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scurvyknaveryOriginally posted 25 August, 2008.
Title: Same As Two (But Better)
Fandom: HSM RPF
Word Count: 726
Pairing: V / A / Z
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Toothbrush hanging out of the corner of her mouth, V pads into the bedroom in her sock feet, and she can't help but smile.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, none of this is real, I don't know these people.
It's three thirty in the morning when V finally gets home. She doesn't want to talk about it.
She will, tomorrow, when she's slept and had coffee and showered off the grime of ten hours stuck in an airport waiting for a five hour flight, but not right now. Right now, all V wants to do is throw her bags by the door and collapse.
Exhaustion is no excuse for poor dental hygiene, though, especially not when those teeth get photographed in high-resolution from the parking lot outside Coffee Bean on a weekly basis, so she manages to kick off her shoes and stumble into the bathroom. She's not being as quiet as she'd like, but she's quiet enough that she's not going to wake anybody up, which is all that really matters.
Toothbrush hanging out of the corner of her mouth, V pads into the bedroom in her sock feet, and she can't help but smile. (Carefully - the last thing she wants to do is clean toothpaste off the carpet in the dark.) Because A is there, spread out over most of the bed like a princess, one leg tangled with Z's, and it's probably the most comforting thing V's seen all day.
Z's got his own little bit of the bed, of course, fast asleep and so fucking pretty, even with his mouth half open and his nose squished against the pillow, that V can hardly stand it. He's got his one hand curled absently around A's waist, tugging at the spot where her tank top meets her shorts, like he just wants to make sure she's still there.
And it's not weird.
Not because Z's the kind of Casanova who has to keep the boxspring a-rocking even when V's not around - he still gets flustered figuring out bras, for fuck's sake - but just because it's Z and A. Well, Z and A and V, when none of them are away doing shows or smiling politely for the press, and they just all belong here. Together. Not as lovers (although sometimes, they have sex) and not as friends (because that word isn't quite big enough), but just together.
Vanessa wanders back to the bathroom to spit and rinse off her toothbrush, and for a moment she pauses over the sink and lets herself think about how much she wants to crawl into bed with them right now. She thinks about the way Z would grumble something and pull her close, clumsy and stronger than he'd mean, because that's how Z gets when he's tired. She thinks about A's girly little sigh, and the way she'd snuggle into the curve of V's neck and try (but not that hard) to stop hogging the bed quite so much.
There's a big part of V that wants to be selfish enough to do just that.
But then she thinks about how snuggling in between the two of them would wake them up, make them want to ask things like what time is it and how was your trip and why are you getting in so late, is everything okay?.
(And she thinks about A - how possessive she sometimes gets, and how much she probably needs one more night where someone feels like just hers, instead of hers and.)
Besides, if she wakes the two of them up now, she'll miss what she knows is going to happen tomorrow.
She'll miss A walking into the kitchen in her pyjamas, bedheaded and barefoot and jumping onto the couch to wake V up, like ninety-six pounds of labrador retriever puppy. She'll miss Z draping himself over the back of the couch, laughing at the two of them and offering to cook the only thing he knows how to make (dry cereal), while V gets to grin and trace the shape of his arms like she's never noticed them before.
(And then, of course, will come the kissing. The kind that goes with lazy, fumbling, let's-not-get-dressed-until-noon makeout sessions, and those are are absolutely what V deserves after a day like today.)
Which is why V kicks off her socks and squirms out of her jacket before settling in on the couch, instead of crawling into bed right now.
She's pretty sure tomorrow morning will make one night alone all worth it, anyway.
Title: Same As Two (But Better)
Fandom: HSM RPF
Word Count: 726
Pairing: V / A / Z
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Toothbrush hanging out of the corner of her mouth, V pads into the bedroom in her sock feet, and she can't help but smile.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, none of this is real, I don't know these people.
It's three thirty in the morning when V finally gets home. She doesn't want to talk about it.
She will, tomorrow, when she's slept and had coffee and showered off the grime of ten hours stuck in an airport waiting for a five hour flight, but not right now. Right now, all V wants to do is throw her bags by the door and collapse.
Exhaustion is no excuse for poor dental hygiene, though, especially not when those teeth get photographed in high-resolution from the parking lot outside Coffee Bean on a weekly basis, so she manages to kick off her shoes and stumble into the bathroom. She's not being as quiet as she'd like, but she's quiet enough that she's not going to wake anybody up, which is all that really matters.
Toothbrush hanging out of the corner of her mouth, V pads into the bedroom in her sock feet, and she can't help but smile. (Carefully - the last thing she wants to do is clean toothpaste off the carpet in the dark.) Because A is there, spread out over most of the bed like a princess, one leg tangled with Z's, and it's probably the most comforting thing V's seen all day.
Z's got his own little bit of the bed, of course, fast asleep and so fucking pretty, even with his mouth half open and his nose squished against the pillow, that V can hardly stand it. He's got his one hand curled absently around A's waist, tugging at the spot where her tank top meets her shorts, like he just wants to make sure she's still there.
And it's not weird.
Not because Z's the kind of Casanova who has to keep the boxspring a-rocking even when V's not around - he still gets flustered figuring out bras, for fuck's sake - but just because it's Z and A. Well, Z and A and V, when none of them are away doing shows or smiling politely for the press, and they just all belong here. Together. Not as lovers (although sometimes, they have sex) and not as friends (because that word isn't quite big enough), but just together.
Vanessa wanders back to the bathroom to spit and rinse off her toothbrush, and for a moment she pauses over the sink and lets herself think about how much she wants to crawl into bed with them right now. She thinks about the way Z would grumble something and pull her close, clumsy and stronger than he'd mean, because that's how Z gets when he's tired. She thinks about A's girly little sigh, and the way she'd snuggle into the curve of V's neck and try (but not that hard) to stop hogging the bed quite so much.
There's a big part of V that wants to be selfish enough to do just that.
But then she thinks about how snuggling in between the two of them would wake them up, make them want to ask things like what time is it and how was your trip and why are you getting in so late, is everything okay?.
(And she thinks about A - how possessive she sometimes gets, and how much she probably needs one more night where someone feels like just hers, instead of hers and.)
Besides, if she wakes the two of them up now, she'll miss what she knows is going to happen tomorrow.
She'll miss A walking into the kitchen in her pyjamas, bedheaded and barefoot and jumping onto the couch to wake V up, like ninety-six pounds of labrador retriever puppy. She'll miss Z draping himself over the back of the couch, laughing at the two of them and offering to cook the only thing he knows how to make (dry cereal), while V gets to grin and trace the shape of his arms like she's never noticed them before.
(And then, of course, will come the kissing. The kind that goes with lazy, fumbling, let's-not-get-dressed-until-noon makeout sessions, and those are are absolutely what V deserves after a day like today.)
Which is why V kicks off her socks and squirms out of her jacket before settling in on the couch, instead of crawling into bed right now.
She's pretty sure tomorrow morning will make one night alone all worth it, anyway.