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by some terrible, unfunny and unlaughable joke, sterling wesley and april stevens can’t escape each other. not even when they both graduated from high school, which practically meant tearing this page out of their lives. but you can't rip out what's sewn right into your heart. that would hurt so bad. more than being rejected and then kidnapped—all in one night. yeah?
sterling believes in fate. not the cheesy, nauseatingly sweet predestined soulmate kind they show in romcoms. but the cruel, unromantic kind that keeps dragging her to april. like a moth to a flame—a stupid moth without wings that can't even fly. college was supposed to be a new start—something to forget about the past, leave it all behind. which was not wesley’s thing. but worked more than fine for stevens. no more relentless control of april’s parents (except they still paid for her education. but she was on her own, at least.)
technically, stevens could be with whoever she wants. and wesley, too. but…
no .
fate’s a bitch without a sense of humor (maybe because it’s sterling’s fate? she definitely didn’t need to make dad jokes her whole personality.) now she’s stuck sharing the whole dorm (thank god not the room), those fucking showers with ugly curtains. with her... dream-nightmare- ex (was that a word for them? they weren’t even officially dating. were they? lots of kisses, lots of masturbation… well, probably only on sterling’s end. yep, definitely what you'd call a relationship.)
high school was wild. kissing in bible class… with their tongues! oh, she kinda misses bible classes. and spanish classes. and a( pril ) — she's just sentimental about growing up. no more school, no more blair by her side and her stupid jokes (though they still facetime each other every fucking minute. sterling’s just being dramatic.)
sterling still doesn’t know why they was so ignorant to each other. nobody controlled every aspect of april’s life anymore. and sterling knew she’d jump right into her arms (and bed) if she said something other than “ wesley ” at least once.
sterling was good at forgiving. she’d been lied to her whole life. and? week—months—well, almost a year of resentment and anger and everything turned into “it’s not that bad.” she didn’t run away from that. she faced it first, and then ran away. but april only did the latter.
but it’s not that bad, since sterling— kind of — moved on. if moving on means dating a string of girls who all inexplicably reminded her of A.S.—her green eyes and sharp tongue. their tongues weren’t that sharp. oh, only if she knew what april’s felt like…
the dorm showers? that’s where fate really likes to twist the knife. cramped, stuffy and shared . the exact opposite of wesley’s lab-clean white bathrooms sterling grew up in. she hates them. the always wet tiles, sound of flip flops slapping against them, the way curtains tickle her legs. and it’s almost always cold in here! but she doesn’t hate the fact that she keeps running into april in here. maybe a little. less than everything else. at least, it’s extra hot here after her.
fate. fate . fuck.
sterling overused and overblamed this word. even though she’s the reason they both keep meeting here. she memorized april’s schedule (as if it was soooo hard). april’s still a control freak. and sterling would lie to herself, saying she didn’t find it hot. every damn morning—7:45–before it gets too clouded with hot fog; every night at 10:00 or 10:10–because she loved round numbers—when there weren't many people here. sterling tells herself it’s just a habit, not obsession. stepping into the stall april just stepped out of. the air is still warm, steam still smells like april . a faint hint of citrus from her shampoo. sterling hates citrus because she was allergic to it as a child. and citrus syrup in candy smells like soap.
she loves it when it’s april’s.
that’s why sterling took that tiny travel bottle of shampoo, when april first abandoned it. just an excuse to… talk to her, to give it back? but for some reason it stayed stashed in her drawer. probably just forgot. and never actually opened it, catching the lingering smell of april. if only her whole room smelled like that…
the condensation was still dripping down the warm tiles. those walls saw more than sterling ever will. more than she could ever imagine. well, she did… imagined a lot of things, some of them were way worse than just naked april. but still.
next time she left a black hairband, which sterling now wears on her wrist. not weird at all , she keeps telling herself. who will notice, anyway? only april. probably. maybe. ten percent is still a lot! and sterling could swear: she’s not going insane. she catches april’s gaze in the cafeteria, but she looks away faster than wesley’s silly brain can register it.
april stevens doesn't forget things. this type-a nerd who color-coded her notes and probably still does. she’s not the short-brained girl who forgets her shampoo because she’s late for class. she’s never late! this makes sterling’s stomach hurt. and it's definitely not gastritis. april plays with her. leaving a bait, and sterling’s a fish.
and she wonders why.
april still loves her? no, it’s… too much. april still thinks about her? definitely. it’s so april stevens coded—leaving some stuff on the edge of the sink, because she knows sterling will find it. there’s only two fuckers who shower this late, at the exact same time.
the shampoo, the hairband, the… toothbrush? sterling definitely returns this one. not before she draws her finger on the still-wet brush. probably just out of april’s mouth… no, why the fuck is she even thinking about it? weirdooo. her cheeks burn. so does her shoulder. the very spot where april’s fingers gripped around once. after that fucking debate. the day she discovered what orgasm was.
she makes the most intense eye contact with the toothbrush. like it has a piece of april’s soul in it. or her intense gaze.
she shouldn’t have done it. let herself taste mint and april and something unhinged inside on every fucking bristle. she’s not the sterling who blushed after saying the f-word. lord help her. but she starts to think he’s not here anymore. she hopes he’s not watching what one of his children does in this moldy bathroom. she’s not a fan of having viewers. she’s truly pathetic. just to feel close to a girl who once broke her heart. but here she was—gripping the handle and edge of the sink so tight her knuckles turned white. wondering what it’d be like to feel april real again. not just echoes and leftovers she gives to her poor admirer.
and april wonders too. every time she leaves something for sterling. wonders what she will do with all that. she’s seen sterling wearing her hairband, twirling it around her wrist and fingers in the dining hall like it’s nothing. it’s not nothing . it’s april’s. and sterling wants it too. to be april’s. be this close to her.
she wondered about the toothbrush the most. imagined sterling picking it up, her glossy eyes and red cheeks as she inspects it. maybe—god forgive her, maybe do something reckless with it. something only sterling would do. this makes her stomach flip in the way she’ll never say out loud (obviously not because she’ll never say anything like that about a girl . only in her ear. as quiet as she can.)
she’s never oblivious to anything. especially if this anything happens right under her nose. sterling watches her, lingers in places she’s been. it’s flattering. it’s annoying. so very sterling. it’s the closest they’ve come to talking about what happened since high school ended.
it’s the day when her patience comes to an end. it’s the game she played—shampoo, hairband, that fucking toothbrush—watching sterling snap it up like a starving puppy. but it turned against her. she knows sterling is still there . and only god knows how bad she wants to catch her in the act. in the act of what? she hopes not something that will make her forget her vast vocabulary. because sterling is still thirsty for her sharp tongue. it’s pretty obvious.
it’s sterling’s shower time. more specifically, the time she wraps in a robe and dries her hair. 11:03. well, she can be observant too! april doesn’t know what she’ll do when she opens the door. yell? wesley would probably get off on it, fucking pervert. kiss her? fuck, even worse—april might not stop. pretend it’s all a coincidence? ask her toothbrush back?
what she does not expect to see is sterling—with april’s toothbrush—in her mouth. bristles against her mouth and lips, like she’s savoring it. it takes two seconds before sterling coughs, chokes, drops it into the sink and turns to april. with that stupid smile she uses when things get awkward. the one that says i’m fucked up, but i’m cute, right? every fucking second of her life, exactly.
“you forgot your—“ sterling sounds like a… god, april can’t even find a word, gesturing at the sink with her shaking hands. stammering? pathetic? caught in the act of god knows what?
“don’t remember forgetting anything in your mouth .” april’s voice cuts through—stern as fuck—just what makes sterling breath catch in her throat. so bad it’s hard not to notice. but it’s kind of flirty, right? or maybe sterling is this perverted. maybe it’s hot. april hates that she notices.
“uh, i was just—“ sterling tries, really tries, pointing at that poor toothbrush like it’s going to explain everything for her. will she ever finish at least one sentence today? april doubts.
“just what?” april steps closer, hands crossed over her chest. like they’re still in high school. like april’s the local bully, who’s anger directed towards only one person. like she’s a closeted gay who fears the word faggot more than fire. like she's bullying someone she wouldn't mind pinning to the sink right now. “checking on my dental hygiene? that’s pretty weird. even for you.”
sterling chews on her lower lip. and guess where april’s gaze lands? “it’s not like that,” she says too fast, april can barely catch on. thank god it wasn’t her intention to listen. she’s too busy watching sterling squirm. “i mean… you're the one leaving your stuff all over the bathroom!” she snaps—stutters, in her own desperate way.
april raises an eyebrow, that small smile threading to form under the unmoving face muscles. “oh, so it’s my fault?” she knows it is. she also knows she's got sterling cornered. “you’re the one tonguing my toothbrush like it's a lollipop, wesley!” it’s venomous, yet still teasing. makes sterling’s face flushed a shade of red that should be illegal.
“i wasn’t—“ her voice falls. she doesn’t really know what to say. sterling wesley is a weirdo written all over her forehead. she was. was tonguing it like a fucking lollipop, and what? it’s april’s fault for leaving it here. for leaving sterling!
“you was. and you’re a creep.” april’s voice lacks this thighs-clenching venom this time. it’s a whisper—quiet and almost sweet in its own twisted way. she steps closer, too close for sterling to keep breathing. she can smell sterling’s shampoo—not her citrus . something sweet, too sweet, like gummies? some pink things made of sugar? april always found the strangest descriptions for things. “you gonna tell me why? or do i have to guess?” her voice drops to a deep whisper, and its dizzying. almost tickling sterling’s face like a feather.
those shiny blue eyes darting everywhere but the face in front of her. like ceiling is way more entertaining than april, whose hands now resting on the sink on either side of sterling’s hips. “you know why.” she says, quietly. it’s the most honest thing she’s said all night. and the only thing she said without stuttering.
april knows why. since the first time she “accidentally” left her shampoo bottle for sterling to take it like a prize. it’s the reason her heart is trying to escape the cage of her ribs right now. torn between making sterling shut up, or making her talk. fate’s a bitch, but can you really blame something nonexistent in the things they keep choosing?
“say it,” april demands, hungry, daring. “use your words. like a good girl.” is it too far to call her that? maybe. but april couldn't miss an opportunity like this! sterling’s eyes widen, pupil’s dilated, lips parting, like begging for something. begging for april to taste them. to taste her own mint on sterling’s tongue.
good girl . sterling can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t— “because it’s you.” she indeed feels like a creep, but a little smile on april’s face encourages her to keep going. “i just wanted to… feel .”
that’s her sterling. the good old sterling. who folds the second april opens her mouth. her hands twitch against the sink, palms itching to feel the skin instead of cold porcelain. maybe she’s just sentimental, chasing the ghost of their school days, whatever doomed, beautiful thing they had.
april doesn’t care what they have now. doesn’t care about all missed opportunities because in the end their bitchy fate will always keep them together. just like that. she leans closer, slow enough for sterling to feel her breath on her lips. slow enough for sterling to push her away. but she never does. “to feel what exactly?”
sterling read somewhere that actions speak louder than any words ever could. probably one of blair’s stupid magazines full of philosophy, shirtless guys, and fucking brownie recipes. of course it was blair's. so all the blame is on her.
her lips covers april’s, gently, likes she’s scared that it’s her imagination and none of it’s real. like april could just disappear right under sterling’s hands, which now sliding to her waist, pulling her closer. shes bolder than april remembers her. she’s hungry—hard not to notice something that’ been building for years.
april doesn’t push her away. doesn’t tease or demand more words. cheesy line from the magazine was right. now april’s tongue traces her lower lip, tasting the faint mint from her— well… she can actually forgive sterling for being a freak. but it’s too funny to forget.
her thumb brushed sterling’s chin, slowly pushing it down. lower lip trembles under her teeth—sharp as her tongue. she's not so shy about biting like they're fighting. almost makes sterling whine. almost .
not just almost , when april pushes her tongue inside, as if exploring her mouth for the first time. it’s an audible whine, maybe too audible for the dorm's thin walls. but what fun is it if you can't be caught in committing new sins?
april looks more than satisfied as she pulls away. doesn't even try to hide her smile behind the pressed lips. there’s just something so precious in sterling’s glassy blue eyes, running across the other’s face. she wants to say something, but her tongue feels too heavy to be in her mouth. she knows who’s mouth it fits in better. but the only thing she gets is a finger on her reddened lips, as she leans to get another kiss.
“not so fast.” fucking stevens. teasing this poor puddle in her hands. how cruel! but thank god sterling’s full name is not subling patheticesley anymore (well. ten percent less. but this still counts.)
she’s really, really bolder now. slapping april’s hand away, pulling her even closer, and april finally lifts her hips, showing sterling onto the sink’s edge. her robe rides up, and april’s gonna blame fate again. because she obviously wouldn’t push it herself, just to get her hands on sterling’s hips. nah. not her style.
“not so fast?” sterling is trying to be the tease, but her voice comes out as a strained whisper. it’s not really fast if both of them were waiting for years . sterling’s hips trying to push together. on it’s own, really. and april doesn’t even need a bit of her strength to prevent that.
“coaches don't play by their own rules.” it’s the first time sterling hears that silly little giggle since high school. and can you really blame her if it makes her legs shake a little bit more? sitting on the sink is not the most comfortable position! so wrapping her legs around april’s waist is not a choice—it’s survival. but digging her heel into april’s lower back? that’s a choice. the best choice of her life. because their bodies almost melted into one.
her hips twitch forward on their own, chasing the nonexistent friction. begging for it. april’s hand wanders, hot on her thigh, moving up and down, but never where sterling needs her the most. her inner voice turns into a melody of pleasepleaseplease, but she’s not voicing it out loud. not yet.
“you want our first time to be in a musty bathroom?” april whispers in her ear. it’s more of a rhetorical question. because neither of them gives a fuck about where s and how s.
“what if it’s the only chance?” sterling murmurs, shaky and breathless. and she got a point in her pathetic inaudible speech. after april broke her heart once. then showed up again but didn’t even try to… at least, talk ? and if what they started today will end right here? she’s fine with it. as long as they intend to finish.
her whine sounds extra whiney and sad. aw, maybe april needs to soothe that pain? she runs a finger along the length, collecting all the wetness on her fingertip. sterling is not even trying to be quiet with her fuck s . april finds it cute. as cute as sterling’s expression, when she pulls her finger away, running it on her lower lip instead. and sterling already opens her mouth. now it’s april’s turn to say fuck .
“good.” but no girl this time. thought sterling definitely deserves it. moans so sweetly, tongue curling against april’s finger, tasting herself. every sound is muffled. isn’t this just sweet ? when she releases april’s finger with a slick pop. she’s a vision—lips shiny, eyes glassy, and april can’t wait anymore. she totally deserves a deep kiss. yeah. not like april is just dying to taste sterling on her tongue too.
their lips crash together, more messy and less sweet this time, chasing everything they can get, everything they can give. minty, sweet and salty. april can’t hold her half-groan, half-moan inside her throat anymore. sterling’s legs tighter around april, pushing her hips even closer than possible.
“say it.” april finds it hot—making sterling all desperate and needy. no matter how much she wants to give her everything. she needs to ask first, right? “tell me what you want.” her fingers hover, brushing her clit feather-light, making sterling’s hips buck. poor dorm’s sink... probably won’t survive this shame.
“please.” she finally voices it. not like she have much self-respect or keep it in her head for too long. “fuck me. april, please, just—“ a broken little whine against april’s mouth, and her head slowly falls to rest on her shoulder. she really want to be that pathetic?
“weirdo. i didn’t even ask you to beg .”
but april wants to do everything for that pleaseaprilfuckme . like giving her every toothbrush that ever was her mouth, or whatever sterling’s into lately. speaking of—it’s still in the sink? sterling better not forget to snatch it too.
“but since you asked so nicely,” april murmurs, and this time, she just can’t deny her girl . her girl? what’s next? they move in together and get a cat after that? probably not . april doesn’t make her wait any longer, finally giving sterling the friction she was begging for. circling her clit, teasing, gently pinching it between her fingers. just because wesley made the most beautiful, high pitched whines from this.
she needs to— “ fuck .” another one, as her head tips back. but it won’t do. eye contact is the most important thing. trust and shit, right? so april threads her free fingers in sterling’s hair—so soft and gentle—like petting a kitten. sterling practically purrs, melting.
“can you look at me, please?” aprils says, like it's not an order. she pulls her hair a little too hard, making sterling keep her head straight. half-lidded eyes, shiny from… gentleness of this all, of course. from april’s fingers, her skilled touch. she needs more . always does.
“i need you—inside. please?” oh, she definitely deserves a thousand of good girls in one breath. sitting there, waiting so patiently, clenching around nothing. april’s finger moves down, but doesn’t hurry to push inside. just… staying here, touching like a feather.
“what’s now?” it’s even more pitiful, too desperate even for sterling. her hips rock forward, chasing april’s fingers, as she gives her nothing.
“nothing. you’re just too sweet like this.” april giggles. her gaze moves lower. and what if she breaks her rules about eye contact? coaches don't play by their own rules. she just needs to see. to see how her finger slips inside; how sterling’s already clenching around her.
“another one?” poor baby sterling. nods her head so hard april's afraid it's gonna fall off. okay, she’ll survive without “ say it ” this time. she adds a second finger, curling them up. and she swears on her life—she never heard sounds more sweet than sterling’s mewls and moans. please-please-don’t-stop-april-please .
sterling’s legs feel so limp around april’s waist. can’t even pull her closer, can’t even meet april’s thrusts the way she wants. but she’s trying her best! such a good girl—lets the whole floor know about how good april is with her fingers. what a pleasure for april-definitely-not-a-lesbian-stevens. but they’re not in high school anymore, they can actually do whatever they want. fuck. a lot.
“quiet.” stevens’ infamous stern and rough voice definitely didn’t help. so did her thumb, moving over sterling’s clit again. back and forth, with more pressure, matching the path of her thrusts and curls. sterling’s unraveling fast—too fast—body shaking, breath hitching in sharp little gasps. april’s hand in her hair tightens, keeping her steady, keeping those glassy eyes on her face. even if april herself is looking down.
“don’t you dare look away.” it’s cruel. april is very—too observant with her side vision. thrusting a little harder, and it feels a little punishing.
“can’t—i can’t.” sterling sounds stupid, stuttering, trying to keep her glassy eyes on april. she nods—barely—she’s not the type to argue. debating with stevens is a lost cause. her whines turn sharp, needy and high-pitched. and april’s committing every sound to memory, etching them into her brain like a permanent track.
“please, i really can’t—let me—“
“did i ever say you can’t cum?”
and sterling feels really stupid. smile grows bigger with every deep moan. maybe she just really loves being pathetic .
“ gosh .” sterling breathes. how fucked up is it to use lord’s name with april’s fingers knuckle deep inside? pumping slow now, in and out, curling just right. it fills the whole bathroom with their wet sounds. matching the way april fills her— completely . “come on, weirdo, cum for me.” she murmurs, softer but still commanding.
sterling clenches hard, hips jolting with every slow thrust, so april’s other hand slips out of her hair, pressing down on her thigh instead, pinning her to the sink. thank god for april’s obsession with being number one—gym class included. it’s april’s strength, sternness, her relentless need for control and, of course, her fingers that move with agonizing path. oh, and sterling’s desperation, years of wanting, of thinking april hated her, wished her dead, when really it was this. always this.
april slows even more, drawing it out. her thrusts turns into a deep, steady rhythm, fingers curling just right, brushing that spot that makes sterling’s breath hitch and hold. she can feel it in her stomach—a knot of heat and ache, longing even. because it’s not just about the best orgasm of her life, but april. april, who wants her as bad as she does. even if it’s just for now. it’s more than she ever thought she’d get again.
“april—” It’s a whisper, a prayer, april’s favorite sound ever. her fingers don’t stop, pushing her to the edge slowly. sterling’s breath catches, holds, and then she’s falling—sharp, beautiful—her whole body tightening as the orgasm rolls through.
she scratches the back of april’s neck with short nails, shaking hands failing to pull her closer. but april already knows—she’s leaning for another kiss, swallowing all those sweet, broken sounds. every slide of her fingers elicits a moan, closer to a sob. she moves a finger against sterling’s clit—gentler than ever, giving her trembling body one last shudder.
the kiss turns messy, sloppy, breathless, all teeth and tongues and shared air. april’s fingers stay a little longer, resting inside, savoring the warmth, before slipping out with another soft, wet sound. and a tired huff from sterling’s lips.
she feels everything—all at once—april’s warm breath on her lips, rough sink against her soft skin, the ache in her thighs after everything april gave her. but more than ever, she feels april. not just leftovers of her attention, some stolen things and meaningless glances in the dining hall.
april’s right hand glistening in the flickering faint light of the bathroom. what a shame sterling is too boneless and fucked out to do anything about it—to lean forward and lick it clean. it’d be fun. poor thing, slumping her head against april’s shoulder again. other hand threads in soft hair again, soothing all the previous pulling, tracing soft patterns against her scalp.
“ good girl .” april can’t forget about the teasing. especially when it makes sterling mewl so sweetly. sterling is too weak for this, april knows.
“fuck you.” sterling mumbles, horse and still breathless, but there’s no heat in it. she’s the head enjoyer of all the good girls april’s tongue delivers. “you’re next.” it’s supposed to be a threat, or a promise. but judging by the slowing breath on her neck… april only smiles. she’s obviously next. maybe if sterling regains the feeling of her limbs tonight.