Chapter Text
“so when are you planning on doing it?”
her and owen are shoulder to shoulder, their proximity making abby bristle, her eyes anywhere but him. they had both come to make drinks. house music penetrates the kitchen. she hates these things, especially since meeting ellie, the only person she knows who loathes them more, but it’s leah’s birthday, and she has to show. a gift sent won’t do; she’d infuriatingly insisted that the only present she wanted was her friends and to get wasted.
abby isn’t drunk, because she’s driving her and ellie home, but she’s thinking of giving in the longer owen speaks to her.
“i don’t know,” she answers, honest though gruff. “whenever feels right.”
“so it’s not gonna be a big thing?”
“no, she’d hate that.”
“... alright.” owen makes his drink a double. rum.
abby does, too. vodka. “why do you ask?” her eyes flick to the living room, visible from the kitchen counter. ellie had been staring and sulks, averting her gaze and replying to the conversation. her inaudible words make manny laugh. she’s sank into the couch, slouching with her knee bouncing and arms crossed, jaw tight. abby pours orange juice into her solo cup.
“because i’m… curious?” owen attempts, voice peaking with uncertainty. “am i not allowed to check up on you?”
“... you’re acting fucking weird,” abby mumbles, plucking her cup and nearly turning to leave.
“abs, i’m trying to say that i’m happy for you.”
she sighs, sipping her drink, the alcohol her only escape from the utter awkwardness of this conversation. she glances back to the living room. ellie is gone. she nearly chokes. god, she’d been known to storm out of places, but now? abby takes a desperate chug of her drink, wincing when she pulls off and it’s drained, and sets it on the counter, swiping at her mouth as she trudges into the living room. “where’d she go?”
manny supplies, “uhhh…”
“the bathroom,” nora answers, pointing in the general direction.
“thanks,” abby says, but she hardly realizes she’s already walking away, her feet moving before her mouth until she’s standing in front of the door. she knocks three times. “ellie?” no response, so she tries the knob. it’s locked. “ellie, c’mon, i know - ”
before she can process it, the lock clicks loose, the door cracks, and ellie’s hand is gripping her shirt, dragging her inside and pressing her body to the door to close it. her breath is hot on abby’s face, her eyes ired, pupils small.
abby would be intimidated if ellie didn’t have to stand on her tiptoes to kiss her. she tastes like alcohol, having drank far more than abby, and altoids, the sense overwhelming as ellie tongues into her mouth, one hand bunched in abby’s shirt as the other yanks her hair, loose and for the taking.
“why were you…,” ellie starts, breathless between their kisses, “why were you talking to owen?”
“he talked to me.” in turn to ellie’s hostility, abby feels a growl pool in her throat as she slips her hands into her pockets, tugging her in with a firm grip on her ass. she presses a sloppy, mouthing kiss to the corner of her mouth, then, to her neck, bending to be on her level. “you know i don’t feel that way about him, els.”
ellie speaks, “do i?” she can feel her throat bob against her mouth when she talks, and the grip she has on abby’s hair goes firmer. “you’re - ”
abby pulls off and grasps her by the face, thumbs making a firm indent in her cheeks as she squishes them, muffling her accusations. she looks cute like that. all blushing and annoyed and miffed, unable to speak. “can you shut up and let me talk?”
she shakes her head and grapples at abby’s wrist, uselessly tugging on it.
“stop that.” slowly, she eyes the room for anything of use, and she’s pushing ellie so she’s facing the sink and pressing a hand to her back so she’s bent over. they’re in front of the mirror now. abby can see the top of her head, bowed and petulant. she grabs her hair and tugs her so she’s looking in her reflection. “stay like this, or i’ll keep pulling your hair.”
ellie grits out, “fuck you, thought you wanted to fuck owen - ”
she yanks it so hard her nails dig into her scalp. “handlebars it is.”
her hands are gripping the sides of the sink for dear life as tears well in her eyes, her averted gaze shiny and wet. “what’re you gonna do?”
ellie had fallen asleep and had to be woken by abby before they left, so she’d hardly had any time to get ready. she’s wearing the first things she could find: nike shorts and one of abby’s tees, which goes so far it almost looks like a dress, covering the bottoms entirely. they’re easy to tug down with her boxers, one handed, and abby pulls her shirt up her back to expose her. “eyes up,” is the only warning she gives.
her finger feels between her legs and plunges into ellie’s wet heat, adjusting her to the stretch before abby slowly begins fucking her. low, sweeping motions that torture the textured part inside her cunt. “keep looking at yourself.” abby glances at the mirror, and ellie is furiously biting her lip, eyes glazed, nose scrunched, trying to keep quiet. she looks pained.
but she likes it, or she would have said something by now. their sex is this harsh, more often than not. sometimes more brutal.
“let’s see,” abby murmurs, slipping a second finger in, and it makes ellie spread her legs more, making the feeling of her walls all the more tantalizing, less clenched and more pliant, making wet noises with every slide. “do you like this?” she lessens the grip on her hair. it’s just tight enough to keep her upright now.
she can’t stay entirely silent when abby quickens the pace. ellie gasps and lets out strangled, muted grunts, grinding back as she fucks her. “yeah, fuck, keep fucking me,” she demands below her breath. “show - ha - show me how much you fucking - ”
“shut up.” abby looms over her, grabbing her by the chin, her wrist wedged uncomfortably between their bodies, but she ignores it, pumping her over and over and over, intentful, aimed. “if i had my strap right now…”
“but you don’t - nnn, fuck - !”
she clamps a hand over her mouth to cut her moan off, eyeing the door as if someone is about to burst in. “be quiet before they hear you, babe. c’mon.” and her third is inside, and ellie’s knees jelly, only held by abby’s body on hers, forcing her against the sink. she’ll have bruises. or at least, abby hopes so.
a cacaphony of moans ring against her hand alongside something wet, and abby realizes with widened eyes, she’s fucking licking me. the palm of her hand is practically dripping with her spit, and abby stares into ellie’s reflection. her eyes are incognizant, her brows raised in her ardor. “i can fucking feel you,” abby grumbles, low and sultry. “i can feel how long you were waiting.”
she rubs her swipes her thumb across ellie’s clit and onlooks in delight as she goes silent for a few seconds, unable to bear it, and crumples, crying out against her hand and slackening, cunt tightening around her fingers. not quite there yet. but close.
“you think i could want anyone else? huh? when you’re all laid out for me like this?”
ellie doesn’t nod or shake her head, too lost in herself to do so.
pointedly, abby fucks her faster, thumb working firmer, and before ellie can cum, she clarifies, “that was a question.”
so she orgasms, nodding pathetically and digging her grip into the sink, arching up into abby’s probing fingertips, so far that the tip of abby’s thumb is moved to her pelvis while her knuckle resides on her clit, a bonier, jagged sweep that makes ellie drool against her hand, the dampness seeping down her chin.
and all abby can think about is how lucky she is, and how she wishes she knew. abby wishes ellie knew how much she loves her. and how much she can’t fucking wait to pop the question.
but for now, she’ll coax her through, fucking her until she taps on her arm, their little gesture to stop, and gasps when abby finally removes her hand from her mouth. ellie pants, staring at herself in the mirror, spit down her face, and she grabs a hand towel to wipe it off. “… fuck…”
“hm?” abby hums smugly, pulling ellie’s boxers and shorts back over, letting the shirt cascade back down. “you still gonna run off?”
“fuck you.”
“you love me.”
“lies.”
“sure, el.” abby kisses the back of her neck before she stands upright, righting herself in the mirror, fixing the part of her hair. ellie had done a number on it. “do you need a few minutes?” she reaches around to turn on the sink, running her soaked hand under the water.
“… can we just leave?” she’s still panting. poor thing.
“why?” abby feigns a frown. “we haven’t even had cake yet.”
“abby.” utterly pathetic, ellie buries her face in her hands and groans. “‘m drunk and you smell good and i wanna eat - ”
“shhh.” she runs her a hand over ellie’s head, soothing where she’d pulled. “stop being needy.”
“i - ” ellie sputters and huffs, shooting her a glare. “i’m waiting in the car.”
“i don’t believe you.”
“watch me.”
abby stiffens, shoulders tensing. “you really wanna do this right now?” ellie lives to piss her off. she knows this. she lives to anger her and get the brunt of it in their bed. or their bathroom or couch or wall or even against their fridge, that one time.
and, irritatingly, ellie slinks to the door and steps out, but not before picking abby’s keys out of her pocket, jangling them as a taunt in front of her face.
she’d sort that out later.