the bed alight. Paige is nervous and giddy and confused and so flustered, but she doesn’t want that to show so instead she’s moving her feet around under the covers and rubbing them together. It’s useless, she realizes, because she feels one of Azzi’s feet slide over to meet hers. Paige holds her breath. Azzi lets her foot drop on top of Paige’s and she rests it there. Not exactly the kind of skin-to-skin contact Paige was hoping for but she’s barely keeping herself together as it is so she’s grateful for Azzi’s attempt at grounding her. She lets herself breathe again.

“Your teammates all said you usually love talking about sex and I…” Paige swears that Azzi shifts even closer, again. “I just don’t want you to think that you had to hold back earlier… on my account. Like, I hope you weren’t doing that to protect me…”

“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, Az.”

Azzi shakes her head in the dark, and while Paige can’t exactly see the action, she can hear the rustle of her curls against the pillow. Paige wishes she was shaking her head in overstimulation, instead.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable, P.”

What the fuck is happening right now.

“Oh”

Paige actually thinks she might be sick, or worse, might be about to cross that line with her best friend. She hopes for as much, anyway; hopes that she isn’t reading this wrong, hopes that Azzi wasn’t uncomfortable and really, truly, was jealous earlier tonight.

“It’s just that… I haven’t had sex in a long time.”

“But Lex?”

Paige feels Azzi kick at her feet. Do not talk about sex with ex-girlfriend while talking to best friend about sex in general: noted. Especially when Azzi is close enough now and she can feel her breaths fanning her face is short, sharp waves, and even more so when she can smell the change in her breath. It’s sweet now too, just like the rest of her.

“I haven’t had good sex… in a long time…”

Paige can feel her heartbeat fall to her fucking ass. She isn’t exactly sure how to reply; isn’t actually sure how Azzi wants her to reply either. She doesn’t need to wait long; however, because Azzi isn’t finished.

“Except for… with myself,” and her voice is so quiet as she says this that Paige isn’t sure if Azzi was just saying that to an otherwise empty room - a safe person in a safe space - or if Azzi even intended for Paige to have heard it. But she did. And it’s creating such a mental image that Paige can’t even focus on the conversation they’re having anymore; thinking about Azzi’s own hand between her legs has her own thighs squeezing together as subtly as she can manage; envisioning Azzi’s arch and the rise and fall of her chest as she builds herself up has her her own heart racing faster and she doesn’t think she even wants to imagine what Azzi’s face looks like as she comes, and the sounds she makes as she’s overstimulating her clit to push herself towards a second, more intense, orgasm.

“You know I don’t really have many gay friends back in New York, P… I’ve never really felt comfortable going into those details with the girls at home because I just don’t think they’d really understand, you know?” She pauses for a bit, and Paige thinks that if Azzi is feeling even an inch of what Paige is, then she must be taking a moment to compose herself before she continues. “It would be really nice to have… that. You’re really lucky, P.” And Paige doesn’t even have time to curse herself before she’s giving into Azzi, and giving her the answers she knows she’s searching for right now. Right now she doesn’t care that she’s willing to fold for just about anything Azzi wants, she’s more than ready to oblige. She can’t help herself. Especially with Azzi. Especially when she’s discussing lesbian sex, with Azzi.

“Um…” And it feels hard to punch out the thought alone through her desire, but she continues, her words growing husky as her fingers start to tingle with anticipation. She grabs at the shared sheets under them to steady herself, forgetting that Azzi can feel the rumple and pull of the cotton, too. “I miss feeling someone’s body against mine. Well, under mine, actually…” She shifts slightly, and forces herself to continue. “Completely naked, our bodies aligned so she can see and feel my quads flex as I move… I love that shit, and also like aligned in a way that if I bend down to kiss her, her tits sit above mine. I don’t know, I guess I like the way it feels when they press into my neck as I’m licking my way down hers.” She shudders, like actually has a full blown shiver run through her at the thought of Azzi’s trite pressing on either side of her throat. She doesn’t even care if Azzi felt the bed shake with her. “That way too I know that mine are pushing into her stomach, and she can feel me everywhere. I like when it’s so intense that there’s no chance I can get out of my head, you know? That feeling of knowing she wants me the way I want her. And like, when we’re fucking, nothing else exists…” And as she realizes what she’s said, she definitely thinks she’s gone too far, far too personal. Although, when she looks over at Azzi, she can make out that she’s back on her back, eyes squeezed shut and her chest is rising and falling in heavy breaths.

Paige thinks - hopes - that she isn’t sleeping. She knows what it means though, if Azzi isn’t sleeping. She waits for a beat, and she stares up at the ceiling in the darkness attempting and failing, to calm herself down; waiting for Azzi to either start snoring so she can feel comfort in knowing she told her truth to her best friend, deep in slumber, or to criticise her and tell her that she’s probably shared too much. Instead, Azzi shifts. She sighs, and it’s deep and drawn out. She’s definitely not asleep. Paige turns her head to see Azzi running her fingertips over her upper body, still looking up towards the roof though, as if she’s scared to look over at Paige. If Paige is reading her body language correctly, she’s definitely not sharing too much with her best friend. In fact, Paige thinks that maybe she’s sharing just enough; Azzi looks flustered.

Azzi breaks the silence next. “Yeah, that sounds…. Um, super hot, actually. What else?” Paige can only stare at Azzi. She doesn’t think she heard anything after the words, ‘super hot’. Azzi turns to meet her stare, because Paige remains silent. “What else do you miss, P”. And in the ever slight dim of the early morning sun that is creeping slowly through her blinds, she can see that Azzi’s eyes are pleading for Paige to continue. Paige bets that Azzi is turned on right now. She also prays that Azzi hasn’t made the same bet, because she would have made good on her return before Azzi put the word ‘sex’ on their agenda to discuss tonight.

Turning her attention back to the ceiling, the eye contact being too much, she gives Azzi exactly what she wants. “I miss kissing so fucking much, but like the kind of kissing where you both know that it’s leading somewhere… Feeling her body under mine, how it arches against me when I kiss and bite down her neck. I miss when she shivers under me while I suck on her earlobe and… fuck, I love when she sucks on my bottom lip before licking her tongue into my mouth, swear I’m just a passenger when that shit happens and I can’t help but grind down against her.”

Paige’s heartbeat pounds in her ears as a result of her own words, and she can’t speak for Azzi but she knows she’s turning herself on. Everything she’s said is true, she’s missing all of it. But then again, everything she’s said is true, and she hasn’t had it for over a year and now she’s talking about it with the one person she wishes she could have it with. She feels her body go feral with the absolute wanting she’s been burying - and had left unfulfilled - for years, and feels it settle even further between her thighs.

“Oh…” Azzi’s tone is breathless, and it makes Paige’s pulse race. “A passenger. I really love that.”

“Yeah,” Paige echoes.

“I always assumed you’d be dominant, always. Like you’d take me- her… you’d take her and tease her until she’s basically begging for it.”

“I do. Fuck, I do…” she desperately tries to get the whining tone out of her words. “I miss teasing. I miss feeling her slide against me and feeling how wet she is for me; how much she wants me. And I miss pushing her past that, working her up until she’s squirming under me, clawing at me to touch her and then touching her until she’s desperate for me to really fuck her. And then, fuck, I miss the feeling of being inside her, feeling her clench around me as she’s about to come but she’s trying so hard not to.”

Paige’s eyes flutter closed of their own accord, fantasising about a woman’s naked body under her own, writhing against her, hips arching, searching for more. For all of their best-friend-ship she has tried, very deliberately, to not put a face on the woman she sees in her dreams, even though she knows it’s Azzi. Guiltily, she spares a second to reflect that even when she’s having real sex with a real woman, she’s still avoiding replacing their face with Azzi’s.

Paige lets herself live within her fantasy for just a moment; seeing herself looking up from in between Azzi’s legs and ogle how she’s taking Paige’s tongue. It makes her squeeze her thighs together even tighter. It also makes her bring the fingers of the hand not next to Azzi, over her chest to brush over herself. It does absolutely nothing but confirm just how fucking wet she is and just how fucking hard her own nipples are.

“And that’s what you miss most?” Azzi’s voice is hoarse; clearly not from a need to sleep. And Paige is still drunk, intoxicated by her own hormones, so she can’t help herself as she replies, automatic and painfully honest.

“No, mostly I miss making her come. I don’t even need to watch, sometimes I’m so fucking consumed by her that I can’t even see, Az… I can just feel it. I miss that feeling.” She’s riled herself up enough now that she’s no longer on her back, eyes closed, and hanging on to the sheets with any and all willpower she can find within herself. Instead, she’s now rolled on to her side, dilated pupils boring straight into Azzi’s and reflecting back to her an overwhelming embodiment of lust, and she’s moved her hands so that they’re resting timidly under her cheek; she doesn’t trust herself to be anything more than completely still in this moment. Azzi’s mirroring her position. Paige isn’t sure how long she’s been this way, either - had she seen Paige fight not to touch herself? That thought alone is enough to make her want to run all the way out of Dallas. However, if she keeps looking, keeps mirroring Azzi, she notes that her face is flushed. Logically, Paige knows this is merely a result of alcohol. Realistically, Paige hopes this flush is proof that she’s just as affected right now, and it’s all Paige can do to force her hands to stay where they are in effort to not test her theory, to not run her hand slowly up her jaw to her cheek and witness Azzi bite her lip to keep from whining her name.

Azzi’s warm, sweet breath washes over her cheek after she swallows and asks, “Not coming, yourself?”

Holy. Fucking. Christ.

Paige feels as though she could almost come just from those words alone, leaving Azzi’s lips in the way they did. Her hips rock towards her best friend of their own accord, she can’t even force herself to stay still because she’s acutely aware of the way her boxers are starting to stick to her and she’s growing so incredibly uncomfortable.

“No.”

She pauses, takes a deep breath. She swears she can hear Azzi holding hers.

“I mean… I’d be lying if I said that if the right girl is touching me in the right way, then I’m completely at her mercy. An orgasm is an orgasm. But like, if she can get me there then I’ll do whatever she wants, really.”

Azzi audibly clears her throat, and Paige can hear her readjust herself closer on the bed. Paige bites down on her bottom lip to stop the smug smile before it makes its way to her cheeks. Whilst there isn’t much light in the room, she’s pretty sure Azzi could see the apples of her cheeks pop with the pure fucking delight she feels right now, so she bites down harder on her lip to stop Azzi from having the upper hand. Paige had just told her that she was easy, essentially. Knowing that if Azzi moved any closer, Paige wouldn’t be in control anymore, and she wasn’t done having her fun just yet.

Paige baits her once more, whispering, “Don’t get me wrong I can be dominant, for sure, but only if you-…”. She pauses again, lets the weight of her words lubricate the tension even further before she finishes. “Only if she’s asked that of me.”

Azzi shivers, and Paige is sure of it because the sheets she’s gripping between her fingers are quickly and violently tugged, before coming to rest again. She takes a new fistful, gripping tighter than she was before. Because if it isn’t the sheets, it’s going to be Azzi’s hips that she’s grabbing at.

“Honestly, I don’t think there’s a better feeling than being able to make another woman come. I miss how it feels to have her right on the edge, and she’s begging me to stop playing but her cunt’s begging me to keep going, and she’s so wet that it’s running down her thighs… like for real I’m trying to get it all but I can’t even keep up.”

The room goes so still, Paige is pretty sure Azzi isn’t breathing. Like, at all.

Paige’s heart is beating so hard she’s worried if she’ll be able to recognise the potential moment it turns into a heart attack, or something. This amount of tension cannot be healthy.

“I love how it feels when I’m eating her out, to like… have my hands against her hips, pressing her down into the bed so she can’t squirm away from me. And you know, I’m always like thinking of ways I can make it more intense for her, too… so as I’m pinning her hips down I bring my fingers to her stomach and push. You know that feeling, yeah?” Azzi nods but Paige’s ego isn’t convinced. Yet, she still watches Azzi bring her hands to lie on both sides of her stomach. And Paige knows when she starts pressing her hands into those muscles, because she hears Azzi moan. It’s quiet, and she tries to hide it, but Paige still hears it. She wishes she could have recorded it in the case she never gets to hear it again.

“I love feeling you drip down my mouth as your hips buck against my face. Like seriously, my face is a saddle and I just wanna be ridden.” Paige hadn’t even realized she’d replaced ‘her’ with ‘you’, though she knew Azzi had because as she looked back at Azzi she noticed her eyes squeezed shut once more; the low light of the room highlights her tongue as it darts across her bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth; and Paige can see her legs are crossed too because of the way that only one knee cap is pressing into the top of the covers and the awkwardness of the angle at which it’s doing so. Paige hopes that Azzi is squeezing her thighs together instead of reaching out to grab at her, for the sake of not ruining their friendship tonight, whilst they both lay drunk on bed next to each talking about how they miss hot, lesbian sex.

Paige thinks she really, really wouldn’t mind if Azzi changes her mind.

“And then I fucking love when it all gets too much for you. How your hands go to my hair and pull, nails scratching roughly against my scalp and your thighs squeeze tighter against my head but like… not enough that I can’t hear you screaming my name over and over.” Paige’s eyes are closed as she’s talking. Because if her eyes are closed then she can continue to imagine, or manifest, that this woman she’s ‘talking’ about having with sex right now is her best friend. “And then when you’re getting closer, your stomach muscles also start, like, pushing back against my fingers but it’s just because your body is fighting the orgasm like, so hard and the pressure from my touch is bringing the orgasm even closer… it’s so hot Az, swear… Swear you taste even better, too, right before you come. And, fuck, I’ll always know when you’re about to come, you don’t even need to tell me, your body is gonna do it for you…”

Paige can get herself rambling. She chooses not to care. “But that shit tastes so fucking good. I honestly think… if I could only eat one thing until the day I die, it would be you...”

Paige keeps her eyes closed, if only to stay a little longer in the false world she’s created. But Paige is also delusional, and more confident now that she doesn’t need to look over at Azzi to know how this is affecting her all the same. She can hear Azzi’s lips part on a strained exhale; she can feel the heat radiating off her squirming body. Paige thinks it’s as if there was a fan, turned on and switched all the way to high, sending waves of anticipation to her clit; she swears she can smell the sweetness of Azzi’s breath, a clear indication that she’s just as turned on, and that if she kissed Azzi lips to confirm as much it would cause an immediate end to their friendship. And even though Paige’s eyes are still closed, it doesn’t help her predicament, really, given that the woman coming undone at her touch and by her tongue in every single one of her fantasies is most definitely the girl lying beside her. Paige wonders if Azzi will think this was all some kind of wet dream tomorrow.

So she goes in for her final - theoretical - thrust.

Fuck, she thinks, she ought to do this kind of foreplay more often.

“And if the sex is that good, I’ll come untouched. Getting my girl right is always how I enjoy sex.”

“Oh,” Azzi all but whispers.

Azzi shifts so that she’s on her side, facing Paige. Sensing the change, Paige moves to mirror Azzi. The best friends are left staring at each other. And although it’s still dark, the sun has risen slightly further, they can each see their favourite set of eyes staring back at them; dark, wild and begging.

“Yeah,” Paige croaks out in response, whimpering softly because lying in this position has forced her to again feel just how soaked she is; how sensitive she feels against her boxers even as she subtly drags a hand down in an attempt to pull at the fabric and readjust them. And she’s so fucking horny that even her legs pressing together, forced into this position by lying on her side, is enough to trick her cunt into thinking she’s about to get what she wants.

“I’ve never had sex like that.” Azzi’s confession is so quiet, her voice barely more than a whisper but it doesn’t fall on Paige’s deaf ears. Azzi’s still staring directly at Paige, who’s thinking that Azzi’s gaze has dipped down to her lips enough times that she knows it can’t be accidental. “Being wanted like that… And wanting her like that, too.” And Paige knows she shouldn’t. She certainly, definitely, absolutely knows she shouldn’t ask the words that immediately try and force their way past her lips. She knows she shouldn’t ask the words without thinking about what might happen after she does, and what that might mean for their friendship. And she really shouldn’t ask them while watching Azzi draw in her bottom lip and bite down, hard. But, Paige has zero self control right now and she’s bordering on also having zero self respect. She knows this might go either way, yet she’s too tipsy and too sexually frustrated to care.

Still watching on as Azzi bites down on her bottom lip, Paige asks the words. “What do you miss about sex?”

“Um.” She pauses, and Paige is seriously considering screaming at her to spit it out. Except Azzi repositions herself, again, and brings her both her hands up the rest in between her pillow and her head. She’s wiggling her toes too, Paige can feel them against the mattress.

She’s nervous, Paige thinks. Or excited. Or unsure. Or a second away from finally getting what she wants, too.

“I don’t think it’s what I miss…” Another pause. Paige is seriously about to just start touching herself.

“It’s more what I want,” Azzi’s words are a whisper, turning almost nonexistent by the end, probably because like a dog about to eat dinner, Paige is pretty sure she’s just started drooling down her chin with anticipation, towards her neck and where her cleavage would be if it wasn’t covered by some old UConn shirt. Azzi doesn’t look disgusted, though, so either she wants to help Paige clean herself up or Paige isn’t outwardly thirsting as much as she thinks. A relief, really. Though, both options would suffice Paige right now.

It’s the confidence gained by Azzi’s proximity that has Paige ready with a follow up question. “And what do you want?” She’d give anything for Azzi to answer this question honestly, to put aside years of what Paige has often perceived as tension, confusion, wanting and ultimately, a lot of waiting. Whilst tonight is otherwise affirming to Paige that her and Azzi might just be on the same page, and about to finally discuss - or act on - the fact, she knows that even if Azzi’s next words aren’t what Paige knows to be true, she still won’t care - can’t care, because all she cares about right now is knowing exactly what Azzi wants.

Paige watches Azzi take a deep breath, her chest rising with it, and even though Paige shouldn’t - not when Azzi is facing her and looking at her and isn’t oblivious to her actions, her eyes fall to the swell of Azzi’s breasts that peek out over her tank top. Actually, Paige thinks they’re more or less threatening to spill out over her tank top in the sidelaying position the girls are in. She can see that Azzi must have removed her bra before bed - unsure of exactly when that happened, but alas, she’s not complaining - because her nipples are so hard. She feels insane, like ‘needs to be restrained’ kind of insane, because she’s resisting every urge not to reach out and tug on one, a flick one, or even just press down on one with her thumb and watch Azzi’s back arch to draw her in closer to Paige.

Azzi speaks again and draws Paige back out of her fantasy. “What you described sounds pretty good.” That hoarse sound in Azzi’s voice is back, and fuck if it doesn’t give Paige a thousand ideas. “I think I’d really like that”

“Shit, okay.” Paige’s mind, and her clit, isn’t exactly assured by Azzi’s confession, if she can even call it that. Pretty good. Did that mean that Azzi liked to be eaten out? Did she know what good head felt like? Or, did Azzi like to be held down while it happens? Was she a hair puller? What would she say, or do, if Paige groaned straight into her as she felt Azzi’s taste change just as she’s about to let go - would she scream, even? Fuck, had she ever… squirted? Paige quickly says a silent prayer that she hadn’t. She wanted to be the first to make that happen.

So many questions. And what if the answers to all of them were yes? Or no? Or maybe something in between? Paige’s mind is running away with possibilities, and she wants very much to ask Azzi right now and have them answered. If she’s already gone this far tonight, she figures there can’t be much harm in her pushing a little further.

Just as she’s about to take that leap, Azzi is abruptly sitting up and pushing the blankets aside. “I, um, have to use the bathroom.” And then Azzi’s gone, within moments, and Paige is left alone in the bed. Her heart is still racing, pupils still dilated, clit still hard and throbbing. She falls back into her pillows, completely spent.

What the fuck had they just done. And what the fuck had they just been about to do.

Azz returns to bed and awkwardly settles in under the covers with her back facing Paige, who subconsciously understands the message in the action and rolls to her side also, so that the best friends face away from each other. Unlike last night, Paige knows there will be no cuddling tonight, at least not until Azzi’s fast asleep and has no control over her true desires. And Paige is glad, honestly, because even though their pillow talk ended so abruptly, Paige still thinks she might just come the second Azzi’s body touches hers.

They don’t say anything about it in the morning. And Azzi hadn’t been in bed when Paige had woken up. Which is good. Because while Paige may have been tipsy last night, she remembers every second of the conversation with utter clarity. Azzi grimaces as Paige walks out into the Kitchen, clearly trying and failing to make coffee. “I think I’m a little hungover,” Azzi admits quietly, a bit of a blush on her cheeks. Paige offers her own smile, handing her the bottle of Tylenol that they’d brought to bed with them last night. Paige knows that Azzi hadn’t had any yet, because it was still on her side of the bed this morning. And Paige was betting that, based on Azzi’s reaction to the situation, she hadn’t dared move close to Paige this morning, even to stop a headache. Azzi murmurs her thanks with her mouth drawn into a straight line smile, before continuing on with her attempt to make them both coffee.

A little while later Azzi is relieved when they stop by a patisserie shop on the way to the airport; Paige insisting on: one, driving Azzi to the airport despite her assurance an uber would do her just fine, and two, that airport food was too expensive and therefore, they needed to leave earlier so that Paige could take her to her favorite spot downtown. Azzi stays quiet for most of the ride. It’s not awkward between them, exactly, but it’s not exactly normal either. Paige isn’t sure if it’s because of Azzi’s hangover, or if it’s because she feels Paige crossed the line last night after having promised that she would make sure nothing got too out of control; however, she’s truly trying not to give a home to the hangxiety trying to stake a claim on her morning. If Azzi wanted to forget about it, she would too.

In time, things would be normal again, she thinks.

They each order their coffee of the day, both grateful for the caffeine after last night. Paige watches Azzi’s eyes roll back as she takes her first bite into her croissant; something she’s both grateful and not so grateful to witness after she was last night imagining that exact same reaction as a result of a different action, because now it’s reigniting and shooting that same heat through her body.

Eventually, they reach the airport, and eventually, Azzi has to move to make sure she makes her flight. They don’t speak much, Paige mostly unsure how two best friends should act after a conversation like the one they dared to have just hours ago, and Paige just hopes that Azzi’s silence is due to her being tired and slightly over thinking her journey to finding her gate number, instead of regretting this recent weekend in Dallas - or worse, their entire friendship. While Azzi moves to get out of the car and collects her suitcase, Paige beats her to it and brings all of her luggage to the sidewalk. They’re left just standing on the sidewalk staring at each other, both not aware of their surroundings and clearly, completely, consumed by their own hesitancy over the game plan of their goodbye.

Azzi goes first.

“Thanks. For having me this weekend, and-,”

She clears her throat; clearly the wrong choice of words. Paige’s eyes go wide; her hand coming up the rub behind the back of her neck.

Azzi corrects herself. “Just, everything. Thank you, P.”

Paige pulls her arm back down at her side, collecting herself. She’s too scared to move closer, though. “I’m just glad you had a good time…”

Azzi offers a small smile, she too, doesn’t make any move to be closer to Paige.

“You did have a good time, right?” And Paige wouldn’t have realized she was so outwardly nervous in this moment, if it weren’t for her sweaty palms she’d began rubbing against her jeans in an attempt to chill the clammy feeling all over. Inside, she’s freaking out, waiting for the moment Azzi decides to part ways, not before telling her off for everything she said last night and recommending they take some space from each other.

“I did,” is all Azzi says. “I should probably go up, though… you know me and airports.”

Paige huffs out a quiet laugh. She’s so grateful that at least Azzi can make a joke right now.

“Mhm… Should I go in there with you and warn them all that you’re a little airport psycho?”

Azzi laughs at this. The kind of laugh that pops her dimples and creases her eyes, head tilting back a little. And Paige isn’t staring at her oesophagus; she certainly isn’t thinking about what it would be like to bite into it.

“Paige! People can hear you.” And Azzi’s fully laughing now, encouraged by Paige’s gummy smile and sparkling baby blues locked in her stare.

“Whatever. Let them.” Paige nods, both hands going up in surrender.

And it’s almost normal again. Paige has no other option but to think that maybe Azzi doesn’t remember the night before. She’s terrified to ask, and even more terrified to know the answer. Instead, she rolls Azzi’s luggage across the sidewalk, prepared to say her goodbyes - hoping desperately that she hasn’t freaked Azzi out to a point that she’ll never see her best friend again. And as Azzi takes it from her, their fingers brush, and naturally, Paige feels it. Of course she does, but she schools her expression as to not spook Azzi. Azzi, however, can’t claim the same nonchalant reaction. She’s awkward, her cheeks are flushed and she lets out a flustered - or embarrassed - giggle and she quickly takes her bags from Paige. Her movements are more rigid than normal, and she won’t meet Paige’s eyes as she turns to walk away.

“Az, wait- ” Paige reaches out to grab her arm. Her only intention being to say goodbye.

Azzi’s brown eyes meet her eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. Azzi seems not to know why Paige stopped her.

“Um… Goodbye?”

“Oh. Of course. Bye P.”

They hug. It’s brief. Paige doesn’t even have time to register anything else but the sweet smell of cupcakes before Azzi’s pulling away, turning around and walking towards the entrance of the airport.

“Text me when you land!” She’s all but yelling after Azzi as Azzi’s all but running to reach check in.

“Uh huh!” Azzi yells back as she all but runs out of Paige’s view.

Yeah. Azzi definitely remembers last night.