Title: Heat and Skin
Info: Bianca/Clare, for an anon request at degrassi-kink. I debated about whether to claim this as my own, but I ended up really liking what I wrote.
Clare is contact high. Or contact drunk. It’s the only way to explain the way she keeps getting lost in Bianca’s eyes, or why she’s near Bianca at all. There’s some equation in her head, something about friend plus brother plus hoop earrings, but it all falls apart when Bianca grins, slides her hand up Clare’s leg.
Bianca’s hair is in her eyes, so Clare brushes it back. “I am so gone right now,” the older girl slurs, biting her lip and sighing when the music hits a fever pitch.
“Do you need to go home? I can…” Clare trails off. Swallows. Bianca’s mouth is at her neck and gently. Sucking. Clare’s eyes roll back and she doesn’t have words. Not any more. There’s a whole dictionary of things she isn’t saying or thinking right now, and it begins and ends with the curve of Bianca’s body against her own.
“Stay with me, here, arright?” Bianca pulls back, licks her lips. Clare has never seen a mouth so ripe.
–
Bianca rummages through a bag. “Swear I’ve got more pot…” she trails off, smiles, bears her teeth, pulls out a dildo. “Mmm. Not mine,” she observes, waving the phallus at Clare.
Her face is already so hot, she doesn’t think she’s blushing. “Then who’s–” she starts to ask, caught off guard when Bianca slides back onto the couch and pushes her back with a kiss. Slow, simple, perfect. Clare sinks into it, eyes closed, feels her heart speed up.
“You know how to use one, don’t you?” Bianca’s still holding the dildo, and now Clare can see it has a motor, rubbery skin. Ribbed for her pleasure, she thinks, and touches the tip.
She shakes her head and it turns into a nod. “You can’t want me to–.” Trails off again.
Bianca licks her lips, wiggles in place, tugging her skirt up around her waist. “Use it on me, arright? You want me, I can tell.” Her eyelids at half mast, her lips upturned at the corners. “And right now? I want you too.” She turns it on, and the quiet fills with a gentle buzz. Clare can feel it vibrating through her entire core, knows it’s probably the drugs or the alcohol, or just Bianca sitting so exposed, so close. She takes it in her hand, feeling the weight and the size of it. She’s dizzy but she’s going to do this. She wants to do this.
Fingers first, but not inside. Just… brushing, and ohgod she’s so. So wet. Bianca hisses, exhaling quickly. Her hand is there, then, on Clare’s wrist. “Comeon. Stop teasing.”
“Okay,” Clare whispers, and she doesn’t know how she does it, but the vibrator is on and her fingers are tugging panties aside (soaked, so fucking soaked) and she holds it there, for a moment, at Bianca’s entrance and just breathes and listens to Bianca’s breath.
They’re frozen for a moment, and then Bianca’s breath hitches. “Fuck me, Clare,” she growls out, bucks her hips against Clare’s hand, and just like that she’s inside — not her but ohgod just… like her. Clare can hear everything, heightened farther than she’s ever known. She pulls out, slowly, then tests the speed and force, entering Bianca again.
And again.
Bianca’s fingers are white, holding onto the cushions and she finally opens her eyes again and swallows, her eyes locked on Clare’s, and she whispers “Please,” and Clare, happily, obliges.
