Chapter Text
The light in Svetlana's bathroom is really, really good. Rose isn't surprised. Svetlana is gorgeous. Of course she'd have great light. Makeup like that doesn't just happen, although Svetlana hardly needs it. She was gorgeous in the golden evening light at Shane and Ilya's wedding when Rose met her, and she's stunning everywhere else too. Anyway, it's not really the bathroom. It's like a dressing room, sort of, between the bedroom and the bathroom.
Sveta and Rose really hit it off at the wedding. By the end of the night, they were laughing like they'd known each other forever. At this point, she's one of Rose's best friends. They haven't spent much time together, but they text and they Facetime, and they meet up when their schedules align. Tonight is one of those times. Rose was going to fly into New York, but it's not like it's hard to get from Boston to NYC. She didn't make it for the Centaurs' game against Boston, but she made it for the club night after. The Centaurs lost, but they pushed it into overtime, so it feels like a win. Shane and Ilya seem happy, at least.
Flying is tough on Rose. The air in the plane dries out her skin and hair. She did a face mask and those little eye things on the plane, which helped, but that meant she showed up without much makeup on. Not a cute look for a fun night out with her bestie and her bestie's hot husband and her bestie's hot husband's hotter friend. Fortunately, Sveta volunteered her bathroom. Rose spritzes a leave-in conditioner over her hair to smooth it down and does her makeup to the sounds of her favorite getting-ready playlist and Ilya and Sveta trying to convince Shane to do shots in the other room.
Rose has really enjoyed having a friend like Svetlana. Most of her girl friends are actors, which is great, but also kind of fraught, because often they're competing for the same roles. She used to have weirder friends too, who only wanted indie roles, but some of them told her she sold out when she got cast in X Squad, even though she's done more artsy stuff since. But Svetlana doesn't care about any of that. She only cares about cars and hockey, and while Rose isn't super into cars, she does like hockey. And she likes Svetlana. Sveta is funny and sharp and sophisticated and smart and generous. Rose understands why Sveta and Ilya have been best friends since they were little. They're kind of like blind-cast versions of each other. At the core, there's something essential they share.
There's a fleck of mascara above Rose's eye. She leans into the mirror to dab it away, careful not to ruin the rest of her eye makeup. She wants to look extra pretty tonight. Not to impress the hockey players — God knows she's met enough hockey players in her life — but to match Svetlana, who always looks perfect. Rose hasn't been on a date in she doesn't even remember how long, but that's not what this is about. Tonight is for the girls and the gays. Rose straightens up and puts on lipstick, something soft and pink.
Svetlana comes up behind her, so tall and elegant in a glittering dress and heels. She wraps her arms around Rose's waist and puts her chin on Rose's shoulder, gazing at both of them in the mirror. Rose grew up a theater kid. She's used to touching like this. It's a little bit cozy and a little bit tingly. She's not sure Sveta has touched her before, actually, aside from a casual hand on the arm or her knee while they were talking, and maybe a few hugs.
"Beautiful," Svetlana says. Her curls tickle the back of Rose's neck where Rose has her hair clipped up. It's nice. Sveta smells really good.
"Talking to yourself?" Rose teases.
"No, my pretty Rose," Svetlana says, pretending to be outraged. Her English is flawless, because everything about her is flawless, but even though her accent is mostly American, she has this way of saying the letter R that's just delicious. Velvety, almost. It makes Rose shiver.
Rose was wearing a cute little cream-colored sweater on the plane, because she gets cold on planes. She took it off before she did her makeup, naturally, so she's standing here in one of those tanktops that has a little lace on the neckline and pretends to be a camisole. It's old, but it's comfortable. No one was going to see it. She has another outfit for the club, obviously, but she's still in her plane clothes for now. She looks shabby next to Svetlana's sleek sparkling outfit.
"You think you can be seen with me?" Rose jokes. At least she's wearing a good bra.
"Of course," Sveta says easily. "Just one thing would make it absolutely perfect."
"What's that?" Rose asks. "I mean, I'm not dressed yet. It might not be just one thing."
"One thing," Sveta repeats. "You're not blushing."
Rose tilts her head in confusion. Maybe it's some kind of Russian-to-English thing she doesn't understand? But that's never happened before. Sveta grew up in America; they speak the same English. "I need more blush?"
"No, silly," Sveta says, and she kisses the side of Rose's neck.
"Oh," Rose says. For a second she thinks that the spark that zaps through her is a static shock, but the crackle lasts much longer. Sveta's lips are so soft. Her breath is warm against Rose's skin. It feels so nice. Rose closes her eyes and then opens them again. Sveta meets her gaze in the mirror.
"Okay?" Sveta asks softly.
"Is this a cultural thing?" Rose asks, because okay, yes, she is panicking a little bit. Her stomach feels all floaty and she's not sure she doesn't have a fever, but her pussy is surprisingly enthusiastic about the whole situation. Way more than she expected it to be, if she's honest. So that's something she needs to think about at some point. "Like, friends kiss each other's necks in Russia?"
Sveta smiles. "Do you want it to be?"
Rose bites her lip. She can feel the delicate balance of the moment. She can tell the truth. Sveta knows that Rose hasn't gotten laid in a while, and that she's been lonely, and that she's been working too hard to take care of herself. Sveta sent her chocolates and flowers for Valentine's day, and a link to a site that reviews sex toys. Rose bought herself a really nice one, and it's the kindest thing she's done for herself in at least six months. Maybe it's time to expand her horizons.
She looks at herself in the mirror: her face is flushed and her eyes are shiny. And Sveta's right. She looks better blushing.
"No," she says. "I just didn't know you, you know, liked girls."
Sveta shrugs. "Everyone is hot."
"I didn't know I liked girls," Rose says. She licks her lips slowly.
"Well, do you?" Sveta puts her chin back on Rose's shoulder, so comfortable, like any answer really is okay. And somehow that makes it all right.
"Kiss me again," Rose says. Sveta smiles and turns her face and Rose meets her halfway. Sveta tastes like lipstick and alcohol and it's hitting Rose like neat whiskey.
"Sweet Rose," Sveta says in that throaty voice. She strokes her hands over Rose's stomach. Rose is tingling from her head to her toes. She desperately wants Sveta to touch her boobs. Can she move Sveta's hands up? Will Sveta be offended? Worse, will she stop? Because Rose doesn't want her to stop.
"Wait," Rose says suddenly. "What about Shane and Ilya?"
Sveta smiles. "They'll meet us at the club."
"Oh," Rose says. "Good."
"I told them girls take a long time to get ready," Sveta says. Her hands are still moving up and down Rose's belly and over her hips in hypnotic strokes. "They've never had sisters, you know, or girlfriends. You can tell them anything and they'll believe it. You didn't hear the door?"
"I guess I was, uh, distracted," Rose says. Please, please, please, she wants Sveta to touch her boobs. She wants to touch Sveta's boobs too, but she settles for tangling her hands in the short hem of Sveta's dress, her fingertips grazing Sveta's smooth thighs. Is this what teenage boys feel like? Or teenage lesbians? Did she feel like this as a teenager? Is this why she's always dating gay men by accident?
Sveta's lips quirk in the mirror like she can read Rose's mind. "Look how beautiful you are," she says. Rose glances in the mirror. Sveta's hands cup her boobs, fucking finally, and Rose watches her own lips part in pleasure. God, it feels so good, even through her bra.
"Oh, fuck," she says.
Sveta hums in her ear. "Keep watching." She traces the stupid lace over Rose's — boobs is too juvenile now that it's happening, her tits — and Rose can't help arching into Sveta's hands. Sveta makes a pleased little noise. She trails her nails over the swell of Rose's pushed-up cleavage. It's like she's connected every single one of Rose's nerves directly to her pussy. Rose can't remember the last time she was this turned on.
"That's good," Rose pants. She's already breathless. "It's so good."
"Just wait," Svetlana says. She kisses Rose's neck again, nibbling up and down. Rose whimpers and tips her head over to give Sveta better access. Sveta slides her hands down Rose's belly again and then up under her tanktop, up under her bra, until her bare hands are squeezing Rose's tits. Her thumbs rub over Rose's nipples in dreamy circles. Rose can feel herself getting wet. Is Sveta wet too? Suddenly Rose wants so badly to feel Sveta slick under her fingers. Maybe her mouth if she gets brave later.
God, she hopes she gets brave later.
In the mirror, she looks wanton, wanting, leaning into Sveta's lips and hands. Sveta pushes Rose's bra up and it's kind of strangling Rose's tits but it's kind of hot too, to feel held down and exposed at the same time. Her nipples look so dark pink in the soft light of Sveta's bathroom. Sveta pinches one gently as her other hand glides down and down Rose's belly. Rose gasps.
Sveta's hands still instantly. "Too much?"
"No," Rose says. "Keep going. Please."
Sveta's fingertips dance along the waistband of Rose's stretchy airplane pants. She doesn't usually go for athleisure, but she likes to be comfortable when she's flying. She's grateful for that now. It's easy for Sveta to slide her hand underneath, her wrist working against the fabric. When her fingers brush Rose's clit through her panties, Rose moans so loudly she surprises herself.
Sveta laughs, low and sweet. "Good thing I sent the boys away."
"Fuck," Rose says. She's almost dizzy with need and pleasure. "Don't stop."
"Like this?" Sveta teases, and she touches Rose again. Rose has never been this loud. Maybe it's watching herself, seeing how her body responds to Sveta's touch. It's so fucking hot to see Sveta's hands on her. Rose has to let go of Sveta's dress and brace her hands on the counter because her legs won't hold her. She's wide-eyed and her hair is falling out of her claw clip and she's moaning like it's her fucking job and Sveta is just touching her and touching her and it feels so fucking good.
"Yes, Rose," she whispers in Rose's ear. "Show me. I want to see your face when you come."
"Fuck," Rose says, "fuck fuck fuck." Sveta's fingers dance over her clit and tease her tits and every time Rose asks for something, Sveta gives it to her. It's so good and not enough at the same time: Rose is almost overstimulated but she wants Sveta's fingers inside her. Before she can ask for more, she's coming. It's like being submerged in a vat of hot honey, the pleasure so stinging-sweet that it's close to pain, but Rose can handle it. She watches herself through half-closed eyes, seeing what Sveta sees, and it's so fucking hot. Her head tilts back onto Sveta's shoulder and her whole body shakes. Sveta holds her, two fingers pressed hard to Rose's clit, murmuring in her ear about how good and how pretty she is.
Rose is still weak-kneed but she turns and slips her hand under Sveta's dress, fumbling a little but finding the slippery heat she craves when she hooks her fingers under Sveta's tiny panties. She kisses Sveta and kisses her and kisses her and touches her and she knows at first she's not very good at this, but it's not like it's hard to figure out what Sveta likes. Sveta lets her know when she's doing something right: with her voice and her body and the way her fingers dig into Rose's shoulders. Rose knows her way around a clitoris, anyway, even if she's only ever touched her own before.
After a few minutes, Rose has found a rhythm that has Sveta swearing into her ear. Sometimes it's English, sometimes it's Russian, but it always seems positive, so Rose keeps going. And fuck, she loves the way Sveta feels. She slides her fingers along Sveta's folds. There are so many textures to savor: Rose wants to experience all of them. Her other hand caresses Sveta's tits through her dress. Rose takes her time, teasing Sveta until Sveta is moaning on a note that rises and rises. Rose kisses her frantically, swallowing the sound of Sveta's pleasure, and then Sveta's nails are jabbing into her as Sveta comes and it feels so good. Rose holds her close, her lips against Sveta's hair.
After a minute or two, Sveta leans back in Rose's arms, blowing out a long breath.
"Very nice, my pretty Rose." She smiles, lazy and seductive. "This was your first time with a woman, right?"
"Yeah," Rose says. "Um, I enjoyed it."
"Maybe later we can enjoy each other some more?" Sveta suggests. "After we get back."
"I'd like that," Rose says. She isn't sure what this is, whether it's just fooling around or something else, but she doesn't have to think about it now. She can just enjoy the last shivers of pleasure and the company of her good friend. The post-orgasm glow is kind of like being tipsy. She probably shouldn't make any decisions while it lasts.
"I should probably change," Sveta says, plucking at her dress. It's not too wrinkled — the sequins disguise how rumpled the skirt is — but they're both in disarray, a little sweaty and definitely flushed. Rose is going to have to fix her makeup. She can see the marks of Sveta's nails on her shoulders. Maybe she'll just leave those uncovered. They'll fade eventually. Maybe the boys won't notice. They're usually too wrapped up in each other to pick up on details like that.
Does this make Ilya her hookup-in-law twice over? Rose laughs at the thought. Sveta smiles at her.
"Nothing," Rose says, shaking her head. "You look great."
"At least I'm going to change my underwear," Sveta says with a wink.
"Me too." Rose turns on the water in the sink and they both wash their hands, fingers tangling together under the water. It's sweet and it's silly and Rose is genuinely enjoying whatever this is. It doesn't take long to fix her smudged lipstick and put on her cute little dancing outfit. In the car on the way to the club, Sveta puts her hand on Rose's knee and squeezes gently. It's comforting.
"All right?" Sveta asks.
"I'm great," Rose says. "Um, I probably won't say anything to the boys. Not unless they ask."
Sveta laughs. "Can you imagine? They'll be too busy gazing into each other's eyes."
"Not because I feel weird about it," Rose says. "I don't feel weird about it. I feel good about it." When she says it, she realizes it's true. Maybe her big epiphany arrived later than she expected, but it's not like she hasn't been joking about trying women for years. If anything, she's glad that Svetlana is the one who broke that seal. Someone Rose already knows. Someone Rose already loves. "It's just nice to have something that's only ours for a little while."
"I'm not telling them because Ilya will be insufferable," Sveta says. "For years, he's been telling me I should kiss you. What is it about couples? They always want everyone paired up."
"Oh, yeah, it's like an obsession for them." Rose licks her lips. "For years, huh?"
"Ah, yes," Sveta says, sounding shy. "Maybe my little crush wasn't as obvious as I thought?"
"I mean, compared to Shane and Ilya, nobody's is," Rose says. There's something warm blooming in her chest. She puts her hand on top of Sveta's. "Will you dance with me later?"
"I'll dance with you any time," Sveta says, and Rose has to look out the window at the way the city lights shine, because Sveta's eyes are too bright.