Archive of Our Own ^beta

Up all night, I won't quit
I'm gonna steal you from him
I could be such a gentleman

Boyfriend - Dove Cameron 

(a sapphic love story, but god her voice, this song? chef's kiss)

Buzz, buzz, buzz. 

Tim managed to pry one eye open, his face smushed into a pillow. His body ached, and he could already feel the tension radiating from his lower back from the position he found himself. 

He was disoriented in the dim lights of the city filtering in through shades that were familiar but not intimately so. 

Where was he?

Buzz, buzz, buzz. 

His palm made contact with the fabric of the sofa he found himself snoozing on, and he pushed himself up, arching his shoulders back like a cat and stretching himself out. 

Lucy’s couch. 

That was decidedly her art; her teal sofa, empty bottles of beer laid on the floor by his head, an open bottle of tequila resting on her coffee table. 

Shit. 

Buzz, buzz, buzz. 

Tim sat down, his hands groping over his torso, his thighs, scooping under his ass to his pockets, searching for his phone that was surely what was buzzing.

 Finally spotting his phone on the opposite end of the couch, he reached for it, snatching it out from underneath half the couch cushion. No dice. Not buzzing.

Buzz, buzz, buzz. 

“What the fuck?” He whispered under his breath, his eyes scanning over a goodnight text sent from Ashley at 11:37PM. 

He cringed a little, catching the time as after 3 in the morning, and dropped his phone back to the couch. Shit, he was tired and groggy. He licked his lips, tasting the hops of beer and salt he’d chased shots of the agave with and suddenly his breath escaped him. 

Lucy’s. Lucy. He’d kissed her. She’d kissed him. Oh, fuck. 

Buzz, buzz, buzz. 

He stood, too quickly, and wobbled unsteadily on his feet as he looked around her living room. He kissed Lucy. He’d kissed her a lot. For practice. 

“Fuck.” He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face in hopes to clear his mental fog and push that feeling back into the box in the back of his mind. 

He stepped carefully over the bottles littering the floor, gently nudging his overshirt out of his way as he made his way towards the bathroom. The buzzing continued to be a symphony in his ears as he finished up, grabbing Lucy’s (and Tamara’s) toothbrush and checking to see if it was the source of the buzz, buzz, buzz. 

He splashed cold water over his face, blinking away the beginning ebb of a hangover from alcohol and the mental fatigue of kissing his friend.

And enjoying it. 

The memory of Ashley’s text sent a zing of guilt through his veins and he turned away from his reflection, unwilling to confront that feeling head on at three in the morning. 

He returned to his mission of identifying the fucking annoying sound of buzzing, pulling open drawers and opening cabinets and coming up fruitless. His eyes lingered on the door that led to Lucy’s bedroom but he hesitated. 

It could be work. 

If she felt like he did, she’d be in no condition to get called in. 

But if no one heard from her, they’d worry after that happened. With Rosalind’s trial coming up, the memory was fresh.

His fingers clenched into fists as he warred internally. To go in? To not go in?

Buzz, buzz, buzz. 

“Fucking Christ.” He hissed, pulling the door open and squinting his eyes so he could make his way in the dark. “Sleeping like the goddamn dead.” 

He listened intently, his eyes taking in the sight of her tucked into her bed, a strand of hair blowing away from her mouth before being sucked back with her breath. His insides twinged as his eyes adjusted further to the dark and his ears led his footsteps to her nightstand. 

His brows furrowed as his hands met the top of the stand, only wood connecting with his fingers. No phone. 

Lucy would be the kind of person to put their phone in a drawer so she couldn’t scroll mindlessly before bed. 

His index finger found the knob and he curled it around the metal, slowly, quietly, pulled the drawer opening, flinching when the sound of buzzing was no longer dull. 

“Shh, shh, shh.” He shushed at the buzz, buzz, buzz that greeted him. 

His hand reached blindly into the drawer, connecting with books and trinkets before he was able to find the source of buzzing. His fingers wrapped around silicone and he felt a moment of confusion before his brain caught up with his hand and he released it quickly. 

Bang. 

“Shit!” He hissed, flinching as it landed back in the drawer, the buzz, buzz, buzz sounding like a chorus of laughter at his blunder. 

He grasped it again, pulling it out of the drawer and turning his back on Lucy quickly, fumbling with her fucking vibrator in his hands as he searched for the power button. He pressed blindly, the vibrating changing tempos, growing louder and quieter and abrupt. His skin was so warm, he was so flustered and so he tugged at the collar of his tshirt with his hand, trying to cool himself. He fumbled again when the vibrator connected with his jaw as he tried to cool away his embarrassment by tugging at his shirt and he let out another panicked groan. 

“Thank god.” He sighed when he finally managed to turn it off. 

He turned quickly, his arm extended, to place her toy back in the drawer so he could take what was left of his dignity and get the fuck out of there. 

“What are you doing?”

If Tim was on shift, he’d clock his time of death as this moment. 

His heart jumped into his throat and he choked on air as it vanished from his lungs when his eyes settled on her sitting up in her bed, watching him through sleepy eyes. His jaw dropped, his eyes unwittingly dropping from her face, down the slope of her neck, and landing on the swell of her breasts that her tank top exposed. 

“I, uh, I…” he said, his eyes darting from her flesh and to the fucking vibrator in his hand and back to her face in panic. “This isn’t—I wasn’t—this isn’t what it looks like. Fuck!” He groaned, tossing it to her bed, watching as it landed in her lap. 

Lucy looked away from him, her eyes focusing on her lap. “Is that my…?”

“Fuck! Yes.” He said desperately, scraping his hands over his face in panic before he realized he’d just had his hands all over her toy. 

His cock twitched in his jeans and he quickly removed his hands from his face. 

“Buzzing woke me up. I thought it was my phone. Then maybe a toothbrush? Your phone?” His voice had an edge of pleading to it. “I thought, I don’t fucking know, Lucy, shit. I’m sorry.”

“Huh.” She hummed quietly, her fingers curling around the base of her toy. “It turns on by itself sometimes.” 

Tim would be lying if he said his eyes weren’t in a committed relationship with watching her thumb swipe over the buttons that seemed so obvious now. “Oh.” He murmured, feeling dumb and panicked and horny. 

“It’s old… but it’s reliable.” Lucy continued like he wasn’t standing beside her bed, watching her handle her vibrator. Her finger pressed down on the power and the buzz, buzz, buzz that had been an annoyance in his ears suddenly didn’t have the same sting. “Reminds me of someone I know.”

Lucy sighed as she settled back into her pillows. Tim didn’t know what to do, where to look, where to go. The soles of his feet had taken root on the wood floor of her bedroom, and he felt as stoic and hard as a redwood. 

“Someone you know?” He questioned.

“Mhm…” 

Tim’s eyes watched as the head of her toy cock nudged the fabric of her blanket down her torso to pool over the tops of her thighs. “A hard worker.” She continued, and Tim’s heart seized in his chest as the vibrating, pulsing toy made contact with the top of her pussy through her panties. 

“Lucy…” he trailed off, his fingers clenching in the denim over his thighs. “What are you…?”

“You don’t want to see?” She asked, her thighs falling open to accept the vibrations over the gusset of her underwear. 

“I… I…” he choked, his eyes darting to her bedroom door before coming back to her. “I shouldn’t…”

“Hmm, okay.” 

Tim’s feet broke free of the floor’s chokehold but directed him to her bed, sitting down at her knees. “Show me.” He whispered, his hands hovering over her bare thighs before taking the flesh into his grip. “Show me what a hard worker it is.” 

Lucy’s tongue snuck out of her mouth, wetting her lips as she maintained eye contact with him. “Help me?” She asked, lifting her hips off the mattress. 

He let out a deep breath through his mouth, his hands scraping over the fabric of her panties on her hips, hooking into the elastic waist. He paused before he slowly pulled them down, his hands scraping underneath the fabric and cupping her ass in his palms, his knuckles helping the cotton disappear from her skin. 

Tim’s mouth watered at the sight of her pussy, bare and right there in front of him as he flung her panties across the room. “Shit.” He groaned, his thumbs rubbing circles over the inside of her thighs. “Show me, please. Fuck, Lucy, show me.” 

Lucy notched the vibrator against her clit, a soft sound of pleasure escaping her throat. “I usually watch something.” She said as she rolled her hips in a circle. 

His eyes snapped to hers, locking himself into a staring contest with her. Was she…? “You watch something?”

“Mhm…” she confirmed, flicking her wrist and pressing her vibrator against her pussy, dipping just shallowly enough to gather wetness to stroke over her. “Take your shirt off.”

His head ducked in surprise at her forwardness but he supposed they were already crossing a line and had already crossed one earlier. “Okay.” He said quietly, his hand reaching behind his neck and pulling his tshirt up and over his head. 

Her nostrils flared as she took in the sight of his chest bared for her viewing pleasure. “Yeah…” she whispered with a nod. 

Tim’s eyes were torn between watching the hand between her thighs and the hand sliding up her stomach, pushing the fabric of her tank top up her skin and exposing her chest to him. Unconsciously licking his lips at the sight, he slipped the button his jeans free, lowering the zipper. 

He sighed in relief as the pressure of denim became less on his cock, and returned his palms to her legs. “You look so good.” He whispered. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He confirmed, his fingers gently curling around her hand holding her vibrator, not wanting to break the moment. “Your pussy is so greedy, so wet.” 

Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip as their hands guided her vibrator into her pussy, the clit stimulator sitting flush against the nerves between her thighs. “Oh, god.” 

“You take this so good.” He shifted so his knee settled between her legs, propping himself up with his other hand as he guided her in fucking her vibrator into her. “Tell me what you watch. Tell me what you fuck yourself to when I’m not here, Lucy.” 

Lucy’s knees bent, the soles of her feet planting flat against her mattress, her legs falling further open to make room for him between them. She undulated her hips in movements to match the tempo of thrusts Tim was guiding her toy to. Her free hand groped at her tits, thumbing her nipples between her fingers, drawing his eyes away from her pussy and their hands. 

“Answer me,” he demanded, snapping his wrist roughly and eliciting stars to explode behind her eyelids. 

“Oh my god, shit.” She moaned, grip slackening underneath his, her hips giving a jerky shake as her orgasm flooded her veins. 

“Jesus,” he groaned, dropping the vibrator to the bed, the buzz, buzz, buzz muffled by the blankets. His hand connected with her pussy, his thumb toying with the fleshy nub of her clit as his fingers curled into her. “You are a gusher. Fuck.”

Lucy’s hands clenched at her bedsheets, her hips thrusting against his hand. “Tim, oh my god. I can’t, Tim— shit.”

Lucy’s hands flew to his head in surprise, her fingertips digging into his skin when he moved suddenly, forcing her knees to hook over his shoulders, locking his face against her pussy.   She wasn’t ready, or prepared, for his mouth to suddenly be between her legs, licking and sucking at her pussy the way he was, groaning against her skin like he hadn’t had a meal in days. 

Her breaths were a staccato, sharp and inconsistent as his tongue swiped over the length of her slit, his nose burrowing against her clit, the friction and pressure building a symphony under her skin. 

“Tim—“

“Give me it, Lucy. Right on my tongue.” 

It felt like a divine visit from being her training officer years ago; he gave a command and she followed it. She fell apart over his tongue, his fingers; his mouth taking everything she had to give him. 

His cock ached and leaned against his boxers, and he felt like he’d come just from his head being buried between her thighs. 

Lucy’s legs dropped from his shoulders, her hands quickly grabbing at his biceps. “Come here.” She insisted, tugging at his arms. 

He followed her command and crawled up her body, settling his weight over her. They stared at each other, the only sounds in the room, the sirens of the city below them, their breathing and the faint buzzing of her vibrator that had fallen to the floor, the battery slowly dying. 

Fringes of her hair were stuck to her face from sweat and he couldn’t stop himself for swiping his hand over her forehead, pushing her baby hairs back. “Lucy…” he whispered, his face dropping, the tip of his nose brushing against hers. 

Lucy’s hands slid over the muscles over his back, her fingers slipping underneath his loose jeans and boxers and gripping the flesh of his ass. “We shouldn’t…” she whispered, the pillow of her lip catching against his Cupid’s bow. 

“It’s a bad idea.” He agreed, his tongue wetting his lips and accidentally ghosting over hers. 

Nevertheless, Lucy pushed at his bottoms and he raised his hips away from her, helping her push them down his legs, kicking his feet free. His eyes searched hers, looking for direction, for words, for regret, for no. 

She tilted her mouth up, their lips colliding roughly, sloppily. She moaned into his mouth, her legs curling around his hips as his hips flexed against her, his cock slipping through the after of her orgasms. 

He curled his hands over the back of her scalp, holding her to him as her hands slipped between them, holding his cock steady, notching his head against her. He stole her breath from her lungs as he sunk into her at her guidance. He breathed life back into her as he pulled back before pushing forward again, a soft groan escaping him. 

She ate his groans with her lips, her tongue sliding against his, her hands gripping at his ass, holding him to her as he clutched her. It was their first dance but their bodies knew each other; dipped and rolled, curved and arched in a synchronized dance they had quickly memorized the steps to. 

Lucy’s hands left his ass, tracing the bands of muscles that kept him perched over her, taught and tense, before slipping against the buzz at the nape of his neck. 

She broke her mouth away from his, her eyes flying open, watching as his brows furrowed and his lips pursed. The tension in his mouth ticked his jaw in a new way that Lucy wanted to memorize. His breath was moist and heavy, short and raspy, and hitched when her hips rolled against his, her stomach tightening, her pussy reluctant to let him go. 

“Fuck—“ he breathed, his eyes snapping to hers, catching her mouth again in a kiss before he moaned low, deep, vibrating through his skin and into the sinews of her body. “I—I’m so close. I’m so close, baby—Lucy—“

She cupped his jaw in her palms, her thumbs wiping away sweat drilling from his forehead. Their eyes locked, his body the key to unlocking everything and she broke again around him, a raspy gasp that broke the chords of tension and set him off like a broken rubber band. 

He grunted, his head dropping into the crook of her neck and shoulder as his hips continued to thrust to a broken melody. 

Lucy burrowed into her pillows, her fingers curled into the hair on his head, stroking patterns against his skin as he caught his breath. She hummed quietly, letting her legs fall against the bedding but continuing to bracket his hips. 

Her vibrator let out one last, pitiful buzz on the floor before it finally fell silent. 

“Is it dead?” Tim asked, peering over the edge of the bed, purple silicone laying silently against the floor. 

“Probably.” 

“Hopefully unlike someone you know.”

She laughed underneath him, jostling him gently, but otherwise remained quiet. He pressed kisses against her collar bone and throat when the thoughts occurred to him to do it while he could. His lips made a deep acquaintance with the ink on her neck, committing it to memory with his tongue. 

Tim would have thought she’d fallen asleep if she hadn’t continued rubbing her hands over his skin, scalp to waist, lulling him into a state of not quite sleeping. 

“What now?” She asked as dawn began announcing itself through the gap in her curtains. 

“I have to break up with Ashley.” He said, finally rolling off of her and letting his back sink into her mattress. “Can’t… can’t be with her after this.” He swallowed heavily, his eyes focusing on the fabric of her canopy. “And… and you? What are you…?”

Tim didn’t let himself look away from the ceiling. His chest was tight with anticipation, hope, but the pit of dread gnawed at his stomach, reminding him that he shouldn’t wish for good things. 

“I mean, I—Chris is nice .” Tim’s throat felt infinitely smaller, and he willed himself to continue breathing. “But it’s not… he’s not… you.” 

Tim blinked quickly, turning his head to look at her. “Me?”

She nodded, her hair smushed against her face as it moved against her pillowcase. “You.”

“Fuck,” he sighed, his breath coming out in a quick exhale. “Thank god.” 

no beta. no real plot. still feelings. i am who i am.

thank you for reading.