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“Knock-knock,” Skye calls through the door. “I know you’re in there.”
When the door opens, though, it’s not Jemma at all but her brother. “Hello, Skye,” he says.
“Hey, Leo,” Skye chirps. “You coming out with us tonight?”
He pulls a face. “Clubbing? Hell, no.”
“Suit yourself,” Skye shrugs before shouting, “Jemma Simmons, hurry the fuck up! We’re burning starlight!”
“Burning starlight?” Leo asks disbelievingly.
“Get it?” Skye grins. “Like daylight, except we’re…”
She trails off, though, when Jemma appears from the stairway, still in her dressing gown but fully made up, hair curled, the whole thing.
“Damn, girl,” Skye murmurs.
“Do I look stupid?” Jemma asks. “I should have skipped the lipstick.”
“No,” Skye says adamantly. “It’s hot. And it’ll go really nice with all the stuff I brought for you.”
Jemma frowns. “You really didn’t have to, you know.”
“Of course I did,” Skye retorts. “It’s your birthday.”
“You told her?” Jemma exclaims, smacking Leo in the arm (though lightly).
“No,” Skye says. “I found it out myself. If you don’t want people knowing, you really oughta take it off your Facebook page. Or just delete your Facebook page.”
“See,” Leo pouts. “No need to hit.”
“Sorry,” Jemma tells him, sheepish.
“Look, I know I didn’t have to,” Skye continues. “I know it doesn’t count anymore or whatever.” Since it’s her human birthday that’s in question and, well, she’s a vampire now. “But I also know you’ve been having a hard time with all… this…” This, being a vampire. “And I guess I thought you’d like it.”
Jemma’s uncomfortably aware of the others’ eyes on her, Skye looking oddly vulnerable in her desire to please and Leo looking like he’s just waiting for Jemma’s reaction to decide what his opinion is of this whole matter. She’s a bit taken aback, yes, this isn’t what she’d expected when Skye offered to take her out and she’d been trying not to think about her birthday but here she is and here they are.
And the only thing that’s right for Jemma to do is meet Skye’s eyes. “I do,” she assures. What’s going on really is that by looking at Skye that way, she’s editing Leo out of the moment, but he’s not bothered by this, at least beyond the fact that he feels like he ought to leave. “I really like it.”
Skye takes Jemma’s hand and smiles way sweeter than most anyone’s ever seen from her, but that only lasts a second before she turns mischievous and declares, “Good. Because remember what we were talking about the other night?”
She’s so happy about it that Jemma can only go wide-eyed and horrified from knowing what’s coming. “You didn’t.”
“I did,” Skye grins.
“Didn’t what? What did you do?” Leo frowns.
Skye just giggles and drags Jemma off to her bedroom.
“Skye,” Jemma whines as she stares at herself in the mirror. “I look ridiculous.”
“You look hot,” Skye corrects, wrapping her arms around Jemma’s now-corseted waist.
“Isn’t this a little…?” Jemma asks, gesturing to her prominently displayed cleavage.
“A little hot?” Skye insists. “Why, yes.”
“But I’m…”
“You’re a big girl now,” Skye coos. “It’s time for your first big girl corset. C’mon, it’s not like you have to doll yourself up like this every night. I mean, I happen to think you’re hot no matter what you are or aren’t wearing, but isn’t it kinda fun?”
Jemma lets her head rest against Skye’s as she contemplates this. “I guess so, yes,” she says. “I feel… I like it, it feels safe, sort of? Like you’ve got a hold of me, or – or –”
She stops – is that too forward? They’re not, like, properly dating or anything, she’s pretty sure – and Skye almost starts laughing before she realizes that it’s a serious concern. (Jemma’s obviously trying to be all tough, but she’s still way more serious about this sort of thing than most vampires.)
“I get it,” Skye murmurs. “And, y’know, I’ve got you, too. If you want.”
Jemma’s eyes widen once more. “Yes,” she says softly. “I do want.”
“Good,” Skye says. “Then it’s settled. Happy human birthday.”
They wait in line at the club like anyone else – Jemma doesn’t want to glamour their way to the front, so Skye doesn’t push (it gives Jemma a few more minutes to get comfortable in her whole getup) – and they strike up a conversation with a pair of college boys who clearly don’t realize that they’re vampires (or lovers, either, which is even more thrilling). Skye’s just flirting away, and the guys are eating it up; Jemma’s pretty sure she gets it, but she’s not great at flirting herself, so she just holds back.
And once they’re inside, she tugs Skye off to the side. “Hey,” she whispers.
Her expression is confused enough that Skye feels sort of bad for a minute, and she takes Jemma’s face in hand and kisses her very firmly. “Hey,” she repeats. “Hey, you know you’re my girl, right?”
“I, I am?” Jemma stammers, mouth falling open in surprise.
“Yes, silly,” Skye says. “We’re here to dance and have fun, maybe get dinner. Maybe that means playing with our food a little, but at the end of the night, it’s you I’m going home with, kid.”
“It is, isn’t it,” Jemma murmurs with a smile, but after a moment, she winces again.
“What is it, Jem?” Skye asks softly, squeezing her hand.
“Isn’t it horribly loud in here?” Jemma asks.
“You get used to it,” Skye promises. “Now, you gonna let me show you off?”
Before Jemma can say anything, Skye tugs her into the crowd, giggling, placing hands on her hips, starting to sway back and forth. “Dance with me,” she offers.
“I don’t think I have much choice, that’s what we’re already doing,” Jemma quips.
They do for a minute, but – and maybe it’s just the corset – Jemma’s still pretty stiff, looking like she doesn’t feel she much belongs here.
“Hey,” Skye whispers. “This isn’t scary, okay? Ease up.” She leans closer so her mouth is right next to Jemma’s ear. “Or do you want me to drag you into the bathroom and make you relax?”
“If you do that,” Jemma murmurs, “I won’t let you stop.”
“Let me,” Skye echoes. “Oh, is that what you think?”
“It’s my birthday,” Jemma says petulantly, her eyes gleaming. “I want you to –”
Suddenly there are two new boys at their side, and Skye untwines herself from around Jemma, smiling coyly. “Hi there,” she exclaims.
They’re not bad-looking, as boys go; they’re dressed like dudebros, but facewise they’re all right, Jemma supposes. Neither is her type (boys so rarely are) but she can work with this.
“Hey,” one of the boys says. “You two wanna dance?”
Fifteen minutes later, they’ve got the boys pressed up against the wall in the ladies’ room. Skye’s holding hers against the door so nobody else can come in; Jemma has hers against the floor-length mirror. It was all too easy to get them in here – just drop fang, kiss each other, then murmur something about how gosh, they were just feeling awfully hungry. They didn’t even have to glamour them, the boys were happy to help (and probably expecting more of a show, but it wasn’t promised them so it’s not misleading).
It’s the first time Jemma’s tried really properly feeding off anyone since the mishap, which Skye is aware of; she keeps glancing over her shoulder to make sure it’s going okay, that Jemma’s not freaking out, but Jemma seems just fine, she’s even making these delicious little sated noises, and she’s making enough of them that it’s not long before, in answer to the ache that’s started between her legs, Skye is pushing away from her meal to open the door in a hurry, muttering, “Boys. Out.”
Jemma looks up, startled, but she’s quick to notice the look on Skye’s face. She’s slightly more polite to hers than Skye – okay, a lot more polite, for goodness’ sake she actually tells him “thank you” – but she urges him away too. “All done?” she asks Skye, her voice soft and innocent.
“With them,” Skye says, and before Jemma can think anything of it, Skye’s slammed the door, sped over, picked her up, and set her on the counter with her leather skirt hiked up around her waist.
“Is it time for my next present?” Jemma whispers, rubbing her foot up the exposed part of Skye’s inner thigh.
“You bet it is,” Skye declares. She pulls Jemma close, tugs down her panties, presses her hand flat against her sex for a moment. “A nice present for a nice girl. My nice girl, my baby vamp Miss Manners.”
Jemma beams. “Yes, please,” she says, and it sounds like she might be about to continue when Skye drags a fingernail down over her clit to make her moan.
They’re already out of the club and headed down the street, hands entwined, when Jemma snaps out of her postfeeding/postcoital haze.
“Skye,” she murmurs. “We just – we just had sex in the loo.”
“Well, more like I got you off in the loo,” Skye corrects, imitating Jemma’s accent, “but yes.”
“And we drank from those boys,” Jemma adds.
“Yes,” Skye repeats.
“They’re not dead,” Jemma says.
“Well, no, I was watching for that,” Skye replies.
“And then we had sex,” Jemma echoes.
“There’s the play-by-play,” Skye says smugly.
And predictably, Jemma’s got that shocked expression of hers on again. “I… I don’t do things like that,” she attempts.
“You do now,” Skye shrugs. “I mean, if you want to. You did okay with it tonight, nobody’s dead and you got some birthday sex and you’re rocking that corset.”
She’s expecting Jemma to start really panicking, she’s bracing for it, but instead Jemma bursts out laughing. “I did,” she affirms. “Everything’s okay.” This time she’s the one picking Skye up, and it’s by the waist, so she can twirl her in a circle like they’re in an old musical.
“Someone’s happy,” Skye exclaims with a giggle of her own, resting her head against Jemma’s as she gets spun about.
“Of course,” Jemma says. “I’ve fed, I’ve fucked –” She pauses here to revel in her use of the word and let Skye do the same – “It’s my birthday, and I’ve got a beautiful girl in my arms.”
Skye raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, and you should be glad it’s your birthday,” she quips, “I might not let you get away with all this sentimentalism if it wasn’t.”
“If it bothers you too much, darling, take solace in that other tradition,” Jemma coos, setting Skye down and giving her wickedest little smirk before pulling her close.
“Oh-ho,” Skye murmurs in Jemma’s ear. “I see, now that we’ve flirted with exhibitionism you’re a naughty girl.”
“Learned from the best,” Jemma replies, and with that they’re off and running.
They’re plenty disheveled once they’re back to the place that Jemma shares with her brother, both of them laughing wildly, acting not unlike Jemma remembers doing from the couple of times she was drunk in her human life though mostly just from the rush of giddiness. Said brother, of course, notices this immediately.
Also he notices their outfits – Skye’s tight-tight-tight black dress with the cutouts at the neck, Jemma’s leather schoolgirl skirt and sexed-up corset – and he is entirely uncomfortable with this.
“Looks like you two had a good time,” he mutters, turning his head and showily shielding his eyes as they practically skip past him.
“The best,” Jemma calls out blithely.
Both girls step out of their shoes before they reach the stairs, but once they’re there, it’s a race to the bedroom. Granted, it’s one that Skye lets Jemma win, because it’s her birthday, but it’s still enough of a race to count.
“Hands and knees,” Skye says once they’re in and Jemma’s all but bouncing on her bed, her voice dropping low but still managing to retain a bit of playfulness.
Obligingly, Jemma arranges herself just so, sticking her ass out almost defiantly and turning her head to grin in such a way that it completely cancels out any of the attitude.
“I wanna hear you count them,” Skye singsongs. She’s planning on taking it easy, also because it’s Jemma’s birthday, but there are some things that can’t be forgotten.
“Of course,” Jemma murmurs.
“All right, then,” Skye agrees, flipping Jemma’s little skirt up and bringing a hand down against her ass. “Birthday spanking coming right up.”
“One,” Jemma says sweetly.
“Are you expecting another round after this?” Skye asks as she spanks Jemma once again.
“Two!” Jemma shouts, giggling. “Spanks. I’m not counting rounds yet.”
Skye hasn’t been sure of how Jemma will be by the time she reaches twenty-six: either she’ll be more ecstatic than ever, her energy at its peak, or she’ll have calmed down some, slipped into that glassy-eyed state of sexual bliss she can achieve.
Given the way that Jemma mews when Skye tugs her skirt and panties off, then nudges her flat on her back and says, “Okay, birthday girl, how about another present,” it seems like the latter.
“Can I have you this time, please?” Jemma asks.
“Of course you can,” Skye promises, pulling her dress over her head and starting to get in position to go down on Jemma.
“No, no, I mean – I wanna taste you,” Jemma corrects, pouting. “Climb on and let me. Pretty please?”
Well, this hadn’t been a part of Skye’s plan, but she’s also not too proud to refuse it. Besides, the two things aren’t mutually exclusive. So instead of straddling Jemma’s face so she can look down at her, like she knows Jemma likes, she does facing the opposite direction, and before Jemma can argue it (why would she argue it) she braces herself and leans down to lick at Jemma’s sex.
“Oh,” Jemma exclaims, but she gets the hint, and soon she’s mimicking everything Skye does to her, kissing her clit and mouthing at her and humming softly. This, she thinks, makes it just that much sweeter: giving and getting simultaneously.
It also means that after a while they’re almost able to come in unison, their cries muffled against each other’s flesh, and that counts as even more of a present.
“I can’t tell,” Jemma mumbles into Skye’s hair, “if I’m exhausted because it’s almost sunrise or because you’ve had me in half a dozen ways tonight.”
“My bet would be on the sex,” Skye smirks. She presses a feather-light kiss to the skin of Jemma’s shoulder, pulls her even closer. “I’m guessing you’re happy about that, though.”
“Oh, yes,” Jemma agrees, nodding. “All in all, it was the best human birthday I could have asked for.”
“Good,” Skye says. “That’s kinda what I was going for.”