Title: Shall We?
Author: clair_de_lune
Characters, pairings: Sara/Sofia, Michael, Lincoln
Category: Femslash
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 755
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: Somehow, the excessively animated conversation has lead to Lincoln throwing down the gauntlet at her, half challenging, half joking.
Author’s Note: Post-series, non-epilogue-compliant. Many, many thanks to foxriverinmate for the read-through.

I initially wrote this to be posted for the international day of femslash on July 18th, but I’m a bit afraid to clog my friends list if I post on the same day the F/F slash I’ve written recently *facepalm* so here it is, a bit early.

“I dare you to kiss Sofia, then.”

Somehow... Sara can’t precisely remember how, but she’s pretty sure it has something to do with her recklessly saying that kissing someone of the same gender was not such a big deal and happened more often that they would imagine... Anyway, somehow, the excessively animated conversation has lead to Lincoln throwing down the gauntlet at her, half challenging, half joking.

Three of the four of them are a bit tipsy. Linc is tipsy and horny, Sofia is tipsy and hesitant, Michael is tipsy and not amused at all. Sara’s the one sober – she’s a pregnant woman with alcohol issues, that’s two reasons for staying away from tequila – and she shakes her head, refusing to even acknowledge that Lincoln actually asked for this. That is, until she realizes he won’t let her wriggle out of it: he’s a tipsy, horny and stubborn guy. And as sober as she is, she’s just giddy enough to play along. Sofia’s pretty. Not that Sara is okay with wandering around, kissing women and making out with her brother-in-law’s girlfriend, you know, but if she was, Sofia, her big brown eyes, golden skin and perky breasts could absolutely be an option. A nice one.

Ignoring Michael, who is blue steeling at his brother with all the force of his... well, blue steel eyes, she casts a questioning glance at Sofia. To be honest, Sofia will admit she’s a bit shocked; but she’s also amused and comfortable enough to be willing to humor Lincoln; and Sara for that matter. So she merely shrugs her consent while Michael groans, uselessly, his disapproval. Sofia is not so sure he totally objects, by the way – he could put a bit more of conviction into his protest. All permissions granted, after a quick look at Lincoln and with a wicked smile, Sara leans in.

At first, it’s just for show; lips playfully pursed and pressed against lips. Michael is still blue steeling but with a hint of indulgence, and he rolls his eyes when Lincoln mockingly whistles his appreciation. But then, trying to breathe in, Sofia slightly angles her chin up and brushes their lips together a bit more forcefully. At this point, things kind of spin out of control. Sara has suddenly all latitude to find out how soft the mouth beneath hers is, and that Sofia feels damn good, and that Sara wouldn’t mind a bit more tongue, and... It doesn’t help at all that Sofia slightly parts her lips and allows Sara’s to venture past her teeth. Sara tastes her, delves in, drinks in the young woman’s flavor, and happily lets her reciprocate. The sensation is familiar and alien at the same time, soft and sensual, and so, so good Sara forgets her audience, closes her eyes and lets Sofia nip at her lower lip.

Sofia is intoxicating, fragrant and supple against her. Despite her best judgment, Sara deepens the kiss, making it demanding and messy, dipping always further in the warm, velvety mouth. They moan in unison under the onslaught of sensations, deliciously surprised by how much they’re enjoying this. Pretense and show are forgotten as Sofia’s hand slides up Sara’s arm and Sara’s hand palms the back of Sofia’s head to hold her in place, fingers digging into soft black hair. Mouths mashed together, tongues colliding eagerly, teeth grazing swollen flesh, they heavily pant against one another. No wonder that it’s quite distantly that they can hear Lincoln blurting out a hoarse, “Holy shit!”

The imprecation calls Sara back to reality just as she’s about to let her hand glide down Sofia’s throat, maybe a bit lower. She would thank Lincoln for making them stop, if she hadn’t had to blame him for the whole thing in the first place. Blood rushing to her temples, she pulls out slowly and plants a sound peck on Sofia’s open, wet mouth.

The two of them are flushed and breathing hard. Although not as flushed as Michael, who’s not blue steeling at anyone anymore, and not as breathless as Lincoln, who shifts in the sofa and adjusts himself not so subtly. They grin at the sight of the two men avoiding each other’s eyes, trying hard and failing to ignore the tension in the room. Their grins, shaky but complicit, blossom in full smirks when Sara whispers, just loud enough so that everyone can hear her, “Let’s finish this later, shall we?”

Later, maybe, she will assure Michael the offer was a joke. But at this exact moment? She most definitely means it.

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July 12, 2009