Chapter 20
20
Ginny wakes up the next morning when Elsie presses a kiss to their cheek. They can’t help but smile, their eyes still closed. But then Elsie’s moving, getting up, and Ginny reaches for her.
“Nuh-uh.” They’re not awake enough yet to make real words.
“I’m just going to the bathroom,” Elsie whispers. “I’ll be back, I promise.”
“Mmm.”
Ginny lets Elsie go, and she does.
It makes sense that Elsie would whisper. Like she didn’t want to break a spell. Because that’s what this feels like: magic.
Elsie wants to date her. They are dating. Elsie is her girlfriend.
Ginny planned to do whatever Elsie wanted on this trip, and it turns out she wants what Ginny has always wanted. It’s surreal and overwhelming and somehow also real and simple at the same time. Being with Elsie is just so fucking easy.
When they started this, Ginny was okay not talking about the future. For a lot of reasons. Because they were busy fucking. Again and again and again. Because they’re happy with Elsie in their life, in whatever way she wants to be. Because they don’t know what that future looks like for them—unemployed and unsure what comes next.
But mostly, because they were afraid the future Elsie wanted wasn’t the one they wanted. Better to be friends who fuck, better not to talk about it than be disappointed. Focusing on this trip was fun. It was certainly better than breaking their heart. Ginny would’ve gone along with anything Elsie wanted. They’ve always gone along with anything Elsie wanted. They only talked about things because Elsie was brave. It makes Ginny love her even more.
Not that they’re saying that, either. Or—they’ve said it. Said it over and over while Elsie cried after that big orgasm, the one where Ginny was, uh, not exactly nice to her. But they’re not pointing out that they mean it. That it’s not just I love you but I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a decade. That can wait. They can take it easy. Ginny has a feeling it’s not going to take either of them long to get to that point, but she doesn’t need to say it right now.
She’s waited so long for them to get here, she’s not going to ruin it by moving too fast. Patience is a virtue.
They have their whole lives ahead of them.
They decided they were dating yesterday, and this morning Ginny is thinking about growing old together. Then again, Ginny has always thought about growing old together. Elsie has always been their forever person.
Ginny is still thinking about forever when Elsie comes out of the bathroom and stands beside the bed, pouting.
“Why’s that pretty girl so sad?” Ginny internally cringes at their own word choice. It sounds too much like a man telling Elsie to smile more.
“I started my period.”
“Aw man, is that why your back hurt yesterday? I didn’t actually blow it out?”
A brief giggle breaks loose, but Elsie keeps pouting. “Ginny, stop,” she whines. “This is seriously the worst timing ever.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s our last day here and we can’t even have sex.”
Oh now, that just won’t do. Ginny catches Elsie’s fingers and tugs her into the bed. She giggles in earnest as she tumbles, Ginny using the momentum to roll so they’re on top of her.
“Who says we can’t have sex?”
Elsie’s face goes serious again. “Gin. C’mon.”
Ginny runs their nose along Elsie’s jaw, presses a kiss at the base of her ear. “C’mon, what?”
“I’m all—” Ginny is still focused on Elsie’s neck, so they feel more than see the hand Elsie waves around vaguely. “I just put a tampon in.”
Ginny’s chuckle rumbles in their chest. “A tampon’s not about to stop me from licking your clit, or your asshole for that matter. And anyway, a tampon can be taken out.”
That seems to have rendered Elsie speechless.
“Do you want to have sex?”
Elsie shifts her weight under Ginny—not even in a sexy way, but Ginny feels it in their core all the same.
Elsie nods.
“You gotta say it, sweetheart.”
“I wanna have sex.”
“Then we’re having sex.”
“We don’t even have that much time,” Elsie says.
“We packed last night. And anyway, you come easy for me.”
Elsie wrinkles her nose at Ginny. It’s so goddamn cute.
“Don’t tease me.”
“That was me bragging, not teasing.” Ginny kisses her scrunched-up nose. “Take the tampon out.”
“It’s gonna look like a crime scene.”
“Good thing we’re paying someone else to clean it up, then. Though I’m gonna leave a goddamn tip whether they like it or not.”
Elsie angles her chin up to kiss them. “You’re such a fucking gentleman.”
“Well, how about you come all over this gentleman’s face?”
It’s a callback to what Elsie said the first time they did this, which was somehow only two days ago. Ginny feels like it’s been a lifetime. Like an actual lifetime wouldn’t be enough.
“You’re my girlfriend. ” It sounds so fucking good.
“I’m your girlfriend.” Elsie giggles. Then: “Wait. What should I call you?”
“Daddy?”
Ginny expects Elsie to roll her eyes, maybe punch them in the side. They don’t expect her to tilt her head so she can look at them through her lashes.
“Yes, sir.”
Oh shit.
“You’re trouble. ” Ginny returns their mouth to Elsie’s neck so she can’t see how flushed that made them.
“No, sir, not me. I promise I’ll be good for you.”
Jesus. This girl.
“Then be a good girl and go take your tampon out. Then I want you on your back.”
“Yes, sir.”
Elsie does as she’s told. Ginny kneels on the mattress between her legs and just looks. They stare at everything they’ve never been allowed to focus on before. Elsie’s creamy skin, cool undertones and barely there freckles dotted across her cheeks, shoulders, the swell of her chest. Clusters of tiny broken blood vessels, almost burgundy. Legs that look twice the length of Ginny’s. They’ve gotten prickly—Ginny kept Elsie too busy the last time they were in the shower to shave—but the hairs are too fine and blonde to be seen.
Ginny has always been a boob man. There’s no type she doesn’t like—except her own, sometimes, grapefruits declaring her assigned gender to strangers. On another person, Ginny has never seen an imperfect pair, yet Elsie’s are still the best she’s laid eyes on. Round and just big enough to be soft, nipples like Hershey’s Kisses, or a cherry on top, or some other thing Ginny desperately wants in their mouth.
Elsie’s hand moves to play with her own hair, golden across the white pillow, and Ginny catches sight of the ampersand tattoo on the inside of her wrist. Ginny has a matching one, opposite wrist. Me & You.
“Like what you see?” Elsie asks.
“You’re fucking beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Ginny’s heart skips a beat, or does a cartwheel or some other kind of ridiculous, joyous celebration. They try not to think about how absurdly in love they are with this girl and focus on the task at hand.
Though task is not the right word. This is anything but a chore. Elsie is tense, like she’s still not certain about period sex, so Ginny teases. They suck at Elsie’s inner thighs, one, then the other, back and forth, until Elsie relaxes. Her legs splay open, her breath heavy.
“You ready, sweetheart?” Ginny says, mouth poised in front of Elsie’s center.
“Yes, sir.”
Whether she’s committing to the bit or serious about calling them sir, Ginny doesn’t care.
“That’s a good slut,” they growl, and lick.
“Fuck.”
The taste is sharper, with a metallic undertone. Ginny wants to bathe in it. They want to do everything with Elsie. They’ve never been particularly interested in period sex before, or rimming, or degradation, but with Elsie, everything is so hot. They’d let her top them if she wanted. They’d let her do anything she wanted, not just this week, but forever. As long as they get to keep fucking her.
The noises Elsie makes when she comes are almost enough to get Ginny there themself. She gasps and curses, pants oh my gosh and moans Ginny’s name. It’s the best thing Ginny’s ever heard.
Ginny stays on their stomach between Elsie’s legs while she comes down, watching her chest heave. Eventually, Elsie opens her eyes and looks down at them.
“Oh my gosh, your face.”
Ginny grins. They can only imagine what they must look like—a boxer after a fistfight, a lion lifting its mouth from a carcass. They wipe their cheek against Elsie’s thigh and leave behind a smear of red.
“Should we shower to clean up?” Elsie asks.
“Oh, I’m not done with you.”
Ginny slides two fingers into Elsie’s cunt. It’s wet, slippery, even hotter than usual—literally, like she’s running a fever. Elsie comes again, as always upon penetration. Ginny fucks her through it and straight into another one.
After, Ginny says, “We should’ve put period sex on the list.”
“It’s a couple days early. I didn’t expect it.” Then, “I don’t know that I would’ve put it on the list anyway. I don’t usually feel good enough, plus it’s all messy.”
“Worth it,” Ginny says. “I do have to clean up, though.”
They’ve used so many washcloths to clean Elsie over the past few days that yesterday, they had to call housekeeping for more. They get yet another now, soaked in warm water, and drag it over Elsie’s skin.
“You’re so good to me,” Elsie murmurs.
“All I wanna be,” Ginny says.
Once Elsie is sufficiently cleaned, Ginny returns to the bathroom to wash their hands and face, which are both a disaster. They grin at themself in the mirror.
“Maybe I should always spend the week before my period on vacation,” Elsie says from the bed. “I didn’t even cry a bunch or anything.”
“You did basically lick the plate when we had a chocolate dessert, though.”
“That wasn’t period related, it was just delicious.”
Ginny laughs. Maybe they can swing by the restaurant on the way to the airport, get some chocolate cobbler to go. One round of washing gets their face clean, but they squirt soap into their hands a second time, fingers still a little pink.
“Ginny.” Elsie’s voice holds none of its previous mirth. “What is this?”
Ginny scrubs at the blood in their cuticles. “What?”
Elsie appears in the doorway of the bathroom, staring at Ginny’s phone in her hands.
“I was going to add period sex to the list and you got a notification,” she says. There’s something in her voice that Ginny can’t place. “An email. About picking up your last check?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
They turn off the water, dry their hands on a towel. There are definitely better ways to do this, but might as well rip the Band-Aid off now.
“Karl wouldn’t give me time off, so I quit.”
They’re going to explain more—talk about options and plans and dreams they have for the future. It’s stuff they can figure out together, them and Elsie, figuring out what their future will look like, together. The thought makes them grin, wide, and as they take a breath to say all of that, Elsie talks first.
“What. The. Fuck?”
Elsie’s eyes are closed, her index finger and thumb pressed to her forehead. Ginny doesn’t understand this reaction at all.
“You can’t just quit your job for me.”
Ginny snorts, which is clearly not the right response, since Elsie’s eyes fly open, hot and angry.
She discards Ginny’s phone onto the bathroom counter, less gently than Ginny would like. “I’m serious.”
“I didn’t quit my job for you. You know I never liked that job.”
“And yet you didn’t quit until now.”
“So?”
“So if you were doing it for yourself, why didn’t you do it before?”
Because they didn’t have anything else lined up, and anyway, it wasn’t terrible.
Of course, that is all still true.
They didn’t quit their job for Elsie.
Except. They kind of did, didn’t they?
They’ve never liked their job, sure. They’d talked about quitting, yeah. But they never actually did it until it came to not being able to go on this trip with Elsie.
Still, they shrug. “I needed a push out of the nest. It’s not a big deal.”
“But you obviously knew it was a thing, because you lied to me about it.”
“I didn’t lie to you. I just didn’t say anything because this trip is supposed to be about you.”
They really wish they weren’t stark-ass naked for this conversation, but at least Elsie is, too, hands on her hips, which does nothing but thrust her bare tits out farther.
“This whole week, you told me I have to figure out what I want for myself, and meanwhile, you quit your job for me. And kept it from me because you were worried about my feelings?”
“It’s not some crime to put you first when your engagement just ended. I’m allowed to focus on my best friend.”
“You say that like this is a temporary thing. You say I don’t know who I am on my own as an adult, but look at you. You quit your job to tag along on this trip.”
Tag along.
“Before that, you followed me to college. You latched on when we were kids and never let go.”
You followed me to college, she says, like she hadn’t been the one to suggest they go together. She’s doing a great job of making their friendship sound one-sided, like Ginny was desperate and needy and Elsie was just doing them a favor. Ginny knows it’s not true, but their stomach drops out of their body anyway.
“I thought—” Elsie huffs. “In high school, I thought we stayed friends because that was what we both wanted. Have you just been pining over me since then?”
It sounds so fucking pathetic.
“That’s a really shitty thing to say, Elsie.”
“I just want to get everything out in the open. To be honest with each other.”
There’s a difference between honesty and this. This doesn’t even make any sense, the way Elsie is being cruel for the sake of it. They’re supposed to be dating. Last night they’d decided. She’s right that they’ve been a matched set since they were kids, never one without the other, but last night they’d decided on a new beginning. And here she is throwing that away before they’ve even tried.
“So everything you said last night about wanting to be with me—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Elsie snaps. “You say you want to date, but this whole week, you were fine fucking and not talking about it. If I hadn’t brought it up, would you have let us go back home without saying anything?”
Just this morning Ginny admitted to themself that they would have, they would’ve gone along with whatever Elsie wanted.
“How do I even know you do wanna be with me? How do I know you’re not just doing whatever Elsie wants because that’s what’s supposed to happen on this trip?”
Ginny rolls their eyes. It’s not like they’ve spent their whole friendship hoping for something else. Yeah, they would’ve kissed Elsie any time she asked, but they weren’t holding out hope, they weren’t settling. “Obviously I’m not just going along with whatever you want. This is bigger than that.”
“How can you say obviously ? You haven’t pushed back on anything I’ve wanted to do, this whole trip. When I said friends could fuck, that was fine. When I said I wanted to be your girlfriend, that was fine, too. Maybe you don’t even realize what you’re doing, you’re so caught up in my happiness you have no idea what you actually want.”
Ginny knows what they want. Ginny wants what they’ve always wanted: Elsie, in any way they can have her. But how can they say that? How does that do anything but prove Elsie’s point?
“How can you have not told me this?” Elsie asks.
They didn’t want to upset her, didn’t want to distract from Elsie getting what she wants. More evidence that Elsie has a point. Ginny runs their hand through their short hair, grips the ends, and tugs.
“I can’t believe you quit your job.” Elsie sighs. “Do you do everything for me?”
Ginny should know better than to be sarcastic right now, but the snark comes out anyway. “Oh yeah, definitely,” they sneer. “Fostering dogs, woodworking—all of it’s for you.”
Elsie crosses her arms over her chest. She looks at Ginny the way a foster dog at the vet does: victimized. Betrayed.
“I don’t even want to talk to you right now.”
Elsie gets everything Elsie wants.