Author: Guede Mazaka
“…and then Tseng will excuse himself, too. He’s pretty creative—he might say he’s going to check with the kitchen about Rufus-sama’s dish because Rufus always has to get a zillion custom modifications to whatever’s on the menu. But, I mean, you know.” Elena rolled over and muffled her giggles into a warm spot on the mattress. The tequila was pleasantly simmering in her belly and all the muscles in her shoulders and back, pulled tight by a day of stiff posture, were starting to relax. “You know it’s obvious when Rude is trying not to snigger.”
Fingers lightly traced over Elena’s back, walking themselves over her to the plate of brownies nestled by her left side. They poked a ticklish spot and she giggled again, unable to help kicking her legs a little. It was a strange sensation: she hadn’t worn something this silky and short in ages, and every time she shifted her knees she almost hesitated at the delightful freedom of movement she now had.
“Rufus-sama always gets this look on his face. He knows what Reno’s doing. Better than Tseng anyway, because Tseng always thinks it’s just to provoke him. But he pretends not to because then later he can get Reno into a broom-closet or something.” Where the hell was her glass? It’d been there a moment ago…ah, it’d gone that way. She curved her arm around Tifa and picked it up, but before she could withdraw, Tifa suddenly moved forward so Elena’s mouth was pressed up against the other woman’s belly.
Tifa was stripped down too, out of her black-and-white that was as much armor as Elena’s blue suit was, no matter the more casual air of Tifa’s usual uniform. The lean muscles of her belly rippled with her breath, taut and strong beneath the silk that was so thin Elena could see the quirky shadows of Tifa’s bellybutton. And below that, the ragged upside-down crescent of dark hair. She smiled and nuzzled her way down to lick along it, thoroughly wetting the silk.
“Why a broom-closet?” Tifa said. Her fingers laced through Elena’s hair, and when Elena angled around to look up, Tifa had her hair thrown back in careless abandon. She had just dropped a bit of brownie in her mouth and now was sucking the fingers of her other hand clean of the crumbs, slow and deliberate.
Elena smiled again, and wriggled her tongue down the center of that dark patch, feeling the hairs crush slightly beneath the pressure. “Something about Reno’s grandma and her belt and cherishing childhood memories. I think I understand more of that than I really want to.”
A little smile turned up the corners of Tifa’s mouth. She still had her head tilted back so every time Elena moved, Tifa’s dark mass of hair swayed in a sensuous rustle. “Cloud’s got a couple habits like that,” Tifa muttered. “He and Cid and Vincent head out for goat-hunting in the mountains every year. You don’t want to know where I’ve found goat-smell on his laundry.”
“Ew, ew, ew. That requires more tequila. Definitely.” Elena shoved her nose harder against Tifa and inhaled the beautiful smell there. Ew, boys. They were so gross sometimes. Girls were so, so much better.