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English
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Published:
2013-07-09
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1,188
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1/1
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the way we are

Summary:

Everything changes but we're still the same. [Franky/Erica post-Wentworth]

Work Text:

Erica hears the front door swing open and closed from where she lounges on the couch, sipping a glass of wine and reading through a brief for her next court case.

 

“Hey babe! You better be naked 'cause I've had a properly shit day!”

 

Franky's voice floats in from the entryway, somehow both exasperated and amused. She's like that a lot these days; like she's exhausted but happy about it. Erica remembers her own days as a junior associate and understands. Everyone always demanding so much from you, the competition among co-workers, the long hours, always getting the worst jobs... She knows Franky loves it though, even if she whines about it at every opportunity. She knows Franky gets off on proving she's smarter than everyone else. It's why Erica had put in a good word for her with the partners, subtly pushed her ahead of the other applicants.

 

“Busy?” Erica murmurs as Franky leans over the back of the couch to press a kiss to her forehead.

 

“God, you would not believe! I didn't think I'd ever get to leave!” Franky flops down next to her, propping her feet on the coffee table. Erica nudges them to the floor absent-mindedly, just like every other time.

 

“I know, babe. Being the new kid sucks. It'll get better though, I promise.”

 

Franky just huffs and moves to lean against her side, resting her head on Erica's shoulder.

 

“I'm stressed. And annoyed at all those pretentious idiots at the firm. I need some... release.”

 

Erica can hear the smirk in Franky's voice, doesn't even need to look to confirm it. She knows exactly what's in Franky's mind; always has, really. Their circumstances have changed (pretty drastically) but that hasn't. Franky's softer round the edges now, fights with her brain instead of her fists, but she's still the same person.

 

“Franky...” Erica says and it feels so very familiar. Franky pushing and Erica resisting until she can't.

 

“Erica.” Franky's smirk widens as she takes the wine glass from Erica's hand and places it on the coffee table (shooting Erica a smug look when she remembers to place it on a coaster - this time).

 

“I thought you were tired.” Erica can't help the way her eyes glance down at Franky's lips, and then down further still to the V of Franky's white button-up shirt. (That had taken some getting used to- Franky in smart suits- but Erica found she rather liked it.)

 

Franky just hums in response as pushes Erica down on the couch and climbs above her, one knee either side of Erica's hips. Just the weight of Franky over her makes Erica's whole body flush with instant heat and she's amazed, again, how Franky still does it for her. Back when they first met, Erica had always told herself that the lust would fade over time, like it always had with her boyfriends, but years down the line and Franky's body and nearness still drive her crazy.

 

Erica's breath catches in her throat as Franky pins her arms above her head, one hand holding her wrists together, and starts placing kisses along her neck. Franky licks and bites, careful not to leave a mark, working her way down across Erica's collarbones and her chest. Erica pushes against Franky's hand around her wrists, trying to get free so she can respond in kind.

 

“Now, now, Miss Davidson. You know the rules.”

 

Erica rolls her eyes at the choice of name even as the want coils tighter in the pit of her stomach and makes her squirm in her place on the couch. (That had been another surprise to Erica; she'd always assumed, at the beginning, that their power-play came from their positions at Wentworth, and the illicitness of it all. Now they share a home and the battle for control is still as rampant and intoxicating as ever. They bring it out in each other, no matter where or when.)

 

Erica stops protesting against Franky's grip and relaxes under her. Franky mumbles a “Good girl.” against her sternum in response, making Erica flush in spite of herself, and shoots her a pointed look as she lets go of Erica's wrists; a silent command that Erica will always obey. She opens the buttons on Erica's shirt, kissing her way down newly-exposed skin. Erica arches under her, trying for more, and Franky sits up as she pushes Erica back down with firm hands on her ribcage. Erica's breath goes shallow and she tests grinding her hips up into the weight of Franky above her. She doesn't miss the way Franky's eyes slide closed, just for a second, before she regains her composure and pins Erica's arms back on either side of her head.

 

Franky takes her time leaving kisses and bite marks and trails of her tongue over Erica's torso. Erica screws her eyes closed tight and focuses on the feel of Franky on her skin, as right now as it always felt. She knows it shouldn't work, the two of them. Her friends don't get it (and the less said about her family, the better), but she knows the truth of it. Their pasts mean nothing, their upbringings are irrelevant. They connect with each other on the most fundamental of levels; everyday Erica feels that pull towards Franky in the core of her being, the one she has felt since that very first meeting. Erica doesn't believe in soul mates (and she's certain Franky would never admit to something so sentimental), but there is a perfect correlation between her and Franky that cannot be denied. She knows, somehow, that no other person would be able to satisfy her as completely as Franky does. Franky has always seen right through the façade and to the real person below, just as Erica has in return.

 

Franky's hand sliding beneath the waistband of her pants shakes Erica from her thoughts and she's suddenly very aware of every inch of Franky's body and the feel of her fingers between her thighs. Her desire is embarrassingly evident and Franky smirks up at her. Erica decides against any pretence of resistance.

 

“Franky, please...”

 

Franky's eyes shine with pleasure, the way they always do when Erica begs for it. Her fingers begin to move with intent, she pins Erica's hands back above her head with the other hand, forcing Erica's body to press against hers in the most delicious way. Franky's breath is hot and heavy on Erica's ear as she whispers wicked things against her skin. Franky tells her about how she owns her, about all the things she's going to do to her that night, about the marks she's going to leave on Erica's skin where no one can see. Erica's body is on fire, the way only Franky can make her, and she begs for her release.

 

Erica comes hard against Franky's hand, Franky's voice in her ear full of promises she knows she'll keep. A rush of affection combined with the lust that still pulses through her veins is almost overwhelming. Erica wraps her arms around Franky and holds herself very still against the feeling.