Chapter Text
The curiosity blossoms when Mel is warm from alcohol and good company.
It's Saturday and she's huddled into a corner booth of a bar downtown, knees pressed to the corner of the leather in a position that makes it look like she's ready to flee at a moment's notice. Half habit, half because when she first got here, she did have to swallow the urge to scurry back to the safe seclusion of her car.
But, she's been here for two hours now, and she feels pleasant. Floaty. She has earplugs stuffed into her ears and she's nursing her second drink of the night—something simple, a little fruity and entirely Whitaker's suggestion for her drink of choice. She isn't worried about Becca because she's on a trip, and she's nestled into the quietest corner of the place with her colleagues, and she feels good.
The lights of the bar are muted, soft from years of use and casting everything in shifting shadows. The conversation happening around her has faded into a lively hum, barely discernible to her muffled ears and the alcohol swimming in her veins, but she makes out a few things here and there—mostly Mohan's soft, probing questions and Garcia's disgruntled features.
“If it’s something you want, why not pursue someone here?” Samira asks. Her head is trapped between a shake and a nod, entirely amused. The woman’s face is flushed and more lax than it was when they first arrived. Getting her to come out after work was a feat in and of itself, Mel remembers Dana whispering as Samira approached the table at the beginning of the night, but Mel is just happy there’s another person here who is more of a listener than a talker; it makes her feel reassured, somehow.
"No one here is hot enough," Garcia’s tutting. Her dark eyes are roving against the crowd around them, a throng of people heavy with the promise of the weekend. Her mouth is tilted into a thin line as she swirls her drink around the table. Mel watches as the ring of condensation swipes against the grain of the wood.
"You need supermodel level to get your rocks off?" Dana chortles. "Don't be a baby, you don't have to love her."
McKay hums her approval from Mel's elbow. Herself, the older woman, and Whitaker are all nearly elbow-to-elbow in the booth facing the door. There's ample room for all three of them, made even more so by Mel's refusal to scoot any closer to the middle so as to not crush her arms against McKay's.
Garcia fixes the nurse with a stern look. "I do still have self-respect."
"Garcia's right," Collins chirps. She nods and murmurs against her drink. "I wouldn't take anyone here home either." She wrinkles her nose. "There's an odd smell in here. That's never appealing."
Trinity groans from the innermost corner of the booth, shoulder pressed firmly to the wall. Mel startles at the interruption, the low vibration of the noise striking cleanly through her earplugs. Trinity bangs her head back against the leather of the seat as she scoots her body downwards, legs splaying underneath the table. Mel feels the material of the girl’s shoe brush against the slender skin of her ankle.
“It’s not fair,” she says to the ceiling. Mel tunes back into the throes of conversation, fingers spread against the coolness of her glass. Trinity’s hair is down tonight, dark strands sloping down the stretched out flesh of her throat. Mel watches the words form behind the skin as she continues. “I need to get laid too. It’s been too long. I think I might shrivel up and die.”
“What a shame that would be,” Garcia deadpans. Her gaze is focused somewhere over Mel’s shoulder and to the left, eyes twinkling in the dimly lit corner. Trinity kicks her feet out and pouts.
“I barely remember what it’s like going down on a lady,” she whines. Blinks up at the ceiling, arms outstretched as she wildly slaps her palms against the table in emphasis. “I think my memory’s going.”
Mel watches as Trinity sits back up and takes another swig of her drink, expanse of her pale skin shifting around her faux agony. It’s always a little odd to Mel, seeing her coworkers outside of scrubs and gloves, but Trinity looks nice tonight—emerald green button-up adorning her torso, a fitted pair of jeans that give way to a sensible pair of sneakers. Mel can still feel the warmth of her from how close Trinity’s legs are to her underneath the table, Mel’s knees stiff and still as if she were welcoming the intrusion in her personal space. Like she’s afraid to scare Trinity off. She watches as Trinity’s fingertips slip against the condensation pooled around the base of her glass.
“Whitaker gets more ass than me lately,” she continues mournfully. “And our walls are mad thin.”
Whitaker splutters from his spot crushed against the wall. Trinity had invited him, despite Garcia emphasizing that this was supposed to be a “girl’s night”, saying something about being afraid Whitaker would burn the house down if she left him alone. Mel didn’t think it was fully the truth; Trinity had fought against a smile as she said it.
A chorus of hoots and hollers is drowned out against Mel’s earplugs. She winces a little, but the distraction makes her feel safe enough to blurt out, “I’ve never had that happen to me before.”
An addition to the conversation between her colleagues at hand—her experience, or lack thereof lately, with sexual relationships. But Trinity makes a strangled sound from behind her glass, brows furrowed as she swallows her coughs down frantically. She resurfaces, wipes the stray liquid from her pink mouth. Her eyes swivel to Mel. They’re glossy in the bar lighting, face flushed from the alcohol.
“You’ve never been laid?”
Mel shakes her head. A simple curt gesture as her thick brows furrow. “No one has ever performed oral sex on me before.”
Trinity’s mouth gapes. She’s still staring, posture oddly still as her torso spills over the wooden table. Mel watches the chain around her neck dangle and catch the lighting above them. Stops her gaze before it can traverse further down the milky expanse of Trinity’s exposed chest.
“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Garcia hums. She slides out of the booth with her empty glass in hand and waltzes over to the bar. Mel can feel every remaining pair of eyes turn to her suddenly. She frowns, fiddles with the small umbrella nestled in her drink.
“Was that wrong to say?” Mel whispers. Fights against the urge to shy away, to huddle in on herself like a frightened animal.
Trinity blinks at her. Wet mouth open in astonishment. “Not wrong,” she finally manages. Voice rough like gravel falling out of her throat. “Sad, maybe. Probably a form of blasphemy.”
Mel’s shoulder twitches in a semblance of a shrug. Something stirs in her gut, mixes in with the alcohol there. “I was just wondering what it felt like.”
Dana hums from her elbow, eyes twinkling with unshed laughter. “You gotta lot to learn, kid.” she chuckles. Mel makes a noise from the back of her throat and turns back toward her drink, shame licking deep in her belly.
They stumble out of the bar a little after eleven—Garcia managed to flag a prospective fuck down for the night, and Samira offers to drive Collins and Dana home as the most sober of the three. Mel is fumbling with her phone outside of the bar’s entryway when she feels Trinity’s presence sidle up next to her.
Mel jumps, just a little. She’s still warm from the drinks, still a little embarrassed at her outburst from earlier. She gives Trinity a small smile that the other girl doesn't catch, gaze focused on a flickering lamp post from across the road.
“Giving you full permission to beat the daylights out of me before I ask you this,” she starts, words tumbling out of her quickly, “but was that an offer? Earlier?”
Mel blinks. Twists her phone in between her hands just to have something to do. She tugs Trinity’s question through her brain, mouth open around an answer she doesn’t have yet. Her first time was with a guy back in med school, when he was a warm body and she was maybe a little desperate to see if she could make herself feel anything for men and sex that she knew she was lacking compared to most of her peers. The last time had been with a girl, right before Mel had to stay settled for Becca, when she knew she liked sex and just didn’t like men.
It was easy, then. Enjoyable, for the most part; the girl had been soft and smelled good, but she touched Mel like she was afraid Mel would break. Mel had come with the girl’s fingers inside of her underneath her pants and her underwear like the girl was terrified to touch her and see her in any way that mattered.
Trinity’s openness earlier stirred something inside of her—she had been saying it out of curiosity mostly, but without multiple pairs of eyes on her, she realizes that there’s a truth buried in there somewhere. She wants something that easy again; wants to know what it feels like to be touched like she’s desired, even if it’s only pretend.
She turns her body a little closer to Trinity and knows she’s been quiet too long when the other girl is already looking at her, brows pinched in worry and hands leaving her pockets like she’s ready to fall back on her words.
“Maybe it was a little bit of a suggestion,” Mel offers honestly. She watches the terse line of Trinity’s shoulders relax at the broken silence. “I was only curious, but I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, Trinity, I really didn’t mean—”
Trinity splutters. Her breath leaves her in the form of wisps from the chilled night air. “Made me turned on as hell, Mel, jesus—” she grits out. “I just got done complaining about how long it’d been since I got laid, and then you—”
Trinity stops herself. Squares her jaw. Mel waits patiently for her to gather her words again, heartbeat quickening in her ears. She feels fuzzy underneath the fluorescent glow of the streetlamps, molten hot like it isn’t the bitter end of February.
Trinity turns to look at her but her gaze skitters over her face, never in one place for too long.
Mel swallows past a lump in her throat. Gently prods, “I’m down if you are?”
Trinity purses her lips. Her face is flushed a cherry red from the sharp cold. “It doesn't mean anything, alright?” she states. She holds a palm outwards in emphasis. “Just a means to an end. Still coworkers, still friends.”
Mel gives her an abrupt nod. She even mimes zipping up her mouth and throwing away an imaginary key to really drive it home. Trinity stares at her, something warm flashing in her eyes.
“Christ, let’s go,” she says, “before my fingers fall off. Then it wouldn't be fun for either of us.”
Trinity stands in the middle of Mel’s apartment like a ghost.
Mel can’t recall ever seeing her like this in the Pitt—like the girl is suddenly unsure of herself. Mel discards her jacket on the hook by the door, leaves her shoes in a neat little line underneath it. She watches as Trinity does the same, form shadowy and muddled from the darkness of Mel’s apartment, only illuminated in slivers from the moonlight that spills in from outside.
Mel’s words tumble out of her mouth, propelled from a simmering part of her stomach, “You looked really nice tonight.”
Trinity makes a wounded noise. Mel sees the blurry shake of her head. “You don’t have to—” she starts. Inhales a sharp breath. She’s close, closer than when she was when she followed Mel in, and Mel can smell her. Pine and something softer, subtler, like laundry detergent. “Don’t have to make this into something it isn’t. Where do you—?”
“Oh,” Mel mutters softly. She spins out of Trinity’s space and starts off down the hall towards her bedroom. She can hear the soft pad of Trinity following her and gestures an arm out to her room when they stop in front of the bed.
“Where the magic happens, eh?” Trinity chortles. She sobers up quickly, eyes dancing over Mel’s frame.
Mel doesn’t say anything. Propelled by the girl looking at her, she crosses her arms and tugs her blouse over her head and tosses it to the floor. Mel hears Trinity’s breath stutter, feels the air shift as Trinity rushes forward.
“Easy there,” Trinity laughs but it comes out strained. Mel blinks up at her, sees the blown pupils, the shininess to her wet mouth like she’d been gnawing at her lip. “We’ve got all night, alright? No need to rush. Gotta make it special for you, remember?”
The words send a sharp heat spiraling right to Mel’s abdomen. Trinity pushes further into her space, palms ghosting just above Mel’s arm before spreading across the expanse of flesh where her jaw meets her throat. Mel goes easily, lets Trinity pull her forward, and then she’s meeting the warm, wet heat of her mouth.
Trinity makes a soft noise from the back of her throat. She tastes like liquor, sharp and sweet and hot against Mel’s tongue. Mel dips her hands forward and grabs Trinity’s waist, clutches the silken fabric of her shirt between her knuckles. She steps backwards, knees bumping into her bed before Trinity’s folding them over onto the mattress at the same time as she licks at the seam of Mel’s mouth. It’s soft, at first, easy like Mel remembers; the stable heat of another person on top of her, the steady, slick softness of a tongue brushing against hers. Trinity kisses like she performs surgery, calculated but determined, spurred on by the breaths Mel is panting into the pearls of her teeth. Like she’s opening Mel up for something bigger, something rawer, taking her time exploring.
Trinity settles herself fully onto Mel’s body as she pulls away from her mouth. Lets her lips travel across a rosy cheek, down the line of Mel’s jawbone, nipping with her canines and smiling against pale skin when Mel gasps. She sucks gently at Mel’s chest, skirts the top of her breasts and nibbles what Mel hopes to be a mark right off to the side of her clavicle.
Mel’s knees fall open further at the sides of Trinity’s hips. Her hands fly up to Trinity’s hair when Trinity moves again, a jerky movement like Mel hasn’t really thought it through. Trinity laughs against her flesh, hot breath puffing against a pink nipple.
“Eager,” she tuts. Dips her head down and takes one into her mouth. Mel positively keens, chest arching like she’s chasing the touch, like what Trinity’s giving her isn’t nearly enough. And it isn’t, something dark unfurling behind her ribcage and sparking straight down. But Trinity teases her with it, licking and sucking, teeth poking out from behind her bottom lip as she grazes them against the sensitive skin.
“God, Trinity—” Mel whines. Tightens her fingers against Trinity’s scalp and delights in the way Trinity’s mouth falls open with it, panting against her.
Trinity hums. Kisses her way between Mel’s sternum, down and down and down to her hip bone. Trinity fans her palm out against Mel’s belly, thumb grazing the hem of her pants. Mel bucks up against the touch.
“I don’t think you’ve been nearly nice enough, honey,” Trinity says. The pet name is unexpected but Mel’s mouth falls open in a moan regardless, eyes screwed shut as her fingers flex at the nape of Trinity’s neck.
She relents, like it’s that easy. “Please,” she says. She feels unraveled already and Trinity hasn’t even done much, but Mel can feel her eyes on her, can feel the warmth of her touch sparking on her skin deliriously. “I want you to touch me.”
"Shit," Trinity curses underneath her breath, but that’s all it takes for her to grab Mel’s pants and underwear both and tug them down. The chilled night air hits Mel’s heated skin instantly, the sharp contrast making her clench around nothing. She tightens her thighs, tries to close them, but Trinity’s palms stop the movement. She holds Mel open, rubs against the sparse hair littered against the backs of her thighs as she shushes her gently.
Mel looks down and finds that Trinity isn’t even looking at her—not her face, anyway, gaze directly pulled to Mel’s cunt like it’s the secret wonder of the world. Black hair ruffled from Mel’s fingers running through it, look of pure want plastered on her face as she stares at where Mel is most tender, where she’s dripping down her own thighs and onto her bed. Mel grinds down against nothing but air and feels the sharp pin prick of Trinity’s nails digging into her skin.
“Fuck, Mel, how could anyone pass this up?” Trinity’s saying. A strangled noise rips itself from Mel’s throat, one of her palms slapping upwards to roll a nipple between her thumb and pointer finger. Trinity spreads her open wider, an unfamiliar ache settling between Mel’s hip bones, the movement splitting her right in half. “I’m gonna take care of you though, alright? That okay?”
Something wriggles underneath Trinity’s tone—a buffer, an offer for Mel to stop it all if she wants to. Checking in for that extra affirmation. It has Mel’s heartbeat rattling against her ribcage, shaking the ivory rungs in her chest. She shakes her head and swallows against the threat of affection clogging her throat.
“‘m okay,” she reassures. “Please, Trinity. Need you.”
Trinity places a harsh nip at the soft skin where Mel’s hip creases into her thigh. Laves at it with her tongue in an almost-apology. “Sweet girl,” she praises. It melts deliciously into Mel’s core, has her throbbing into the empty air where she can feel the promise of Trinity’s mouth.
When Trinity’s tongue meets her, Mel chokes against a strangled moan. It’s an unfamiliar sensation, the strangeness causing Mel to stiffen momentarily before she relaxes—warm and wet and constant, Trinity’s tongue lapping gently at her folds like she's exploring. Like she's desperate for the noises that begin spilling out of Mel, wanton and unrestrained, hands fluttering against her belly and on her thighs.
“That feels good,” Mel gasps. Her hips lift off the mattress subconsciously and she feels Trinity’s palms press down on her skin like she's trying to keep her still. Feels the girl grin against her core, the dangerous promise of her teeth drowned out as Trinity licks into her with fervor. “Oh—”
Mel feels the slick drag of Trinity’s tongue spread upwards, bumping against the underside of her clit. Something rips itself out of Mel’s throat, then, deep and dark and unbitten as she chases the feeling. Trinity laps at her, sucking and puckering her mouth against the bundle of nerves, fingertips tightening harshly at the supple flesh of Mel’s hips. Guiding her down deeper into her mouth, devouring like she’s starved for it. Mel flexes her palm against the girl’s scalp, heat blossoming behind her abdomen, tightens her grip on Trinity’s hair without really thinking and delights in the way Trinity moans against her. She can distantly feel Trinity’s body moving on the end of the bed, mattress dipping underneath their joined weight; can feel the promise of bruises brightening the pale skin of her hips.
It wasn’t like this before—with the girl back in med school, where her touches were nothing more than spasms against Mel’s skin, where her eyes never once looked at Mel for longer than five seconds in fear of what it could mean. Trinity’s eyes are glued onto Mel now, brows furrowed as if in concentration; she goes faster when Mel’s breath begins to even out, presses inside of her more when Mel makes a choked off sob from the back of her tongue. She throws herself into Mel’s pleasure, takes her apart like she’s something to be studied. To be patient with.
“Trinity—” Mel tries, voice wrangled into a panicked whine like she doesn’t expect that edge to threaten her so quickly. Trinity says nothing, just hums in affirmation against her, taking Mel’s clit back into her mouth and flicking her tongue as she spreads her thighs wider. Mel can’t manage more than Trinity’s name, falling out of her throat like a skewed prayer, legs flexing open and twitching back against Trinity’s head as she shoves her cunt down into that warm, wet feeling, over and over. “Please, please—”
Mel’s fingers tighten against Trinity’s hair as she comes, holds her close to her like she’s afraid Trinity will move away. The other girl doesn’t; groans against her, keeps licking at her gently through the blooming heat crashing against Mel, Trinity’s name morphed into nothing more than a high-pitched whine. Mel’s thighs twitch as her lungs stutter inside of her chest, heartbeat rattling around beneath her ribs.
Trinity’s mouth travels upwards when Mel tries squirming away from overstimulation. She leaves a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses against Mel’s heaving belly. Nips at the space between her breasts until she’s propped up against Mel’s heated body, gazing down at her face.
Mel’s stomach swoops dangerously as she focuses back to Trinity’s face—her green eyes are dark, interrupted by the glittering moonlight that spills across her face, mouth swollen and gaping, still wet with evidence of Mel streaked against her. Mel shifts minutely underneath Trinity’s body, tries to tamp down the sizzling beneath her skin.
“You alright?” Trinity questions. Her tone is flecked with hesitation, something rougher and rawer that Mel can't quite place. Mel nods, can't tear her eyes away from Trinity’s mouth.
“Can I—?” she begins curiously. Licks her own lips and sees Trinity track the movement. She cups her palm fully onto the nape of Trinity’s neck and nudges her closer before really thinking about it. Mel winces like she’s been caught wanting something she can't have—Trinity said it herself earlier; don’t have to make this into something it isn’t.
But Trinity’s grinning, hint of her teeth shining like gems in the still night. She leans closer and presses her mouth to Mel’s, a simple, sweet thing, but Mel is groaning at the taste of herself flowering on her tongue. It should be filthy, she thinks, but it kicks up that same fire she felt earlier. Trinity takes the opportunity to delve into Mel’s mouth, humming softly.
It turns intense again quickly; Trinity’s making these soft sounds like she's not even aware of it, the vibration reverberating and clanking against Mel’s teeth, spreading down white-hot to her jawline. Mel cards her hand through Trinity’s hair and feels Trinity arching into her touch, silken blouse gliding easily against Mel’s heated chest. The contrast in sensations has her stomach fluttering and her thighs tightening around Trinity’s jean-clad hips. The knowledge that Trinity has remained fully clothed while she took Mel apart beneath her, laid open and entirely bare, sends her brain into a frenzy.
Mel pushes against Trinity and Trinity acquiesces easily, rolling over onto her back as Mel settles over her thighs. Mel places a few more kisses onto Trinity’s mouth, ghosts them down her neck. The girl’s pale skin is warm, the chain she’s been wearing cool against the splay of her throat. Mel nips around the silver now. Feels Trinity’s chin bump against her temple as a laugh startles from her throat.
"Your turn now?" Mel chirps. She pulls herself away from Trinity’s throat, smiles softly down at her. She feels comfortable here, still pliable and mellow from her orgasm, from Trinity’s attention on her. She doesn't feel the alcohol anymore but thinks that Trinity’s palms spreading out against her lower back is as close to it as she can get outside of the bar.
Trinity averts her gaze, expression shuttering into something Mel can't quite make out. Mel’s heart plummets directly into her gut. "I actually—there's no need, this time. All good."
Mel's brows dip in confusion. "But you said it's been a while for you too, so I thought—" She pauses, hands fluttering together as she tugs gently at the flesh. She’s nearly hovering off of Trinity’s lap now, ready to bolt. "Of course I also don't wanna pressure you or anything—"
Trinity shakes her head immediately, licks at her swollen mouth. "You don't need to because I totally just came from you on my tongue," she interrupts, words flying out of her mouth faster than Mel can keep up with at first. Then, almost as if she's trying to gain control of the moment again, defenses back up, “and from you begging me. That was pretty hot.”
When realization settles over Mel, that roiling wave of heat sparks back to life beneath her skin like kindling. Trinity bearing herself down between Mel's thighs, canting her hips down and down and down against the thick pressure of Mel's comforter between her legs, encouraged by the pleasure she's bringing Mel. Mel squeezes her thighs together and flushes when Trinity grins up at her knowingly.
"That's really attractive," Mel blurts, a little breathless. That fire beneath her abdomen held close by the way Trinity's eyes darken, the way her knuckles flex out against Mel's skin like she's restraining herself.
"Yeah?" Trinity prods.
Mel's mouth opens around an affirmation. She settles back down onto Trinity’s lap, hisses at the way the fabric of Trinity’s jeans drags deliciously against her center. “No one’s ever—ah—done that before. With me.”
Trinity says nothing for several beats, green eyes drawn to where Mel presses against her thighs. For a split second, Mel worries that she’s said the wrong thing; that Mel’s lack of experience will suddenly be unappealing in the aftermath.
Mel traces the line between Trinity’s brow with her gaze. She can practically see the gears turning behind her head.
“I’m gonna say something,” Trinity finally begins. She speaks slowly, like she’s unsure if she should even begin. Mel gives a curt nod and waits for her to finish. “I’m saying this from a place of friendship, alright?” Trinity emphasizes. Takes a deep breath before the rest tumbles out of her, quick and sharp, “your experience with sexual encounters makes me sad. And to be honest, going through the whole ordeal of finding a quick fuck whenever the urge hits me can get so daunting—”
Trinity stops herself, tongue darting out against her lips. Mel is still staring down at her, expression pulled down in confusion. Trinity won't look at her directly, focused on the moonlight slanting over the ceiling. Mel lowers her hands from their place still on her stomach, settles them on Trinity’s ribcage. She hears Trinity’s sharp intake of breath, the way her sides expand as she begins talking again.
“Maybe it could be convenient for the both of us. I scratch your back, you scratch mine?” The corners of her mouth twitch like she’s fighting against a grin. “I give you an orgasm, you give me an orgasm—the circle of life or whatever.”
Mel blinks, tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. The suggestion has something foreign fizzling along the lines of her veins; ever since she's been the sole caretaker of Becca, she never really had time for herself until Becca went to the facility in North Hills. The last few months have been good—great, even—and she feels like she’s finally stepping into a comfortable position at PTMC, finding her footing in the whirlwind of finishing her program, molding herself into a great doctor. She finds companionship with her colleagues, the warmth of their friendship easy and new and exciting.
It’s never really been easy for her—making friends and dating people despite desperately wanting to, much less finding the time to nurture a sexual relationship, but tonight was easy, and it was good, and Trinity’s offering up the idea of more. Like it’s that simple. And for the first time, Mel felt desired, wanted, even if it didn't mean much more than that. It’s intoxicating.
Mel finally breaks the silence, voice poised in a question. “Like research?”
“I—” Trinity puffs out. Her mouth is caught up halfway between surprise and laughter. She eventually relents, palms leaving Mel’s skin as she gestures them around. “Yeah, sure.”
Mel brightens. “And it’ll help with your getting laid problem,” she parrots. Nods her head resolutely. "I'm definitely making it up to you next time, then." She leans down and kisses the corner of Trinity's slack mouth, ignores the thrill that zings through her at the promise of a next time.
Trinity hums, kisses Mel softly for a few beats. Mel melts into her, humming at the silk of Trinity’s shirt beneath her. Trinity pulls away after a few beats, brows furrowed.
“It’s gotta be strictly business, though,” she emphasizes. “No feelings whatsoever, alright? That’s messy as hell and I don't want any part of that. And we work together, so. There’s also that.”
Mel lets the words settle between them to let Trinity know she understands, basking in the resoluteness of them.
“I had a good time,” Mel says softly. “I’m guessing you did, too, so—” She nods again, just to drive her point home. “That’s all it has to be.”
Trinity looks at her, eyes squinted, mouth tucked into her teeth like she’s debating on saying something. Then, she’s grinning, stretching her limbs out beneath Mel like a cat.
“I’m gonna have to bum a shower though, babe—” she groans. Mel laughs softly, nickname clenching something in her chest as Trinity rolls her off of her thighs, lets her weight plop down on the mattress beside her. “Maybe some sweats, too. Got a very uncomfortable thing going on down South.”
Mel points her toward her closet and watches as Trinity rifles through her clothing and scurries off to the bathroom. She lies in the warmth Trinity left behind, eyelids heavy and stomach swirling around something foreign.