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threeguessesTitle: you got a face with a view
Word Count: ~1000
Disclaimer: Disclaimed
Rating: R
Summary: It's the first thing they do when they're friends again.
AN: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
femslash_today's porn battle. The prompt was: Alicia/Kalinda, devoted wives porn trilogy. Needless to say, this is patently ridiculous. OH WELL.
It’s the first thing they do when they’re friends again. Proper friends, after the awkward silences and the shouting and the icy politeness. When Alicia stops snapping at everything, starts smiling again; Kalinda stops dropping off her findings with assistants. After all of that. When it’s good.
“So,” Alicia says at the bar. “There’s porn about me.” She’s been waiting on purpose, trying to catch Kalinda mid-sip – only Kalinda doesn’t give her the pleasure.
“Really.”
They’re a little drunk (and they can do that now – don’t have to worry about what will be said after the fourth drink). Drunk and new, like someone hit a reset button on their friendship. They keep trying to impress one another. A week ago they had a ridiculous conversation about Kalinda’s blonde PI friend: she could come along to drinks, Alicia said (and meant, but you like me better), and Kalinda said, not that kind of friend (meaning, yes).
Very, very new.
“It’s a devoted wives trilogy,” Alicia says. “I’m pretty sure Eliot Spitzer is involved.” She tries to remember exactly how Stephanie Engler had phrased it. “Kalinda—” She mock-lowers her voice. “—Men masturbate when they think of me.”
Kalinda purses her lips around a smile. “You mean, men other than Will?” She catches Alicia’s wrist before the swat, tugging; Alicia slides off her bar stool. There’s a moment where they lean into each other, close and sloppy. Then:
“Okay, we’re watching this.”
As it turns out, Kalinda means now.
Still, there are a few delays. It’s not at the video store they cab to; Kalinda pulls Alicia through a cheap backroom curtain, laughing, as they try to figure out if it’s in the D’s next to Debby Does Dallas, or the T’s beside Tits of Fury. “What is that even about?” Alicia asks, covering her face as Kalinda informs the pimpled clerk what they’re looking for. Not that there’s much point: “My friend wants to see the porno about her.”
Back at Alicia’s apartment, Kalinda finds it with one efficient google search. Alicia finds the wine.
“We should watch Spitzer's first,” Kalinda says. “As a warm-up.”
Alicia hides her face in Kalinda’s shoulder. “I hate you.” And it’s funny, because she really, really doesn’t.
Kalinda smiles. “Uh-huh.” Her breath is warm over the top of Alicia’s head. “Watch the video.”
As pornos go, it’s pretty standard. Lots of fake boobs and cum shots. “I didn’t realise Silda Wall was quite that blonde,” Alicia muses, then: “It’s probably callous to wish we had popcorn, huh?” They decide it isn’t, but drink more wine in lieu of actually getting up, even though “it’s instant-pop” Alicia notes, “so we really have no excuse”. Her lips are stained red; deepest at the middle, then bleeding out.
Before they hit play on Alicia’s big-screen debut (small; dingy; stained, supplies Kalinda, while Alicia digs sharp elbows into her ribs), they switch to coffee. “Although, I’m not sure I shouldn’t just be drinking straight from the bottle,” Alicia says. She tucks her face away against Kalinda’s arm.
“Chicken,” Kalinda sing-songs, and taps once on the touch pad.
Surprisingly, it isn’t as insulting as it could have been:
“Well?” Alicia demands, face hidden. Kalinda sucks in a breath through her teeth.
“Huh,” she says. “I think that’s you. Alone. Touching yourself.”
“What?”
That’s the plot, as it turns out – Alicia’s the frustrated-but-loyal wife; Peter’s the impotent husband incapable of satisfying her. All he does with the hookers is suck on their toes. Porno-Alicia (who has the right hair colour, wrong everything else) is driven to stranger and stranger objects in her quest for gratification.
“Tell me,” Kalinda says, as Alicia puts her head down on the table and shakes with silent laughter, “did the blow-dryer work out the way you hoped?”
“No one,” Alicia gasps, “no one could get off to this.”
Kalinda cocks her head. “I don’t know. The image of you with a cucumber is quite alluring.”
Alicia nearly chokes on her own tongue.
After she’s calmed down, Kalinda ducks her head. Catches Alicia’s eye. “Alright?”
Her face is close and kind. There is no reason to kiss her, and no reason not to. Alicia picks option b).
It’s a peck, really. It’s going to be chaste, it’s going to be dismissible – except then Kalinda catches the arm of Alicia’s desk chair and pulls. One smooth roll, and they’re back in the kiss. Alicia’s so distracted by the sudden shift in balance she doesn’t notice Kalinda’s tongue until it’s edging against her own.
Everything goes hazy for a while. Kalinda leans over both of their armrests to get at Alicia’s neck, bite along her collarbone. There’s nowhere to plant her hand, so she grips the edge of the seat between Alicia’s thighs. It’s almost 100% appropriate until Alicia shifts up against her wrist, somewhere during the stretch of skin between ear and jaw. By the time Kalinda’s reached her mouth, she’s shifting in regular pulses. They both pretend it isn’t happening.
“Shit,” Alicia gasps finally, tipping her head back. “Maybe we should talk about this.”
“Maybe,” Kalinda says. She slides her hand up to cup Alicia properly. “Or maybe I should go get a cucumber.”
Alicia laughs over a moan. “God.” She pushes against Kalinda’s fingers. “I mean it, we’re talking about this afterwards.”
Kalinda bunches up Alicia’s skirt slowly. “So, let me get this straight: I give you an orgasm, then we discuss whether or not it was a good idea.”
“Yes,” Alicia hisses.
Kalinda laughs against her mouth; everything tastes like wine. “No.” She catches Alicia’s hand, drags it down to where her own just was. “You do this. Then we talk.”
“You just want to re-create the porno,” Alicia accuses. “Kalinda,” she whines, then whines again when her fingers touch skin. “Shit.”
Kalinda leans into her body, watching. She’s silent and she’s silent until right at the end, when Alicia’s back is bowing and the shudders are poised at the base of her spine.
“You’re wrong, you know,” Kalinda says. “People could absolutely get off to this.”
Alicia loses her breath when she comes.
Word Count: ~1000
Disclaimer: Disclaimed
Rating: R
Summary: It's the first thing they do when they're friends again.
AN: Written for
femslash_today's porn battle. The prompt was: Alicia/Kalinda, devoted wives porn trilogy. Needless to say, this is patently ridiculous. OH WELL.It’s the first thing they do when they’re friends again. Proper friends, after the awkward silences and the shouting and the icy politeness. When Alicia stops snapping at everything, starts smiling again; Kalinda stops dropping off her findings with assistants. After all of that. When it’s good.
“So,” Alicia says at the bar. “There’s porn about me.” She’s been waiting on purpose, trying to catch Kalinda mid-sip – only Kalinda doesn’t give her the pleasure.
“Really.”
They’re a little drunk (and they can do that now – don’t have to worry about what will be said after the fourth drink). Drunk and new, like someone hit a reset button on their friendship. They keep trying to impress one another. A week ago they had a ridiculous conversation about Kalinda’s blonde PI friend: she could come along to drinks, Alicia said (and meant, but you like me better), and Kalinda said, not that kind of friend (meaning, yes).
Very, very new.
“It’s a devoted wives trilogy,” Alicia says. “I’m pretty sure Eliot Spitzer is involved.” She tries to remember exactly how Stephanie Engler had phrased it. “Kalinda—” She mock-lowers her voice. “—Men masturbate when they think of me.”
Kalinda purses her lips around a smile. “You mean, men other than Will?” She catches Alicia’s wrist before the swat, tugging; Alicia slides off her bar stool. There’s a moment where they lean into each other, close and sloppy. Then:
“Okay, we’re watching this.”
As it turns out, Kalinda means now.
Still, there are a few delays. It’s not at the video store they cab to; Kalinda pulls Alicia through a cheap backroom curtain, laughing, as they try to figure out if it’s in the D’s next to Debby Does Dallas, or the T’s beside Tits of Fury. “What is that even about?” Alicia asks, covering her face as Kalinda informs the pimpled clerk what they’re looking for. Not that there’s much point: “My friend wants to see the porno about her.”
Back at Alicia’s apartment, Kalinda finds it with one efficient google search. Alicia finds the wine.
“We should watch Spitzer's first,” Kalinda says. “As a warm-up.”
Alicia hides her face in Kalinda’s shoulder. “I hate you.” And it’s funny, because she really, really doesn’t.
Kalinda smiles. “Uh-huh.” Her breath is warm over the top of Alicia’s head. “Watch the video.”
As pornos go, it’s pretty standard. Lots of fake boobs and cum shots. “I didn’t realise Silda Wall was quite that blonde,” Alicia muses, then: “It’s probably callous to wish we had popcorn, huh?” They decide it isn’t, but drink more wine in lieu of actually getting up, even though “it’s instant-pop” Alicia notes, “so we really have no excuse”. Her lips are stained red; deepest at the middle, then bleeding out.
Before they hit play on Alicia’s big-screen debut (small; dingy; stained, supplies Kalinda, while Alicia digs sharp elbows into her ribs), they switch to coffee. “Although, I’m not sure I shouldn’t just be drinking straight from the bottle,” Alicia says. She tucks her face away against Kalinda’s arm.
“Chicken,” Kalinda sing-songs, and taps once on the touch pad.
Surprisingly, it isn’t as insulting as it could have been:
“Well?” Alicia demands, face hidden. Kalinda sucks in a breath through her teeth.
“Huh,” she says. “I think that’s you. Alone. Touching yourself.”
“What?”
That’s the plot, as it turns out – Alicia’s the frustrated-but-loyal wife; Peter’s the impotent husband incapable of satisfying her. All he does with the hookers is suck on their toes. Porno-Alicia (who has the right hair colour, wrong everything else) is driven to stranger and stranger objects in her quest for gratification.
“Tell me,” Kalinda says, as Alicia puts her head down on the table and shakes with silent laughter, “did the blow-dryer work out the way you hoped?”
“No one,” Alicia gasps, “no one could get off to this.”
Kalinda cocks her head. “I don’t know. The image of you with a cucumber is quite alluring.”
Alicia nearly chokes on her own tongue.
After she’s calmed down, Kalinda ducks her head. Catches Alicia’s eye. “Alright?”
Her face is close and kind. There is no reason to kiss her, and no reason not to. Alicia picks option b).
It’s a peck, really. It’s going to be chaste, it’s going to be dismissible – except then Kalinda catches the arm of Alicia’s desk chair and pulls. One smooth roll, and they’re back in the kiss. Alicia’s so distracted by the sudden shift in balance she doesn’t notice Kalinda’s tongue until it’s edging against her own.
Everything goes hazy for a while. Kalinda leans over both of their armrests to get at Alicia’s neck, bite along her collarbone. There’s nowhere to plant her hand, so she grips the edge of the seat between Alicia’s thighs. It’s almost 100% appropriate until Alicia shifts up against her wrist, somewhere during the stretch of skin between ear and jaw. By the time Kalinda’s reached her mouth, she’s shifting in regular pulses. They both pretend it isn’t happening.
“Shit,” Alicia gasps finally, tipping her head back. “Maybe we should talk about this.”
“Maybe,” Kalinda says. She slides her hand up to cup Alicia properly. “Or maybe I should go get a cucumber.”
Alicia laughs over a moan. “God.” She pushes against Kalinda’s fingers. “I mean it, we’re talking about this afterwards.”
Kalinda bunches up Alicia’s skirt slowly. “So, let me get this straight: I give you an orgasm, then we discuss whether or not it was a good idea.”
“Yes,” Alicia hisses.
Kalinda laughs against her mouth; everything tastes like wine. “No.” She catches Alicia’s hand, drags it down to where her own just was. “You do this. Then we talk.”
“You just want to re-create the porno,” Alicia accuses. “Kalinda,” she whines, then whines again when her fingers touch skin. “Shit.”
Kalinda leans into her body, watching. She’s silent and she’s silent until right at the end, when Alicia’s back is bowing and the shudders are poised at the base of her spine.
“You’re wrong, you know,” Kalinda says. “People could absolutely get off to this.”
Alicia loses her breath when she comes.
