Archive of Our Own

It starts as a joke, mostly. It's a lazy Saturday morning when Ravi isn't on shift, for a change, and May doesn't have class, for a change, and they have no particular plans other than lounging around in bed and maybe finding someplace decadent to have a late brunch. He's still in bed when she comes back from her shower, sprawled out in red boxer briefs that do a very nice job with his assets, but he's not sleeping: she watches him watch her cross the room in a silky bathrobe and nothing else with a focused heat that's still thrilling.

"What?" she says, a smile pulling at her mouth.

"Nothing." Ravi pushes himself up until he's sitting, cross-legged on the bed. "Have I mentioned recently that you're beautiful?"

"I don't mind hearing it again," May says, grinning now. That's one thing she really likes about him—that sweet, earnest sincerity. He's got a sense of humor sharp enough to cut when it suits him, but there's always still this sweetness.

She sits down at her vanity, and he slides off the bed to join her on the short bench, which is really not big enough for two people, but she really doesn't mind. She tilts her head to receive the lingering kiss he presses to her mouth.

"You're beautiful," he says again.

"You're distracting me," she retorts, stealing another kiss before turning back to the mirror. "I need to get ready if we're going to get there before noon."

He tucks his face into her throat with a grumble, but lets her get to work on her makeup: toner and foundation, highlights and contouring, lashes and liner. She's putting her lipstick on—a bolder red than she'd usually choose for daytime, but she's kind of feeling it—when she realizes that Ravi is watching her in the mirror with soft, fascinated eyes.

She caps the lipstick and blows a kiss at him in the mirror. "Want me to do yours too?"

It's light, teasing, but then she catches his eyes again and goes still at the look in them. Just for a moment, then he shrugs, and grins, and says, "I don't mind, if you want to."

"Oh, you're in for it," she laughs, grabbing her eyeliner and turning toward him. "Okay, okay, Close your eyes and hold still."

He obeys with an alacrity that she… likes, actually, that she likes a lot. Still, she cups his cheek in her hand before leaning in to carefully trace liner onto his eyelids, watching his lashes flutter a little. Mascara is next, though he barely needs it with those long, lush eyelashes of his.

"Okay," she says, sitting back, reaching for the lipstick. He blinks his eyes open, and oh, that's pretty, his dark eyes even more dramatic than they usually are.

"Yeah?" Ravi breathes.

"Lipstick next. Just—yeah, part them a little for me." He's already doing it, like he's been paying attention. She carefully applies lipstick, the same vibrant red shade as her own. There's a stillness to this now, a silence where she feels suddenly so aware of the warmth of his breath, the sound of her own breathing. This is absolutely nothing at all like the times she got Harry to let her put makeup on him when they were both little. This is, she's beginning to think, something very different.

"There," she whispers when she's done. Ravi blinks at her through his darkened lashes, his red lips parted. He looks—beautiful, in a way she's never thought to apply to him, to any man. Not just handsome, that's always been true. This is, this is something else. She smooths a thumb over his cheekbone, feels the heat of his skin. "You make a really pretty girl."

Ravi sucks in a sharp breath. May winces, ready to start apologizing, then looks at him again. He doesn't look weirded out or offended. He looks kind of dumbstruck, actually, much like the way he looked the first time she took her bra off.

"Oh," she whispers, after a moment. Ravi glances at her, then away. He's blushing furiously, his cheek hot under her palm. Delighted, she says, "Oh, you like that."

"Um," he says. He's squirming a little, and—she glances down—definitely interested in the proceedings.

"It's okay if you like it," she says, leaning in to kiss him lightly. His lips are smoother like this, the faint taste of lipstick lingering. It sends a strange thrill down her spine. "You can be my pretty girl if you want to."

"May," he says, sounding pained.

"I'm not teasing you. I mean it," she says, and she does, more than she expected. She doesn't just mean it. She wants it, feels greedy for it. "Do you? Want to?"

For a moment, there's silence. The sound of them breathing. Then he closes his eyes, like acquiescence, like surrender. "I—I want it."

"Want what?" she asks, a little teasing now. Maybe just a little mean, but he doesn't mind, by the shaky breath he takes, by the way his dick twitches visibly under his briefs.

"I want to be your pretty girl."

"You can, baby," she says, and kisses him again, harder. She doesn't really know what she's doing here, but she likes the way he goes pliant against her, eager but soft. Without breaking the kiss, she shrugs out of her silky bathrobe and drapes it over his shoulders. When they part again, he's blinking at her through those long gorgeous lashes.

"Next time," she says. "Next time we'll really doll you up, make you pretty."

Ravi groans, flushing, but he pushes his arms into the sleeves of her bathrobe. Sheer silk, embroidered flowers at the collar. Pretty.

She puts her hands on him, sliding her palms up his chest to tweak his nipples, then cup his pecs, feeling the heat and softness of his skin. "Next time maybe you can try on one of my bras."

A gasp shudders out of his mouth, and then he's leaning in, kissing her again, messy and wet and eager, undone, just from this. His lipstick is smeared slightly when he pulls back, and she rubs a thumb over his mouth to smear it more.

"You like that, huh?"

"Yeah," he breathes.

"Get you something lacy of your own, maybe." She can picture that. Red lace. It'll look gorgeous. She'll have to start looking into it. Later.

"Yeah," says, kissing her again. His palm cups her bare tit, then slides down between her legs where she's wet, pulsing. "Yeah."

"Next time," May promises him, with another hard kiss. He moans against her mouth, working his fingers into her. God, he has such good hands. But then he pulls away, his mouth swollen, his lipstick smeared, and oh, she wants that more. She kisses him again, delicately. "You wanna be a good girl and get on your knees for me?"

She doesn't really know where this is coming from, but it works; Ravi groans, sliding off the bench to hit the floor with a thump. May parts her legs, lets him shove between them, her silky, feminine bathrobe hanging off his shoulders as he licks into her pussy like he's starving, moaning around her clit.

"Good girl," she gasps, digging her fingers into his hair, holding him in place, right where she wants him. He moans again, the vibration driving her higher, up toward the stratosphere. "Such a good, fuck, beautiful girl for me, right there, baby, right there right there—"

It breaks off into a high desperate moan as she comes, shuddering, grinding against his mouth. He works her through it, then when she finally lets go of his hair, rests his cheek against her thigh, panting, face wet and smeared with her juices, lipstick destroying, fucking beautiful.

"You like that, baby?" she asks, and he nods, gasping. His hand works between his legs, rubbing frantically over his cock. "Let me see."

He moans, but takes his hand away, so she can see how hard he is, how wet, smeared on the fabric of his briefs, slick and sticky.

"God, so pretty. Look at how wet you are."

"Yeah," he breathes, his hand drifting back to his cock, stroking absently through the fabric. "Just for you."

"Yeah?" May asks. She licks her lips, meets his eyes, and keeps driving this impulse, hoping she's right. "Such a good girl. Look how wet your pussy is for me."

He lets out a shocked, strangled gasp, his fingers tightening on her thigh, and oh, he's coming, just from that, barely touching himself, his cock pulsing and wetting the fabric even more. An aftershock of pleasure pulses through her; she squeezes her legs together to savor it.

Ravi sags, eventually, resting his cheek against her thigh, hiding his face a little. She strokes her fingers through his hair. For a little while, they stay there in silence.

"We should… talk about this?" he asks tentatively, eventually.

"Mmhm," May says. Now that she's not overwhelmed by a horny daze, she can feel herself blushing at the memory of some of the things she just said. But— "You liked it, though. Right?"

He rubs his face against her thigh, laughing sheepishly. "I mean. Obviously."

"Okay. Good. Me too."

He laughs a little, nuzzling at her skin. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She slides her fingers through his hair, tugging a little until he lifts his head enough that she can lean down and kiss him. She can taste herself on his lips and tongue. "Maybe a shower first. Then brunch. Then we can talk about it."

"Okay," he says, but when he leans in to kiss her again, they don't break apart for a long time.