Holiday Wine, with You and Me [Chaennie ]

Part 6 : Later On We'll Conspire

If Jennie Kim had known dying would feel this good, she would have done it sooner.

It's impossible to say how much time has passed, with her and Rosie alone together in this room. In a way, Jennie feels as if she's been in Rosie's arms forever. It's dark out, still, but perhaps a little less so than it was before, and exhaustion has settled over her like a weighted blanket, turning her movements languid, her mind syrupy-slow.

Rosie appears to have no such problems.

She's pressed close against Jennie's back, breathing encouraging depravities into Jennie's hair as her fingers move inside her, slow and deep and insistent. Her other hand is drawing an incomprehensible pattern across Jennie's chest, her throat, her jaw; Rosie's fingers wickedly twisting one moment, her palm a gentle caress the next.

In a distant past, an hour or two or so ago, Jennie had been sure Rosie was finally winding down, and Jennie had been more than ready to treat her to her personal — hopefully much more enjoyable — brand of Kim Retribution™. But Rosie hadn't given her the chance, not once, and at this point, it's hurting Jennie's pride a little.

Jennie can't die before she tastes her. It would be an injustice of the highest order.

She turns in Rosie's arms until she's mostly on her back, trying to smoothly untangle herself, wincing when her skin sticks and skids gracelessly against Rosie's. The movement dislodges Rosie's hand from between her legs, but Rosie simply adjusts it, cupping her gently instead.

"Are you okay?" Rosie asks, eyes soft with concern.

Jennie smiles blearily back at her, taking a moment to thoroughly enjoy her view. Rosie is flushed from her face down almost to her stomach, her hair a gorgeous mess. Her shoulders are rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. It's light enough now that Jennie can see that her freckles continue all the way down her chest and Jennie wants to kiss every last one of them, follow them until she can dip her tongue into her belly button, paint a wet stripe down to the junction of her thighs.

"You're perfect," Jennie tells her, reaching up to brush her fingers over the sloping muscle of Rosie's shoulder and down her collarbone, "but it's my turn, now."

Rosie moves the hand she has between Jennie's legs again, experimentally, fingertips dipping shallowly inside her. "I don't think I'm done with you," she says when Jennie gasps, lips quirked in that infuriatingly cocky half-smile Jennie has become far too familiar with. But Jennie has learned that she's incapable of focusing on anything else when Rosie is touching her, and she can feel sleep tugging at the edges of her consciousness already. If this night is a one-time thing — and she sternly assures herself that it is — she can't allow Rosie to gain the upper hand again.

"Jesus, Rosie." Jennie halts Rosie's movement with a gentle hand, shakes her head as if it will help her clear it. "I told you I wasn't expecting you, before. But I definitely wasn't expecting this."

"Yeah?" Rosie grins. "So you're telling me you weren't looking for a holiday fling when you hopped into bed with a stranger?"

Something heavy loosens and thuds in Jennie's chest at Rosie's choice of the word 'fling', the squeezing sensation she's been feeling there each time she looks at Rosie finally easing up a little. She glints her eyes up at her, smirking. "I wasn't trying to get into your bed," she reveals. "I was stealing one of your blankets. You practically dragged me in."

Rosie stares at her, blue eyes wide, startled. "Then when did you— how—? If you—"

She's absurd, Jennie thinks, observing Rosie as she flounders. How can one person be both this adorably clueless and so preposterously confident at the same time? She draws a lazy, contemplative circle around the blushing peak of one of Rosie's breasts, not counting on Rosie to form a proper sentence anytime soon anyway, and smiles when she shivers in response. Rosie's breath hitches. It makes Jennie feel lightheaded. A little warm. A little proud.