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[personal profile] neverseeinside
NOTE: Claire is [livejournal.com profile] girl_ofsecrets and is used with permission and love. Future AU!crack, Hank is eighteen going on nineteen and Claire's just turned twenty. The two are in college and, wonder of wonders, roommates.

Like the first time, it started with a six pack on Claire’s birthday…well, close. Claire’s twentieth birthday birthday was in August, and school started the middle of the first week of September.

Still, they were together again and it felt better than good, it felt right. They were roommates, they had the same Sociology, Chem II, and Anatomy classes together, and all the girls in the dorm were really cool to her. Probably because she was Claire’s best friend…but it still felt good. She was college bound with her homegirl. It was…almost normal.

“Pinky? Are you pondering what I’m pondering?”

“I think so, Brain…but where are we gonna find rubber pants our size?”

Hank dissolved into giggles as she leaned over from her seat on the bed to smack Claire upside the head where she sat on the floor with her back against the edge of the mattress. “You fucking bitch!”

“God that never gets old.”

Giggling, she took another swig of her beer as she rolled onto her stomach and let herself pretend she was getting a little looser. They could both pretend together, enjoy the luxury of drinking without getting drunk and lying to themselves just enough appreciate each other’s company.

“So what do you do for fun in this one-horse town?”

“Not much…study. And drink in our room.” Claire mused, reaching up to tug on Hank’s hair with a playful smirk. After the incident (don’t call it, don’t make it real), things had changed just a little. It wasn’t as easy to horse around, to shove and hug and mock-grope each other, but tonight it was like that night had never happened. They were kids again and it was easy to be close again. It restored a piece of something she hadn’t realized was missing.

“So, you never did decide which bed you want. There’s two.”

The place was a suite with three bedrooms, so she had her pick…she’d just about settled on the room next to Claire’s, but delayed picking out loud because that would mean it was time to go to bed. They both had class the next day, and Hank wasn’t ready to lose the easy camaraderie they were rediscovering.

“Yeah…I’m kibitzing.” She sighed, shrugging with a grin as she looked down at Claire. She was still on her stomach, within easy smacking distance of the Pinky to her Brain, but laying this way she was closer in another way. For a split second, she was seventeen again and she’d just kissed, really kissed a girl for the first time in her life. That first taste of heat was lingering in the air, as if Claire were remembering it right along with her.

Claire’s lips parted, as if she was going to offer up another offhand witticism, and once again Hank was seventeen…seventeen and curious.

It wasn’t rushed this time, there was no surprise as she shifted closer and leaned in slowly. Claire had time and opportunity to move. She didn’t.

She didn’t close her mouth, either, as Hank’s lips met hers.

The hand that went to her shoulder this time gripped right away, clutching as her jaw went slack and her taste flooded Hank’s senses. It was the same sweetness and hops, the waxy tang of fruit flavored lip gloss that was both familiar and strangely thrilling. It was a little like falling as she was tugged, then dragged, drawn into the alien taste and unfamiliar curves of another woman’s body.

As Claire pulled, she didn’t resist, sliding to the floor as Claire’s fingers slid through her hair. It was perfectly innocent, Claire’s hands in her hair and on her shoulder, Hank’s hands on either side of her head to prop herself over her. The tangle of their legs, however, was another story as they fell naturally together: Hank’s legs straddling Claire’s thigh, Hank’s knee brushing the juncture of Claire’s thighs.

The hard, quickening slam of her heart against her ribs was familiar, the pressure that made it harder to breathe known to her. She knew the heat and press of sex, of lust, but she’d never found it with another girl. It never pushed her towards the yielding crush of curves, soft breasts and small hands or ignited the kind of hunger she was feeling at that moment…the hunger that had been ignited two years earlier in a garden in the Hamptons.

For a moment, the kiss broke. There wasn’t enough air, only Claire’s breath warm against her face and her body hot beneath her, vibrating with tension and need. Her eyes, usually so blue, were dark and searching and just a little desperate, echoing everything Hank was feeling.

They stilled, just long enough to let the question slip silently between them before Claire dragged her back down and Hank let her, deepening the kiss where she’d stopped herself two years before.

It was awkward at first, wanting and unsure of how to find what they were looking for, but gradually hands grew less shy as they moved over clothed skin. Hank’s fingers wound in Claire’s hair now as Claire’s hands slid to her waist and kneaded there, building courage to move under her wifebeater and find bare skin. The touch startled her, tore a gasp from her throat, but when she heard Claire’s breath catch the gasp became a strange keening sound she didn’t even recognize.

She was falling and couldn’t stop. Into Claire’s kisses, into her hands, into the uncharted softness of a woman’s body. Shirts fell away, and Hank was on her back before she knew it as they rolled so she could get Claire naked to the waist save for her bra. Even still, they were moving, legs locked and rocking against each other. It was the rhythm their mouths met to, the pulse their hearts hammered to, the tempo at which they explored the newly discovered expanses of bare skin. The feel of Claire’s hands on her breasts was shocking enough to make her gasp, the same as Claire did when Hank’s fingers hesitantly traced the curve of one mound bare above the utilitarian, basic black sateen of her bra.

Still curious, she paused to press her lips to that curve, lay her cheek against that softness. Claire’s head fell back, and for a moment Hank was sure that the ache building low in her body just might kill her.

Claire was the first to move, to slide a hand between Hank’s legs and add pressure with her hand as they rocked together, startling Hank to action as she reached for Claire in turn. Grinding harder against her leg, Hank took full advantage of her strength and dug her fingers into the thick seam of Claire’s jeans, adding enough pressure to make her stiffen and throw her head back, crying out as she did.

“Omigod, ah!...”

Groaning, Hank hauled her back down and stole the last of her words, her breath as she rolled again, leaning over Claire to roll her hips and stroke her through her jeans. Claire’s knee lifted to meet her, fingers straining to help her get close enough to fall over the edge of reason.

It wasn’t until Claire came, tense and shuddering beneath her that Hank could finally let go and fall with her, spiraling into the abyss with a harsh grunt against the other girl’s mouth as she came hard and abrupt in Claire’s arms.

She shifted off of Claire limply when the last shudder faded, she stayed beside her, arms and legs still tangled as the sweat on their bodies cooled, their harsh breathing slowing and gentling with the sleepiness threatening them both.

“We weren’t drunk.” Hank finally observed, yawning as her hand lay against Claire’s bare stomach.

Claire didn’t answer, just covered Hank’s hand with hers.

“You can choose a room tomorrow.”

Instead of answering, Hank just turned her hand into Claire’s, their fingers threading together as they lay there and together fell the rest of the way into sleep.

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Hank Callahan

September 2009

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