Passion Fruit Purple
Many permutations and she gets stuck with this: drunk girl, lax legs, lips that trace the curvature of her neck, all in all not a bad place to be. It feels weird, no stubble, no gritty gritty of boy-skin, but for the moment it would do. Chloe moans something and Lana wonders if she should stop taking advantage of this situation. She wasn't hating this as much as her straight-laced, perfect existence would lead her to believe.
She wonders, briefly, if she's shifted into the parallel universe where she was the lusty porn cheerleader with creative uses for her pom-poms and Chloe was the intrepid reporter out for the real story on sorority girls and initiation.
Not that she minded, of course, Chloe had quite the oral fixation; all those sucking on pens and chewing on bottle caps had done the girl good. She hisses in a breath when Chloe drags her teeth across the curve of Lana's ear, hisses in again when she feels wet fingers press against her stomach.
Nell had pressed two hundred into her palm, entreating with a salacious grin that she would use it for a good time down at the lake, loosen her shoelaces and hit the town. Being the good girl, Lana had hemmed and hawed, blushing when Nell further suggested choice bars which were lax with the rules. "It's nothing like that!" Lana had argued, blushing.
"Yeah," Laughed Chloe, shouldering her bag brimming with writing utensils, "It's research for the Talon: special on Spring Break; I roped the gang into suffering along with me."
Nell had nodded, unbelieving, and waved from the doorway as they droved off, spring break on the horizon, finals in the dust.
Being the only two girls, Chloe and Lana took over the back seat, trying on each others make up and all sorts of girly things that caused Clark and Pete to roll their eyes and blast the music louder. "This is the best ever," Enthused Chloe, lining Lana's lips with Passion Fruit Purple, "Like, think party in your mouth but gloss all night long!" Clark had grinned at Pete and Chloe just rolled her eyes, concentrating on the curves of the other girl's lips.
The car had hit a bump just as she was closing off the line, and Lana was blessed with a Passion Fruit Purple beauty mark on her chin. Before either girl was thinking, Chloe licked her finger and wiped it off.
Lana still doesn't remember who sucked in a breath first, but it suddenly got very, very warm. The other girl's eyes were dark: liquid almost and when the car hit another pothole and Chloe landed in her lap, Lana had to fight down the shiver that came inexplicably quick.
Clark ignores Chloe and her low cut purple blouse and Purple Passion Lips, taking shots with Pete and painfully hitting on an embarrassed Lana. When Lana doesn't put up with it anymore, telling Clark to go back to the hotel and get some sleep, Chloe follows her: cheeks burning red, eyes flashing.
Backroom and Lana cuts her off, telling Chloe to shut up even before she begins, "Forget him," She tells the girl with alcohol-induced clarity, "He's not worth it." And Chloe nods despite herself, she nods and she sinks to the couch.
"Some trip this turned out to be," She whines, "Teen angst and drama queen-age, this is not how it was supposed to be."
"It's about the research, of course," Lana tries with awkward levity, "Just think of the material you're getting for your article!"
Chloe just rolls her eyes, but before she can retort someone stumbles in the room. It takes the girls a moment to realize it's two someones: a boy and girl in various states of arousal. Lana and Chloe excuse themselves a little late, catching brief flashes of skin and lust before getting out the door.
Lana loses sight of Chloe's blonde hair in the mass of people and they do not find each other until hours later when Chloe's had a few shots and Lana's had just enough not to care.
Chloe will get dizzy and Lana will lead her to the vacated backroom, where the she will stumble against the couch, tripping against the carpet. Lana will let herself sink in beside her, let their thighs brush and arms tangle.
A hiss of breath and Chloe will be all over her, letting Lana taste the Passion Fruit purple and the tequila on her lips, whispering into her mouth about all the boys she couldn't kiss.
Maybe it's too late to shift back to normal; to go back to where she wasn't letting Chloe lick salt off her neck. Tequila and Lime and Chloe angry made for a very good time for Lana. She wonders if she should feel guilty, taking advantage like this. Chloe mutters something about school, about the Torch, about the deadlines and photos that needed pasting and cropping and straightening. Lana lets her fingers push through Chloe's blonde head, lets them twist into the strands, pushing the girl closer to her neck.
"You taste funny," giggles Chloe into her chin, "Sweet...yummy, like-" She takes another lick and giggles again, "-Purple." Breath tickles Lana's ears, painfully warm against her cheek.
A hand roams between them, and it takes a moment for Lana to realize it's hers: pushing up Chloe's shirt, settling into a rhythm of squeeze, let go, squeeze, let go. Another twist and Chloe is under her, finding the crook of Lana's neck a good place to be, "We shouldn't be doing this," Says Chloe, while mimicking Lana's roving hands, "We shouldn't be doing this at all-"
Fingers tighten, and Lana is tonguing the roof of the girl's mouth, "Shut up," she whispers, "Shut the fuck up."