Work Text:
"Hey, Hel. It's Madeline. I know you're probably busy, but I have a question for you. Call me back when you can." The voicemail was way too chipper for being left at 5 a.m. Which would've been 2 a.m. her time.
Helen got out of bed to get a coffee. She couldn't think about this yet.
It'd been 6 years since the last time she'd seen Madeline. She'd left for LA and landed three films in two years and a profile in Vogue, and apparently forgot Helen's phone number in the process. What was once constant closeness, relying on each other for almost everything, had quickly become yearly cold happy birthday texts, then nothing. Dead silence.
Helen picked up her coffee mug, glancing at the clock. 10:54 am. She'd slept in. She picked up her phone, listening to the voicemail over again, readying herself to speak to Madeline. How was she supposed to talk to her after all this time? What question could she possibly have for her?
Hey, Hel. I'm sorry for how I've treated you over the past few years. Can we start again?
Helen laughed at herself. Yeah, right. Madeline doesn't apologize. Who was she kidding with that?
She'd spent the last six years building a life without Madeline. She had written a New York Times bestseller. Bought her own apartment. She was fine on her own. She wouldn't start at square one in getting over her again.
But she needed to know why she'd called.
Helen pressed the callback button before she could talk herself out of it. She placed the phone on speaker and sipped her coffee.
The phone rang once.
How the hell was she supposed to start this conversation?
The phone rang twice.
Was this call going to wreck her? She couldn't pick up the pieces again.
"Hel!"
Shit. Get it together. Breathe.
"Madeline."
Smooth.
A car horn blared on Madeline's end of the phone. Helen could hear people mumbling above the sound of the traffic. "I need a teensy-tiny little favor."
No Hi Helen, how have you been? Not one Helen, it's been so long!
Just a continuation, like a conversation left hanging for six years. This shouldn't surprise her by any means. It's just so... Madeline. To disregard any wrongdoing on her part in favor of whatever would benefit her the most at the moment.
"Of course you do." Helen hoped Madeline could hear the unamused look on her face through the phone.
"To make a long story short," Madeline started. Helen suppressed a dry laugh. Madeline couldn't shorten a saga even if her life depended on it. "I was supposed to attend the premiere of my newest movie in New York with a guy I'd been seeing recently, but he dumped me just before my flight last night. My publicist was supposed to set me up with someone when I got here, but for some ungodly reason she can't find a single person free tonight. I swear, I am this close to dragging a random stranger off the street into my car and driving them to the premiere, but we both know that, while I am fantastic at everything I do, I am not made for kidnapping charges or jail. I really need someone to go with me. I cannot look like some lonely old hag. Please, Hel. Go with me to my premiere tonight."
Helen was certain Madeline hadn't taken a single breath in that entire monologue. Her head was spinning. A guy dumped her? She was going to a premiere here? She'd genuinely consider kidnapping someone?
Madeline wanted Helen to go to a premiere with her. A very public, very fancy premiere.
A red carpet. Photographers. Madeline's entire world, the one she'd left Helen behind to go build. And now she wanted Helen standing next to her in it.
She should say no. She knew she should say no. She had a life here, a perfectly good Tuesday that didn't involve Madeline Ashton and whatever chaos she'd dragged off a transatlantic flight. She had edits to review. Dinner leftovers to reheat. She had-
"What time?"
Madeline went silent. Just for a second. Like, even she hadn't expected it to be that easy.
"Eight," Madeline said, recovering smoothly. "But you'd need to be ready by seven. We'll have a car."
We'll have a car. Like they were already a unit. Like six years was a long weekend.
"And what am I supposed to wear to a film premiere on such short notice, Madeline?"
"I'll send something over." Breezy. Completely breezy. She had planned for this, Helen realized. The outfit planned. The car planned. The only unknown variable had been whether Helen would say yes.
That should have annoyed her.
It did.
"Fine," Helen said.
"Wonderful." And there it was: just a flicker of something warmer underneath the efficiency, gone before Helen could look at it directly. "I'll see you tonight, Hel."
She hung up before Helen could respond.
Helen stood in her kitchen, holding her phone, coffee gone cold, staring at nothing in particular.
Six years. And just like that.
She was already in trouble.
It was half-past five when a sharp knock sounded on her apartment door. Helen padded over to the door to see who it was, but only found a box wrapped with a bow sitting on her welcome mat.
She took the box, kicking the door closed with her foot, and noticed a note attached, written in Madeline's big, curly handwriting.
You'll thank me later. -M
Sure she would.
Helen left the box on the table while she did her makeup and styled her hair into a messy French twist, leaving auburn pieces out to shape her cheekbones. She picked up a pair of silver earrings, clicked them in place, and went back to the box.
She opened the lid and peeled back the paper wrapping the neatly folded dress. When she slipped into it, her jaw set. She walked over to the full body mirror and looked over the dress fully.
That infuriating woman.
The shade of red complemented her features beautifully. It was the shade Madeline had always insisted she looked best in. The same shade she had worn to her book launch two years ago.
The cut was a little low for her liking, but it accentuated her breasts nicely. And the slit up the side revealed enough thigh to draw the eye when she turned, but not so much that it gave everything away.
She smoothed the fabric over her hips and turned away from the mirror before she could think too hard about the fact that it fit perfectly. Like Madeline had remembered her measurements. Like Madeline had thought about her body at some point in the last six years.
She put on her heels and grabbed her clutch.
The car would be there in twenty minutes. She was fine.
Helen stepped forward with more confidence than she felt.
The black Suburban with tinted windows parked in front of her building. This was it. Madeline was just behind that darkened window. Could she turn around? Was it too late to say, Sorry, I left my oven on; I have to go home and stay home. Can't go out tonight. My bad.?
Before Helen stepped close enough to the vehicle, a driver rushed out and rounded the vehicle and opened the back door in front of her.
She had no time to prepare herself. Madeline was just... there. All at once, the way she always had been. A cluster of sparkling royal blue fabric and blonde hair and those eyes, and six years collapsed into nothing, as if they'd never happened at all.
"Hel!" Madeline's high pitch squeal could have shattered glass. "God, I did a fantastic job on that number." She gestured towards Helen's ensemble, sliding over in the backseat to make room.
Helen stepped in, and the driver closed the door behind her, effectively trapping her here.
"Well." Helen settled into the seat, eyes forward, not trusting herself to linger too long on the sight next to her. "Looking good is kind of your job."
"And don't I do it so well?" Helen caught Madeline's smirk from the corner of her eye.
Helen let the comment go unanswered. She turned her head. Outside, the city slid past the tinted windows. Yellow cabs and lit storefronts and people who didn't know and didn't care.
Helen was very aware of how little space there was in the back of a Suburban.
"Alright, here's the plan." Madeline pulled out a compact mirror and looked herself over in the small reflection. "We arrive, we do the carpet, you stay close. If anyone asks, you're my oldest and dearest friend."
Helen turned to look at her, astonished by her ignorance. "We've barely spoken in six years, Madeline."
"My oldest and dearest friend," Madeline continued, without missing a beat, "who I have missed enormously and am thrilled to have by my side tonight."
"Missed me enormously." Helen faced forward. "Right." She said it more for herself than for Madeline. Maybe if she just kept it like a mantra, it wouldn't hurt her. Like it would remove all the feeling from it.
She took a deep breath, grounding the spiral. The city crawled outside. "What do you need me to do tonight?" It was logical. The easiest way to get through this was to play along. Then they could go back to their respective coasts and move on. Again.
Madeline clicked her compact shut, tucking it away in her clutch and sitting up straighter. "Just be yourself, Hel!" Helen turned to see that Academy Award nominated smile beaming at her. "Except maybe just a little less. We both know that I don't do well being upstaged. So you'll smile and thank people, namely me, of course, for having you there. The usual." She waved her hand through the air as if it were nothing.
"Sure." Helen's voice was flat. Madeline's lips parted and closed, brows pinched together. Before either of them could continue, the car slowed to a stop.
"We're here, Ms. Ashton." Helen looked out towards the sea of photographers and interviewers lined up along the red carpet.
Madeline blinked a few times, setting her shoulders back and chin up. The driver stepped out of the vehicle, and Madeline painted on a bright smile. All teeth and a small, almost-genuine crinkle at the corners of her eyes.
Through the opening, Helen watched Madeline step into the lights as if she'd never left them. Like she existed for exactly this and nothing less.
Helen slid across the seat and followed her out.
The noise and flashing lights hit her all at once. Helen had just stepped out into a tidal wave and felt like she was being pulled under by the New York air, thick with summer heat.
She tried her best to gain her footing. She opened her eyes, baring her teeth in something that she supposed was a smile. Helen's eyes moved back and forth, but for all her trying, she couldn't focus on anything. Too many faces. Too many voices.
"Come on, Hel."
Madeline's voice came from a few steps in front of her. Finally, Helen had something to focus her eyes on. She looked toward Madeline. All the jewels on her dress shone under the flashes of the cameras. The soft smile on her face quieted the crowd enough for Helen to take a breath.
Helen took a few shaky steps forward until she was within Madeline's reach. A reporter took their opportunity to ask Madeline questions about the production. Of course, Madeline gave her best diplomatic answer to each question, being sure to thank everyone involved in the production. The Madeline Ashton show, as always. Working every angle in the room.
While she spoke, her hand found Helen's arm next to her. She wrapped her manicured nails around Helen's skin and pulled her closer. Like muscle memory. Like, no time or distance had inserted itself between them to begin with. Just two women who have known each other forever and loved each other longer.
Helen smiled at the reporter and nodded along as if she were following the conversation.
She was fine.
Helen took her reserved seat in the front row, waiting for Madeline to finish mingling with each person she passed down their row. Her costars. Her publicist. The director. All their partners. Every person she saw, she had something to say to them. A bright smile to give. An angle to make.
She wouldn't admit it, but Helen felt herself not so patiently waiting for her turn.
When Madeline finally took her seat, she turned to Helen and gave her a soft smile. It was different. Helen had just watched her smile at thirty or so people, and every single smile pulled the skin on her cheeks back. Nearly every tooth visible. But this one? Her pink lips tightened, eyes warm. Helen felt the two words that Madeline wouldn't say to her in that smile: Thank you.
She smiled back.
The lights in the theater dimmed, and the chatter died down. The silence before the screen came to life was deafening.
Then, there she was.
Madeline appeared on the screen. She was enormous on screen. That was the only word for it. She filled the frame the way she filled every room Helen had ever watched her walk into, and Helen had spent twenty years telling herself that was just charisma, just talent, just the particular quality some people had that had nothing to do with her specifically.
She was running out of ways to believe that.
Helen could feel the room settle into the movie. Every camera angle showed Madeline in a way that served the story, but somehow, she never lost her beauty in any of them. Madeline leaned back in her seat, and her knee lightly brushed against Helen's.
Helen tore her eyes from the screen. She looked over the knee covered in blue fabric brushing up against her own bare knee, slipping through the slit in her dress. She looked at Madeline, who never took her eyes off the screen. Either she didn't notice, or she didn't care. Helen didn't move.
At the climax of the movie, Madeline leaned close to Helen. Her warm breath found the crevice of her neck, low voice for her ears only. "It took us 14 takes to get that shot," she said. "Isn't it perfect?"
Helen felt every word shiver down her spine. The cool chill of the theater did nothing to cool the flush that settled over her skin from Madeline's proximity.
She tried to respond, searching her mind for anything. Some riveting insight. Some thoughtful critique. Even a stylistic point to point out. But all she could focus on were the goosebumps on the side of her neck.
"Sure." Smooth.
Before Helen knew it, the movie ended, and she was being whisked away to an after-party.
She thought her job ended after the movie, fully expecting to be driven home, but when Madeline's driver stopped outside a Manhattan loft, Helen realized Madeline had roped her into another event.
Helen groaned. She wanted more than anything to go home, slip into her fuzzy pajamas, and bask in the silence and isolation.
Without a care, Madeline took Helen's hand and dragged her through the building, up the elevators, and to the penthouse.
Stepping through the entrance, Helen realized the entire crowd from the theater had poured into this Manhattan loft with apparently no regard for fire codes. There was just enough space to squeeze through the room, but the heat from the crowd settled heavily on her skin.
Madeline stopped now and again. She'd put a hand on a shoulder, kiss someone's cheek, or just smile. Helen grew tired of waiting, so she squirmed her way to the kitchen. On the table, every top-shelf liquor bottle lay out. At least there were some perks to this night.
She poured herself two fingers of bourbon and made her way to a corner of the room next to a window. Somehow, the corner had the most space. Room to breathe.
She looked out at Manhattan below. The people on the sidewalk were mere specks lit up by billboards in the night. Helen couldn't figure out where was better: here or there. No one or someone? Visible enough to recall or invisible enough to blend in?
Helen sipped from her chilled glass and moved her gaze from the real world to focus on the crowd. She could see most everyone from her corner vantage point. It didn't take long for her eyes to land on bright blonde hair nodding along to a conversation with some executive.
Almost as if Madeline felt it, she turned her head to meet Helen's eyes. She winked at her from across the crowd and raised her own drink in cheers. A silent gesture lost on everyone else, but to Helen, she could tell what it meant: I see you and I'm over here.
Helen smiled, raising her drink back and turning back to the window to imagine the outside world. She'd see two specks walking together and imagine where they were going, what had led them to the spot at that moment. If they were each other's person. If they would go home together or part for the night there.
She didn't keep track of how much time had passed. The bourbon was good, and the party was moving along, and she was fine standing here alone watching a city that didn't know or care about any of this.
Then suddenly, a hand was on her lower back.
She turned, ready to dodge whatever advances that some drunk minor cast member was making on her. But a floral scent hit her before any sight could. And then blue eyes were boring into green. Close. Almost too close. But Helen didn't move.
Madeline turned to take in the view that Helen had stolen all night. "Hiding out over here?"
"I like to think of it as observing," Helen said, turning her head back to the window.
"Of course you do." Helen could see that smile that pulled at Madeline's cheeks in her periphery. "How's the party treating you?"
Helen let out a dry laugh. "Well, I've been in the corner drinking someone else's very expensive bourbon for over an hour, so I'd say it's been pretty good."
Madeline shook her head. "I suppose you have always hated these kinds of things."
"I don't hate them." Helen considered. "I just don't see the point of being in a room full of people you don't actually want to talk to."
A soft laugh sounded from beside her. "That's what hating something looks like, Hel."
Neither said anything for a moment. They took in the view, and Helen wondered if Madeline noticed that she still had hand wrapped around her back, subtly pulling her in closer. She let Madeline guide her, their hips inches from touching.
"You know," Madeline said, still looking at the street, "I almost called you when I found out about the premiere. Months ago."
The city moved below. Someone laughed loudly across the room behind them.
"Why didn't you?" Helen asked. Her voice came out even. She was proud of that.
Madeline was quiet for a moment. She swirled the wine in her glass slowly. "I didn't have a good enough reason yet."
She said it as if it made complete sense, like it was a matter of logistics. Like she hadn't just told Helen that she'd been looking for an excuse to call her for months, and a man dumping her before her flight was the one she'd been waiting for.
Helen took the last swig of her bourbon. The heat from the warmed liquor burned its way down the back of her throat, washing away every question bubbling up from her chest.
She took a settling breath that was immediately stolen when she felt Madeline's thumb rubbing along her back from the place her arm had settled. Without thinking, she closed the gap between them, nestled fully into Madeline's side.
She tried to blame it on the drink. The liquor putting her off balance, so of course she'd end up leaning on Madeline for support. But what she couldn't explain away was why she hadn't moved. Why neither of them had.
Helen looked over Madeline's profile. The way her nose curved. The gleam from the city lights shining on her cheekbones. How her eyelashes seemed to flutter a millisecond after she blinked. Helen felt something soften in her chest.
And not for the first time tonight, Madeline turned her head to look back at Helen. But this time, something felt different. Heavier. Like the rest of the world had evaporated, and it was just them standing right here for the rest of eternity.
"Helen," Madeline whispered.
Helen enjoyed the way her mouth moved when she said her name. How her lips curved faintly, tongue peeking between her teeth for just a moment.
Helen leaned forward and kissed her.
Madeline's grip on her back stiffened at first, but quickly softened. Helen felt the flutter of Madeline's eyelashes closing against her cheek and the movement of her lips.
Madeline set her wineglass on the windowsill, and her hand came to rest on Helen's jaw. Helen reveled in the warmth of her skin. The delicate but firm hold on her face encouraged her to open her mouth, swiping her tongue across Madeline's lips. Madeline accepted the silent request. She tasted like sweet red wine, and Helen knew she'd revel in the taste all night.
Madeline's movements slowed before she pulled back. Helen opened her eyes and looked over her face. The surprised look. But also the lightly tinted flush buried beneath her still-perfect makeup.
"Well," Madeline breathed out.
Helen felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Of course, she made all this tension up in her own head. Her mind was already running through exits. The door. The elevator. She could be in a cab within four minutes if she moved now.
"I-" Helen stopped. Started again. "If that wasn't... I mean, if you didn't..."
She closed her mouth. Opened it again.
This is going fantastically.
"I'm sorry," she said finally. Flat and awful. "I shouldn't have-"
"Helen."
"No, I just... I don't know what I was-"
"Helen." Madeline's hand tightened on her jaw. Not unkind. Just... stopping her. The way you stop someone who is about to say something they can't take back. "Breathe."
Without thought, her body followed the command, chest and lungs expanding, taking in all the air she didn't realize she'd been withholding from herself. She let her chest deflate.
"You want to get out of here?" Madeline asked. "I could go for some air. Party's dying down, anyway."
Helen took a moment, still breathless from the exchange, before she nodded. "Please?"
Madeline smiled and took the glass that Helen didn't realize she'd been clutching the entire time to set it next to her own on the windowsill. It was a wonder she didn't break it with the grip she had on it.
She slid her hand off Helen's back but never took her hand off her. She just intertwined their fingers and turned to guide Helen through the crowd. Unlike when they arrived, she didn't stop once to say goodbye to anyone.
Before Helen realized it, they were walking outside into the cool city air. A weight that she didn't realize was on her shoulders lifted, and she could breathe properly again.
They walked down the sidewalk, fingers still linked. Helen thought back to all the specks of people she'd imagined stories for earlier. Where they were going. What had led them there at that moment. Whatever had guided them there, she doubted it was anything as interesting as her and Madeline's reason. But regardless, now, they were two specks walking along the sidewalk. Together.
After a block or so, Helen finally spoke. "Please tell me there's not an after-after party."
Madeline turned, lips barely containing a laugh, eyes crinkling at the joke. "There is, but that's not where we're heading."
Helen smiled. She didn't need to ask to know exactly where they were going.
Madeline tapped the key card against the sensor. The lock clicked. She barreled inside, heels flying off before the door had even shut behind her.
Helen stepped in behind her, gaze sweeping the room. Spacious didn’t quite cover it. A king bed dominated one wall, and floor-to-ceiling windows framed a glittering skyline. The kind of view people paid thousands for, just to sleep next to.
Helen kicked off her own heels with a grateful exhale, arches already sighing in relief. She crossed the room to the window, watching yellow cabs crawl like beetles between skyscrapers. The city never settled, not really. Not even now.
As she looked over the view, she heard Madeline moving about the room behind her before walking toward her. She stopped just a few inches before Helen could feel her warmth. The window doubled the city back at them, LED billboards casting glimmers across the glass. In the reflection, Helen met Madeline’s eyes. Neither of them moved.
"Even after all these years," Helen murmured, "the view still gets me." She flicked her gaze sideways. "Bet you miss it in LA."
Madeline took a deep breath. Helen could see her lips pulled into a tight line in the reflection. "Yeah, I do miss the view there." From the soft look in Madeline's eyes, Helen could tell that she wasn't talking about New York at all.
Helen finally turned to face her. Madeline’s earrings were gone, hairpins pulled loose, blonde curls soft around her face. Still Madeline Ashton, but not The Madeline Ashton. This was something different. Something close to her Maddie. The one Helen used to know. The recognition landed before Helen could brace for it.
"Hi," Madeline breathed. Helen could feel the warm puff of air on her chest, the space between them much smaller than she had expected. Her pulse kicked hard against her ribs.
"Hi," she breathed back. They stood for a moment, both looking at each other with girlish uncertainty before Madeline took a hesitant step forward. It warmed Helen to see Madeline this way. She was so confident in everything she did, but this was when she faltered.
Unable to hold herself back any longer, she wrapped her hands around Madeline's waist and pulled her in. Their lips met. Madeline nipped at her bottom lip, then soothed the sting with a slow lick. Her hands swept over Helen’s shoulders, fingers deftly finding the pins in her hair. One by one, they fell, and her auburn waves tumbled down her back. Madeline’s fingers dove in without hesitation, tangling as if she never wanted to let go.
Their kiss deepened, growing rougher with breathless urgency pulsing between them. Madeline moved forward, guiding Helen backward until her back hit the cool windowpane with a soft thud.
Madeline’s mouth broke from hers, kisses trailing down Helen’s jaw to her throat; biting, sucking, and licking in heated punctuation. Her tongue lapped at the skin she’d marked. Helen tilted her head back, letting her. The bruises would be there tomorrow, no doubt. Tomorrow could deal with them.
"As stunning as you look in the dress I hand-picked for you," Madeline breathed out along Helen's neck, hot air sending shivers up her spine, "I really would like to see you out of it too." Her hands slid from Helen’s shoulders to her chest, palms grazing the curve of her breasts, thumbs brushing over fabric. Her lips followed close behind, planting slow, reverent kisses across every inch of skin she could reach.
Helen’s hands slid up Madeline’s back, fingers finding the top of her zipper. “You first,” she whispered, easing it down inch by inch until it was completely open. She didn’t tug the dress off. Not yet. As much as she wanted to rip it away, she let the choice stay in Madeline’s hands.
Madeline’s breath hitched audibly, and she stepped back just far enough for Helen to see her face, the surprised look in her eyes. The way she looked at Helen's face as if she were looking for answers. Slowly, she slid the blue dress off her shoulders. It whispered down her body and collapsed at her feet.
Helen drank her in slowly, studying each freckle, mapping them like constellations. Her line of sight moved down her chest, past the pale pink lingerie set, over the soft curves of her hips. Her eyes traced every line, every shadow. She was much more beautiful than Helen had remembered. She wore six years like a lifetime of difference.
Helen took a few steps to cross the distance, unhurried. Her hands skimmed up Madeline’s torso, skin like warm petals under her fingers, until they rested beneath her ribs. She felt Madeline's breathing tighten under her touch.
Helen leaned in, brushing open-mouthed kisses across Madeline’s collarbone, up the slope of her shoulder, along the graceful line of her neck. Just below her ear, she paused. “There’s my pretty girl,” she murmured, lips grazing soft skin. Madeline let out a sound, something between a whimper and a gasp, that made Helen smile. “Now,” she whispered, voice like silk, “why don’t you unzip my dress... and lie back on that bed for me, hmm?”
Helen stepped back. She swore she heard Madeline whimper at the loss of contact, small and involuntary, as if it escaped before Madeline could stop it. Helen took in the flush spread across her chest, the lipstick marks dotting her trail. She wanted to bite every single one of them. She filed that away for later.
Madeline stepped behind her. She pulled her hair to the side so Madeline could reach the zipper. When Madeline's fingers found it at the top of neck, she could barely suppress the shiver that ran down her spine. Madeline pulled it down slowly, almost deliberately, the cool air biting each new inch of exposed skin, and then Madeline's breath warming it just after. The zipper hit the bottom. Helen released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Madeline stepped back and waited. The same space Helen had given her. Helen felt that land somewhere behind her sternum, the recognition of it, the care in it.
She pulled at the shoulders of her dress and slowly pushed it down her arms, over her hips, and letting it pull at her feet. Behind her, she heard Madeline's breath catch. Helen turned slightly to find Madeline's eyes traveling all over her body, lips slightly parted, completely unguarded. When Madeline's eyes finally found hers, Helen arched an eyebrow and nodded toward the bed.
Madeline had forgotten entirely. Helen found that enormously satisfying.
Madeline mumbled a quick apology before scurrying off to the bed. She settled on her side, head propped on one hand, blonde hair falling over her forearm, one knee crossed in front of the other. Helen's gaze moved down the line of her shoulder, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip.
She wore the six years like silk: more beautiful now than ever, changed in quiet, devastating ways. Helen had already thought it once tonight. Looking at her now, she thought it again.
She licked her lips and kneeled on the bed beside her. Her hand traced down Madeline's side, leaving goosebumps in its wake, stopping just below her waist. She pushed gently at Madeline's hip, rolling her onto her back, before swinging a leg over to straddle her.
Madeline's mouth fell open, lidded eyes working slowly up Helen's figure. Helen had thought about what it might feel like to have Madeline look at her like this. She hadn't gotten it right. The warmth radiating from Madeline's center beneath her thighs was entirely new information.
Helen pulled her up, kissing her neck and chest as she found the bra clasp and felt it give. Their lips met as she drew the straps down Madeline's arms.
Madeline leaned back, letting the garment slide down her arms and throwing it out of the way. Helen kissed her way down, biting softly at the swell of her breast before wrapping her lips around a hardened nipple. Madeline's gasp was sharp and immediate.
Helen filed that away too. Then switched sides and made her do it again.
Beneath her, Madeline's hips pushed upward, searching. The self-correction arrived before Helen could stop it: not wanted. Needed. Madeline Ashton, who needed nothing from anyone, needed her. Helen felt that squeeze somewhere it had no business squeezing.
She took pity on Madeline. Lifting one knee, she nudged Madeline's thighs apart and pressed her leg into her center, never lifting her mouth from Madeline's chest.
"Fuck," Madeline breathed at the first contact, hips already moving.
Helen smiled against her skin. The warmth coating her thigh through the thin fabric was satisfying in a way she'd sort out later. Less easy to dismiss: the realization that she'd been grinding her own hips down without noticing. She'd sort that out later, too.
Helen continued on her path downward. She sat up and nudged Madeline's thigh again to slot herself fully between Madeline's legs. She placed a chaste kiss at the top of a bent knee and sucked a line straight down Madeline's thigh, stopping so close to her center that Madeline was practically vibrating. Returning to the other knee, she gave it the same attention.
When she reached the bottom, she waited, feeling Madeline squirming under her grip. Her nails dug into Madeline's thighs, and she ran her tongue around the skin just above Madeline's underwear.
"Helen." Madeline breathed out.
Helen looked up to find Madeline's face flushed, pupils so dilated that only small slivers of blue remained. Helen hummed back at her, mouth never leaving Madeline's skin.
"Helen, please," she tried again.
Helen tried not to let a devious smirk cross her face. She sat up a bit. "Please, what, Maddie?" she asked, condescension laced through her tone.
Madeline whimpered, raising her hips towards Helen and tightening the grip she had on Helen's hair.
"Nuh uh, that won't do," Helen said, shaking her head. "Tell me exactly what you want."
"Touch me." Madeline tried hooking a thumb around her underwear to pull it down, but Helen smacked her hands away.
"I'm already touching you, baby girl." Helen ghosted her fingers over Madeline's covered slit. "I might need you to be a little more specific."
Helen enjoyed watching every emotion flit across Madeline's face. From desperation to frustration to embarrassment and right back to desperation. Madeline was panting and whining, "Hel, please."
Helen didn't move any further. She wanted to push Madeline. To make her a little uncomfortable. To have her begging for the things she wanted, probably for the first time in her entire life.
Madeline let out a sigh and brought both hands to her face, as if she could hide from her words. "Helen, please take off my underwear and fuck me senselessly already."
Helen held back her cheeky grin, already hooking her thumbs around Madeline's waistband and pulling down. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Madeline's lips opened, probably with a snarky remark prepared, but it died on her lips as Helen sunk two fingers into Madeline's wet heat. Her head tipped back as she let out a low, approving moan.
Helen felt the muscles around her fingers flutter at the intrusion. She watched as Madeline's back arched off the mattress, her body begging to be touched more. Helen ran her thumb along Madeline's hardening clit, earning her louder sounds of approval. Hopefully, no one checked into the hotel room next door because they were bound to hear every moan and pant. Though everyone in Manhattan could probably hear her at this point. Selfishly, Helen thought she wouldn't have it any other way.
Helen leaned down and wrapped an arm around the back of Madeline's shaky thigh. She could tell she was getting close. Helen pressed her tongue flat against Madeline's clit, never stopping the pace her fingers had set, and dragged her tongue up before sucking it into her mouth. Madeline tasted so sweet; Helen thought she could die then, never having tasted anything else in her life.
One of Madeline's hands gripped the sheet next to her, and the other flew to Helen's hair. "Helen," she panted, voice loaded with desire, need, lust, everything that Helen had always wanted to hear it laced with.
Helen swirled her tongue around Madeline's clit, and without warning, Madeline tipped over the edge. Her muscles clamped tight around Helen's fingers, fingers gripping tight onto Helen's hair. Her thighs trapped Helen between them, but that didn't stop Helen from continuing her ministrations, slowing down carefully enough to prolong the orgasm as long as possible.
When Madeline's thighs released their grip, Helen slipped her fingers out of Madeline and climbed up her body, pressing light kisses to her heated skin as she went. She finished her path to Madeline's lips, leaving a chaste kiss before pulling back and admiring the clumped and smeared messy state that coming undone had left her makeup in.
Helen tucked a stray blonde hair behind Madeline's ear and ran a thumb along her jaw. A devious glint sparked in Madeline's eyes. Before Helen could ask what it was about, Madeline's hand gripped Helen's wrist and brought her fingers to her mouth. She parted her lips and took Helen's fingers in, tasting herself. Helen felt her face go hot at the sight and sensation of Madeline's tongue running between her digits and the light sucking.
Without warning, Madeline released her fingers with a pop and flipped them over so that she'd be on top of Helen. "I do believe," she said, leaning down to kiss Helen's neck and chest, "it's my turn to return the favor."
Helen's mind spun with the change of pace. Before she could catch up, Madeline was on her chest, pulling her bra down roughly to tease Helen's nipple with the tip of her tongue before sucking it into her hot mouth. The moan that escaped her was embarrassingly immediate. She felt herself fully succumbing to the pleasure of Madeline's mouth on her. She had been so certain she'd hold herself together, but there was something about this infuriating woman that tore her apart.
Her hips jutted forward without permission. Madeline's mouth traveled downward, hot and unhurried in a way that contradicted the urgency of everything else, which was, Helen thought distantly, extremely unfair.
Madeline swung a leg over to kneel next to Helen, hooking her thumbs through the waistband of Helen's underwear.
It was about damn time.
Madeline looked up at her. Helen gave a single nod, not trusting her voice. She knew exactly what would come out if she opened her mouth: something whiny and desperate and entirely beneath her dignity. Madeline didn't need to know she'd already won.
At least not yet.
"What is it, Helly?" The patronizing lilt in Madeline's voice was deeply, deeply satisfying to hear aimed back at her. Helen hated that. "Need something?"
If she had an ounce of strength left, she'd smack that smirk right off her face. "Stop teasing," she managed through gritted teeth.
"Aw, come on, Hel," Madeline pulled Helen's underwear off and tossed them across the room, slotting herself between Helen's thighs. "You know I'm just having fun." Each word came out with a punctuated breath, ghosting over Helen's wet slit, and the chills that followed had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
"Mad." She had intended a warning. What came out was not a warning.
Either way, it worked. Madeline bit her bottom lip and lowered herself onto Helen's center. Helen's head fell back in pleasure at the warm, wet shapes Madeline's tongue made over her clit.
"Oh God, yes," Helen moaned. "Such a good girl."
This seemed to encourage her on. She swiped her tongue with fervor and brought two fingers up to Helen's entrance. As she sucked Helen's hardened clit into her mouth, she slid two fingers in easily.
Helen's mind went blank. All she could focus on was every place Madeline was touching her, with her hands, her nails, her tongue. Even the golden locks brushing the inside of her thighs. Every sensation was new and exactly familiar at once, the way things feel when you've been waiting for them long enough.
The familiar coil settled low and tight. Each movement pushed her closer. Closer than she'd let herself get to anything in a very long time.
Helen's hand found Madeline's hair and pulled. The moan that vibrated against her center was the last thing she needed.
She went over.
It started in her center and traveled outwards to every limb. Fingers gripped whatever was within reach. Toes curling. Thighs quivering. Helen didn't know how long it lasted, but it felt like an eternity as Madeline kept her rhythm, coaxing every moment out of her.
When she finally settled, Madeline crawled up and kissed her. She tasted herself on Madeline's tongue and found she didn't mind at all.
Madeline curled into her side, fingers moving along her skin. Neither of them spoke. Helen listened to her breathing and memorized the rise and fall of her shoulder without deciding to, the way you memorize things you're afraid of losing.
"Hey, Hel," Madeline's voice was soft from her place on Helen's shoulder.
"Yeah?" Helen ran her hand along Madeline's back.
"I told you that you'd thank me later." Helen could practically hear the cheeky smirk on Madeline's face.
She let out a deep sigh. "Don't."
Madeline's head popped up to look at Helen. "The dress, Hel. I meant the dress."
Helen's composure broke, much to her dismay. She smiled and shook her head. "You absolutely did not mean the dress."
Madeline settled back down, and before long, she was lightly snoring on Helen's shoulder. Madeline would say she doesn't snore, but Helen always knew she did. She found, lying there, that she had missed the sound of it without ever letting herself know that.
She looked over towards the view from the hotel. It was nearly 2 am by now, but the city was as bright as ever. Still awake. Still in its constant state of motion.
Helen's fingers went to Madeline's hair, scratching lightly at her scalp. She hummed in her sleep, nuzzling in towards the touch, completely unguarded and unaware of being seen.
She had told herself this morning that she wouldn't start at square one again.
Lying here, fingers in Madeline's hair, the city bright outside the window and going nowhere, square one had never sounded so good.