Work Text:
Joanne is let in by the building’s doorman around 7 pm, recognized by the burly, suited man with a polite nod of his head. She remembers to thank him, but wastes little time in getting into the elevator and pressing the button for Bobbie’s floor.
Joanne looks to the reflective ceiling and, on the upwards crawl to Bobbie's floor, wonders if she should have gone home instead of coming straight from work. There was the very real possibility that Bobbie didn't even wish to see her at all, that Joanne's sudden appearance would be unwelcome. In fact, Joanne could easily double down on that.
Should she have gone home, taken a shower, changed, gotten her head on, before coming here?
Probably.
The elevator doors open with a loud ring, and Joanne winces as if she’d been caught. She goes to Bobbie’s apartment door blindly, one of two doors in the short hallway. She knocks, and then it occurs to her that her hair must look frightful from the autumn wind. She’s trying to smooth down flyaways when Bobbie opens her door.
Joanne draws in a breath, and then freezes. Bobbie looks as if the last person she’d expected to see was her. She had anticipated this, but, clearly, not well enough.
“Jo,” Bobbie breathes.
“Uh, hi,”
“Hi,” A flash of anxiety crosses Bobbie's face, and she throws a look over her shoulder.
“Can I come in,” Joanne hears herself ask.
Bobbie opens the door wider and steps aside, watching Joanne with huge eyes as she enters her apartment for the first time in over a week. Once standing in the entrance way, Joanne squeezes her eyes shut, taking a moment, before then peeling off her jacket. This definitely was a mistake, but she is here anyway. She won’t leave before she’s settled it.
“I - we haven't spoken at all today, I thought, something might be wrong. You were upset,” Bobbie looks further into the apartment once more. Joanne feels herself bristle at the lack of focus, when she feels already so stupid.
This is when it occurs to her that Bobbie might not be alone tonight, simply missing her phone calls.
“Is someone else here?” She whispers icily. Bobbie’s eyes go wider.
“Um, yeah, actually -”
Joanne stalks past her girlfriend and checks every corner of the flat for the other woman, or perhaps a man, feet sticking out from beneath the curtains. All day, she has been the one worrying herself sick while Bobbie entertained someone else? It made Joanne want to shout her head off.
Instead of finding a secret beau, however, in the living room she reels upon a child sitting on the floor with a pair of huge scissors in her hands. A mess of glue, papers and magazines lay on the coffee table in front of her, and an eerily cheerful cartoon is playing on the tv. Joanne stops in the middle of the room and stares down at her, unsure of what she’s seeing until the girl looks up and the scissors slip from her fingers to clatter against the wood.
“Hi,” The tiny girl says, her hair a softer, blonder version of Bobbie’s, Joanne notices, as she turns back to her show. Now, Joanne wonders how she hadn’t heard the high-pitched singing and laughing in the first place.
“Hi,” Joanne parrots back.
“This is Siobhan,” Bobbie says, suddenly beside her. Joanne turns to her, and blinks as Bobbie smiles wearily. Jagged pieces of paper slip off the coffee table to the floor.
Joanne can’t believe she’s asking this, “Is she…?”
“No, god no,” Bobbie shakes her head. Joanne can't say she isn't relieved. “She’s Sam's, I’m just watching her for the night while she's out with her husband,”
“Oh,” Joanne tries not to look like she's just recalled Bobbie has an older sister.
"Jeremy," Siobhan says with her eyes on the tv, barely tuned in to their conversation.
Bobbie nods. "His name is Jeremy. They got married a few months ago in Sicily. Siobhan here was the cutest flower-girl,"
"Well,"
Bobbie motions with her head toward the kitchen, off to the side but still in view of the living room. Joanne follows her sheepishly. “Oh. Wait for me before you keep cutting, Siobhan,”
“Why?” Siobhan whines, even though she hasn’t moved to pick up the scissors until then, enraptured by the dancing shapes on the tv.
“I want to make the collage with you, ok? So wait for me to come back,” Bobbie says while pulling down a glass and filling it with water from the sink. They hear Siobhan groan, but she doesn’t reach for the scissors and Bobbie grins as she hands Joanne the glass of water.
“I don’t like leaving her alone with those scissors. They're bigger than her head,” Bobbie explains, watching Joanne as she takes a chaste sip. “So… Hi,”
“Right. I’m so sorry about that,” Joanne says. She puts the glass down, leans against the counter and places two hands over her eyes. What was she thinking? That Bobbie was cheating on her? “That’s not why I came here,”
Bobbie gently takes her hand away from her face. “So, why did you? I thought you were working?”
“I was,” Joanne sighs. She caresses Bobbie’s wrist. “I couldn’t stop thinking, when you didn’t answer my calls…”
When Joanne is quiet for a beat, Bobbie seems to come to a realization. “Ah, I’m sorry about that, I’ve been in the iron fist of a toddler all day. I haven’t checked my phone once since she got here.”
“Of course, I understand,” Joanne says hurriedly. She tampers down an urge to leave in exile, ashamed of the hoops she'd jumped through. Of course it wasn't anything so dramatic as she'd feared.
“You said you couldn’t stop thinking; about what?”
Joanne looks up at her. Her head feels slow after the way she’d just acted, embarrassment making her feel small. She takes a moment to gather her words.
“That you were mad, or, like, upset.”
Bobbie is surprised. “Why would I be upset?”
“Because I haven’t had time for you, because it’s been so long since we’ve even been in the same room.” She explains. Really, it feels obvious, but she forces herself to say it anyway. She hasn’t been fully available for quite some time, and she’d feared Bobbie had had enough.
Bobbie listens to her before shaking her head. “It has been long, but I’m not upset. I miss you like crazy, but I can live with it. We talk every day, and we had lunch at that restaurant on Sunday, remember?”
Joanne nods. Essentially, Bobbie is just repeating the words Joanne had been trying to placate herself with, and though they hadn’t worked when she’d been at the office, they sound new and work now. Joanne feels something come apart inside of her at Bobbie's kind words.
“Yes, I remember,” She breathes. Bobbie had made her laugh out loud over an absurd anecdote, sliding her foot along her ankle, that day. She’d been especially beautiful, because of their long separation, just as she is now.
The memory of their lunch date had kept Joanne from completely losing her head during this period, as work piled up between them and her free time drained away faster than her energy.
“I know you’re thinking about me when we’re not together,” Bobbie assures her. Joanne nods again, more stable. This is an absolute truth. “Can you stay for dinner?”
Joanne says yes. She flutters her eyelashes as Bobbie kisses her knuckles, feeling a gentle pressure building in her belly in the seconds before Bobbie leans down to her and kisses her mouth. Joanne grasps her hip with her free hand, humming softly against her. She’s not ready when Bobbie pulls away.
“Uh, I've just started cooking. It won’t be, um, it won’t be done for at least an hour, so if you want to shower or something you can do that. I have clothes in the top shelf of my dresser that should fit you, if you'd like something clean to wear,”
Now that she's mentioned it, a shower would do Joanne a world of good. But, even better than that…
“Jo, if you keep looking at me like that I’m going to kiss you again and this time I won’t be able to stop. We’ll traumatize a child and I won’t even care,” Bobbie whispers, pleads really.
Joanne drops her head on Bobbie’s shoulder.
Standing under the spray of the shower head further clears Joanne’s mind as well as rinses away the long, trying day she’s had at the office. Even before she’d come here and made a fool of herself she’d been dead on her feet. So, she washes slowly, taking her time in her routine to reconnect with her body.
She’s out of the bathroom after nearly a full forty minutes, dresses in three, and is back in the kitchen at 8:15, not bothering to put her heels back on.
She finds Bobbie making some kind of sauce at the stove. She feels warmth upon the sight of her dearest, and unlike before, the pleasant sensation isn't overridden with guilt. Thus, it's a little overwhelming.
Joanne finds herself wanting to kiss her again.
“Hi,” Bobbie smiles when she notices her standing by the fridge, and Joanne is all at once short of breath. Just as it occurs to open her mouth and reply, like a normal person, Siobhan comes out from behind Bobbie’s legs.
“Hi Jo-anne,” Siobhan walks toward her and grabs her hand, pulling her further into the room. “Come with me, now,”
Joanne follows her, glancing up to catch Bobbie’s expression. The redhead is apparently engrossed in her sauce, however Joanne notices a sly grin on her lips.
“Food’s ready,” Siobhan informs her. And keeps pulling her until they find the small pine dining table underneath a double-set window. After a second of watching Siobhan struggle, Joanne helps her into a chair.
“It’s almost ready, in like two minutes,” Bobbie corrects from the stove.
"Sit here," Siobhan says, patting a place mat beside her's. Joanne hesitantly relents. Once settled, Siobhan hums, and starts kicking her legs.
“Do you need any assistance?” Joanne asks from the table, giving the child a quick side-eye. She has doubts she'll be let to wander very far. Luckily, Bobbie, hair up in a ponytail, shakes her head.
“No thanks, baby,” Bobbie says. Siobhan looks up at Joanne, here. “I forgot to mention, there’s wine in the cabinet if you’d like to have a glass,” Bobbie says.
“Well, what are we having to eat?”
“Vegetarian Bolognese,”
“And what sort of wine?”
“Boxed?”
“….”
“I’m kidding,” Bobbie switches off the stove top. “There’s the red you brought two months ago, its still unopened,”
Joanne considers it. A glass of wine would be a positive, especially with a small child burning holes into the side of her face.
In the quiet, as Bobbie plates the pasta, Siobhan taps Joanne on the arm.
“Jo-anne,”
“Yes, Siobhan,”
“Why did you kiss auntie Ro?”
Bobbie drops a handful of forks, making a clatter. Joanne tries not to look ambushed. As well, she sees no reason to lie.
"Your… 'Auntie Ro' is my girlfriend.”
Siobhan nods wisely, as if this is what she’d anticipated. “Mommy calls Jeremy "baby" too. And Auntie Ro smiles at you a lot. A lot, a lot,"
“I know, pumpkin. Would you like juice?”
“Yes, I’m soo thirsty,” Siobhan says. She leans over the table and reaches for the centerpiece, a stack of candles, and begins moving them about in a mysterious, seemingly deliberate order, while Joanne stands. “Thank you, Jo-anne,”
Joanne opens the fridge to cool her face.
“Second shelf,” Bobbie’s voice instructs, and Joanne’s eyes zero in on a small bottle of apple juice. She takes it out and finds Bobbie placing a plastic cup down before her. “Here you go, Jo-anne,”
“Thank you, smiley,” Joanne shoots back, pouring while Bobbie, with a grin, brings two plates to the table.
Joanne has found the bottle of red wine when Bobbie returns to collect the final dish, overflowing with pasta - her own. Joanne pours two glasses, and then follows her girlfriend back to the table, where they sit and eat.
“How old is Siobhan?” Joanne asks. Bobbie looks toward the ceiling thoughtfully, before looking over the little girl who's already got a ring of bolognese sauce around her mouth.
“Six… No, seven,” Bobbie says with a charmingly brave finality.
“I’m five,” Siobhan says, spooning noodles.
After dinner, Bobbie turns off the TV, silencing the reruns of the same cartoon. Siobhan misses her mother, and as she asks Bobbie to call her on the phone, Joanne busies herself with filling the sink with soapy water in the other room. She does the dishes, half tuned in to the little girl's over-excited summary of her evening, the cryptic lore behind the amalgam of pictures and words that was her unfinished collage, the gentle static of her mother Samantha replying back, the world outside dark and quiet in Bobbie's neighborhood.
She doesn't see Bobbie's glances, facing the opposite way. Siobhan’s plate looks like a battlefield it’s so messy. It makes Joanne laugh to herself, her fingertips wrinkled.
By the time Joanne has finished the washing and wiped down the kitchen the two are not yet off the call with Bobbie's sister, and so Joanne goes to the bathroom across the apartment to have a short smoke. She would hate it if some woman kept looking over her shoulder during a private conversation, and so it seems like the right thing to do.
There, she feels looser after the wine, her belly full. Still, the high emotions of the day are snugly sat at her eyes like a headache.
There is so much that she is still worried about. It creeps around with her, the things she knows to be true. That something is bound to snap. The mere notion that it hasn't done so yet is almost nauseating.
Its just… She's too aware of what it's like to have to sustain on scarcity, on rainchecks and tomorrows. And she knows, it isn't enough. It certainly wasn't nearly enough for both of her ex-husbands.
So, she supposes she can't help but ask, how then is it enough for Bobbie? It's more than a little bit unfathomable.
Of course, Bobbie has never once held her job or hours against her. But, perhaps, in a small, secret way, Joanne feels like Bobbie should.
She drops her cigarette out the window, pulls the frame shut. Switches off the bathroom light, and then bumps right into Bobbie on her way out.
"Oh, sorry!" Bobbie grabs her waist to steady her, their breath mingling. "Sorry, are you okay?"
"Oh, um, yeah," Joanne murmurs.
She shivers as Bobbie's hands slide further along her hips. Glad to have her there, Joanne steps closer and wraps her own arms around her.
"Hey," Bobbie whispers. There's only a lamp on in the hallway, illuminating them in halves.
Joanne wants to snuggle deeper, and so she does. "Siobhan?"
"She's still on the phone," Bobbie keeps whispering. Her hands come up to smooth over her shoulder blades and back. "Um. Jo-Anne?"
Joanne rolls her eyes. She pulls herself away to come face to face with Bobbie, whose gaze is entirely open, entirely focused on her. Joanne feels that familiar coil of tension in her belly, helplessly unable to look anywhere else.
"I'm... really glad you came here tonight. I - I think I needed to see you, have you near me,"
Joanne's heart contracts with guilt. She closes her eyes. She takes it all back. She couldn't live with the notion of Bobbie turning into another bitter ex. Not when she is the sweetest, kindest thing in Joanne's life.
Bobbie cups her cheek. "I think you needed to see me, too. Is that right?"
"I always want to be near you,"
Bobbie is quiet, except for her soft, shocked inhale of breath, sweet from the wine. Her hand is warm and comforting. And, yes, she would be surprised by that, wouldn't she? With the way Joanne has been carrying on, one could only assume it was her looking for the break. She comes to realize how Bobbie must have been feeling, and this spurs her forward. She would never have said this before now, would have only felt it and tried to show it without words, and especially not first before Bobbie, but now she feels an intense need to tell her, to have her know,
"I'm very much in love with you," And, as she says this, Bobbie kisses her.
They fall a few steps backward, stumble into the bathroom. Bobbie is already breathing quicker, and she clasps Joanne's face in her hands, kicking the door behind them before taking another kiss. She pulls Joanne in, leaving no space between them.
They rest against the hard door, and in the darkness, Joanne ducks her head and mouths along the thundering line of Bobbie's throat.
"Bobbie,"
"Yes,"
Joanne slips a knee between Bobbie's thighs, pressing in closer. She's so aroused she's dizzy.
"Jesus, Bobbie, can I - "
"Please, please,"
Then, Bobbie bites down on her knuckles to stop a moan from being heard across the city, as Joanne fucks her throat with her lips and tongue. She rocks against Joanne's thigh, whimpering desperately against her own hand. She’s shameless in her wanton display - she doesn’t shy away from her own need. For this, Joanne has always envied Bobbie.
Joanne is melting between her own legs, feeling Bobbie writhe and thrash, feeling so much love it could completely distract from further unraveling her. Urgently, she takes Bobbie's hand away to kiss her again. Their mouths meet over and over and over, kisses blending into the next.
Joanne is kneeling to the floor when they both register Siobhan crying in big, gulping wails, the sound immediately snapping the tension between them. Joanne's whole body startles, her chest clenching painfully.
Bobbie scrambles to help Joanne back up, whose legs are like jelly after coming so close to eating Bobbie out for the first time since nearly a month ago.
"Shit, Siobhan," Bobbie says, and then says the child's name a little louder as they exit the bathroom together and hurry down the hall.
Siobhan opens her arms when Bobbie appears in front of her, and Joanne steps back to watch Bobbie lift her up off the couch into a protective cradle.
"What's happened to you, pumpkin?" Bobbie asks, clearly in a panic.
Siobhan cries anew, burying her blonde-ginger head into the crook of Bobbie's shoulder.
Bobbie turns on her heel and looks to Joanne with wide, alarmed eyes.
Joanne moves forward on instinct. She pets Siobhan's head, rests an arm around Bobbie's waist.
"Just breathe," Joanne tells Bobbie, and then takes a deep breath herself. Bobbie mimics her, still very visibly freaking out. But she seems to understand that her levelheadedness - and lack of - has an effect on Siobhan, and she is already making game efforts to reign herself in, gazing back at Joanne over the crying child’s head for support. Joanne nods once.
"In, and out," Joanne murmurs, impressed by Bobbie’s wherewithal. "Its alright, now,"
The deep breathing works on Bobbie, and after being comforted by the two of them, Siobhan's wailing shrinks into manageable hiccuping.
"Siobhan?" Joanne questions, and watches in surprise as she lifts her head and rubs her eyes.
"What happened to make you cry so, pumpkin?"
Siobhan's lip wobbles as she speaks, "Mommy left the phone,"
"Oh, my poor duckie," Bobbie lets out a huge, relieved breath of air. "Mommy will be home super early tomorrow, you’ll see her very soon,"
"But - but she left the phone before I could tell her and Jeremy good night," Siobhan explains, sounding incredibly saddened that it breaks Joanne's heart.
"Nuh-uh," Joanne murmurs quietly. Siobhan lifts her watery gaze to her. Here, Joanne sees a small piece of Bobbie in the color of them. She continues with absolute certainty, "They heard you say good night, Siobhan. Because you said it with your heart,"
"No," Siobhan whines, but appears open to being further convinced.
"They told me so," Joanne adds, and it's just the right thing to say.
"...They did? Th-they heard me? In my heart?" And she speaks in the same way Joanne does, as quiet as her.
"Yes, pumpkin," Joanne reassures her, looking up into Bobbie's eyes.
"Auntie Ro?"
"Mommy heard you," Bobbie tells Siobhan, and finally she calms completely. The last of her tragedy leaves her limbs loose like a Marinette cut from its strings.
Siobhan reaches for Joanne, who carefully gathers her from Bobbie's arms after a second's hesitation.
"She was exhausted," Bobbie says, arms around herself as she watches Joanne pull a blanket over Siobhan on the couch. She'd fallen deeply asleep minutes after her crying had ended.
"Yea," Joanne agrees. She brushes hair from the little girl's face before straightening. She can feel Bobbie's eyes on her still.
"You're great with kids," Bobbie isn't surprised at all.
Joanne turns to her and smiles. Weary, jittery, in love. "She adores you,"
"I'm the cool aunt," Bobbie says, smiling too, now. Something dawns on Bobbie’s face and Joanne steels herself for it. "Oh, my god, you're the hot babysitter,"
Joanne laughs out loud.
In a big cotton t-shirt and a pair of tiny shorts, Joanne sits down on the edge of Bobbie's bed. Heat gathers at the back of her neck as Bobbie kneels on the floor in front of her.
Bobbie looks her over, filling her gaze with every inch of her. Its a quiet sort of agony.
"I was surprised when you arrived, earlier this evening." Bobbie tells her. Her eyes are completely soft, but Joanne subtly pulls back.
"What?" Joanne whispers, struggling not to fear the worst.
"I just wasn't expecting it. You were especially beautiful, I wanted to take you into my arms and kiss the senses out of you." Bobbie whispers back. She's blinking, reliving the memory at Joanne's feet. "Even though you looked like a ghost. Like you came expecting me to turn you away."
"I was," Joanne murmurs. That feeling is still here, visceral, as Joanne remembers the state she’d been in when she’d first arrived. “I - I thought you were over all… of this,”
“Hmm?”
“Me. Never home, never there for you, always working,” Joanne whispers, suddenly speaking, through a fist around her throat, the words that her two ex husbands had armed her with. “Just… Me,”
"'Never there for me,'" Bobbie repeats. Joanne watches her shake her head with not a little bit of confusion. "Joanne, did you know I'm very much in love with you, too?"
"I just want you to be happy," Joanne rasps. "And sometimes, I feel like... with me,"
"Listen to me, Jo; you're it for me, for as long as you will have me. I'm your's."
"What are you saying?"
"...Just that. The truth. If I see you once a year it'll be -"
"No. Shush," She can't bear that word from Bobbie right now. "It won't be enough. I need to see you more. I can't keep coping like this,"
Bobbie's eyes fill with tears.
There it is. She knew it wasn't enough for Bobbie either.
"...What will we do?"
"Move in with me," Bobbie tells her. On her knees, she kisses Joanne's knuckles just as she had in the kitchen. "I mean. We can talk about it. I dont want to rush you into anything. But… Would you? I could relive this day over and over."
Yes. Yes she feels the same way.
"I like having dinner with you,"
"I do, too," Could they really, just… be together?
"I like seeing you fresh out of the shower, smelling like you dumped my entire shampoo bottle on your head,"
Joanne huffs out a tiny laugh. "You do?"
“Yeah. I do. You want me to be happy?” Bobbie whispers, and the small tonal shift catches Joanne off guard. "Like, really happy?"
“Yes,” She breathes.
“Then lean back," Bobbie looks up at her, and all the air in Joanne’s lungs escapes her in a whoosh. "And open your legs for me,"
And, damn, already aching, Joanne does it. She parts her thighs. Bobbie’s eyes trail her body, and it’s like a physical touch.
As far as she can manage, Joanne opens herself, and in the end she settles backward on Bobbie’s bed.
“That’s it,” Bobbie encourages. “Keep them open. Watch me,” She tells her.
So, Joanne watches, suddenly unable to speak. Slowly, Bobbie kisses her knee. Joanne's back archs gently, and she begins to hear her own breathing, the roaring in her head, over the sounds of traffic outside.
Bobbie moves in closer, pulls her pajamas to the side, and caresses the length of Joanne’s silk-covered center with her knuckle. It's a just barely there pressure that sets all of Joanne's senses on high. Bobbie sighs, looking up at her, as Joanne trembles beneath her hand. She's still wet from earlier this evening. Bobbie's eyes seem to say, me too.
It takes all her strength not to slip her eyes shut. She feels Bobbie moving her hand so that she's cupping her, her finger tips massaging into her mons. Joanne sucks in a ragged breath. She's rougher with her thumb, coaxing out a desperate sounding mewl from the woman above her. Bobbie, gaze half-lidded, brushes over her again and again, never speeding up like she needs her to.
Joanne can only grab the sheets and hold on.
"Good girl," Bobbie says, her voice dark and low. At the sound of it, the tingle of it down her spine, between her legs, Joanne feels herself falling further apart, opening wider. Her head falls backward. "That's it,"
"Fuck," she says to the ceiling.
Then, lips and tongue slither up the inside of her thigh. She shudders when Bobbie pulls back just before she finds her center, and then she's scrambling to push her underwear and shorts off with her, their hands bumping against each other, feeling clumsy with desire.
"Oh God, I need to do this," Bobbie says, her breathing coming out quick and shallow. Joanne nods, kicking off her clothes.
"Do it, do it, please," She barely has time to lay back again before Bobbie is on her, spreading her wetness with her hand and then licking and sucking her into her mouth. Bobbie takes all of her in.
Joanne wails, and only just remembers herself, muffling her mouth with both hands. The pleasure is sharp and burns through her, and it escalates when Bobbie begins using the flat of her tongue against her, lapping her up slowly, her nose rubbing against Joanne's hair as they come closer and closer.
It's almost too much. Too warm. Joanne fucks her hips into Bobbie's mouth, feels her moaning harshly and humming against her and it damn nearly sets her cross-eyed. Bobbie reaches for her breast and kneads it, and, fuck. The in-tandem sensations pull Joanne's head back, her eyes squeezing shut, her mouth falling open in a silent scream.
Her orgasm sweeps down on her so hard and so quick she couldn't have stopped it if she'd put her whole life into it. She feels Bobbie sob against her as she shouts into her hand, drinking her up like a starved woman.
Like something's snapped, Joanne melts moments later into a human puddle, her heart beat pounding between her legs amidst the aftershocks. She just manages to open her eyes as Bobbie finds her lips.
Her face is soaked. Joanne groans and grabs the sides of her head, keeping her close, kissing her again and again. Neither care about the mess, or the stickiness, and they are tangled together good when they slowly come apart.
"You did so good," Bobbie tells her, sounding drunk with it. Joanne has to close her eyes against another flare of arousal. "You taste so fucking good,"
Joanne moans softly and bites her lip as Bobbie skims up her shirt, her fingers hot against her skin, and together they slip it off. Then, Bobbie drags her mouth along Joanne's softly wrinkled chest, flicking out her devastating tongue, before taking a nipple in-between her teeth. Joanne gasps and rears up, pushing her chest further into Bobbie's embrace, ready once more.
Bobbies hands take hold of her chest. She presses her breasts together, running her mouth back and forth between them, her eyes shut in complete bliss.
Seeing stars, Joanne holds onto the back of Bobbie's head. "Yes, just like that, baby," and Bobbie whimpers so weakly that she keeps speaking, sounding less and less like herself.
"Fuck, it's good, feels so good. I want you in my mouth, inside me,"
"God, Joanne, I'm so..." Bobbie tries to articulate.
"I know you are," She does know. Bobbie is practically buzzing, her eyes glazed.
Something to do about it, Joanne flexes her leg between Bobbie's thighs, enthralled as Bobbie cries out against her heart. She begins moving her hips, desperation making her unfiltered, her mouth losing its rhythm at her chest. Joanne doesn't mind. She seeks Bobbie's orgasm as much as her own. She writhes up into her, as Bobbie thrusts down, burying her face in Joanne's neck.
"Come, here. Up here," Joanne tugs Bobbie further up her body, urging her to sit on her face.
"Ok," Bobbie says dizzily. "Jesus, Jo, you're so hot,"
Heart pounding, Joanne shifts underneath her, listening to Bobbie breath deeply as she lines her mouth up.
"Oh, yes," Bobbie whimpers a cry. Her hands grasp the wall, and soon, Bobbie presses her cheek against it as well.
She could spend the rest of her life here, Joanne thinks, before focusing entirely on her tasks.
The curtains have been pulled and the room is dark, except for the line of light that sneaks through around the edges. Bobbie wakes up slowly, and when she moves to reach across the blankets in search of Joanne, her muscles ache.
The other side of the bed is empty. Assuming Joanne had slipped out without waking her, never wanting to disturb Bobbie's sleep even when she totally could, Bobbie sits up to look blearily about her bedroom, feeling like a different woman. Her phone lights up on the night stand, and there Bobbie realizes she's slept in super late. Siobhan is definitely awake by now, probably has been for hours.
Bobbie jumps out of bed and dresses in a hurry, pulling on clothes without looking at them first. She opens her door, about to rush into the living room convinced that Siobhan has found the scissors, or has tried to make toast and electrocuted herself, or any other wild irrationality.
But, no. Siobhan is sitting in the couch, listening to Joanne, sitting next to her, read out loud. It's Siobhan's book from her school bag open in Joanne's lap, and Joanne's docile tones filling the room. Bobbie takes a moment to fully take in what she's seeing.
"Jo-anne," Siobhan says, and taps her arm. Joanne pauses to look at her.
"Hmm?"
"Do you love auntie Ro?"
"Yes, very much." Joanne's voice is gentle.
"When you get married can I be the flower-girl? I still have my dress, it's at mommy's,"
"Sure you can. Lookit a kitty cat," Joanne points down at an illustration of a fuzzball.
Bobbie, who hadn't realized she was holding her breath, lets it go.
"Good morning you two,"
"Hi auntie Ro," Siobhan sits up, excited. The day has started, surely, she seems to say.
"Good morning," Joanne says. Bobbie can tell she is briefly startled by her sudden appearance beside them. "How did you sleep?"
"Best night of my life," Bobbie says quietly, enjoying the pink on Joanne's pretty face.
Bobbie joins them on the couch, giving Siobhan a hug. Over her head, Bobbie catches Joanne's eye. Joanne's expression is full of warmth and sincerity.
"By the way, just so you know, I do," Bobbie says, only half joking, and watches Joanne's smile grow with a huge heart.