Chapter Text
It all started with a phone call.
“Oh my God Robin,” Eddie's voice echoed down the phone line, getting more and more riled up, clearly exasperated with all her doubts, “it's LA, it's the music industry. Everyone is fucking everyone in every possible combination and no one gives a shit.”
“I don't know Eddie…”
“Look, you can stay in no-fucking-where Indiana, crushing on straight girls and being miserable or you can come here to the bright lights, sunset strip, and actually get laid.”
She twisted the phone cord between her fingers, thanking her lucky stars that she was alone for this particular conversation.
“It's all right for you, dorkus, you’ll sleep with anyone. You have options.”
“Rude. I have standards too, you know. And don't change the subject. I mean what’s stopping you? Did you know there are no unhappy lesbians here. Want to know why?”
Robin groaned. “I seriously doubt that but ok, I’ll bite, why?”
“Because ninety percent of girls wear a bikini everywhere and they are all fucking each other. Now stop resisting and come and have some fun for once in your life! And bring Steve, he must have fucked every available woman under thirty in a twenty mile radius by now. It's time he tried something new too.”
“Jesus Christ, Eddie. I think I prefer when dingus starts going on about boobies.”
“Look, I miss you guys. Are you going to make me beg?”
She didn't make him beg. And that's why she's sitting next to Steve in this club. Over two thousand miles away from home. Wearing a borrowed Metallica t-shirt and surrounded by more leather and lace and skin than she's ever seen in one place.
“Here you go!”
Three bottles clink as Eddie deposits them onto the table. He's grinning really wide, has been ever since they arrived at the door of his tiny little studio apartment. It's infectious in its joy, and she grins back. Even the obviously uncomfortable Steve manages a genuine smile in return. Honestly, she hasn't seen Eddie this happy since the day they told him Creel was dead, and Hopper’s shady government contact got all the charges against him dropped. His happiness makes any amount of social discomfort worth it. Even if she's pretty sure, despite Eddie's confidence, that not a single girl in this place will give her a second look. Unless it's to wonder what on earth she’s doing here, of course.
The music pounds around them. Wailing guitars. Frenetic drums. Growling and screeching vocals. Somehow they still manage to carry a shouted conversation, or Eddie does. Occasionally someone will come along and tap him on the shoulder, and he introduces them. No one looks at them with anything more than polite disinterest.
“So, anyway,” Eddie's busy recounting what he claims is their wildest gig so far, “when I shoved the second drunk asshole off the stage the crowd just…”
Whatever the crowd did gets lost as a slim, shirtless guy barges between them.
“Eddie!” he exclaims drunkenly, collapsing dramatically across Eddie's lap.
“Jesus Christ, Lee,” Eddie rolls his eyes at the interloper. But he doesn't shove him away, she notices. His hand rests on the guy's leg, high up his thigh, fingers making wrinkles in his tight black leather pants. She's expecting some kind of smart comment from Steve, but he suddenly looks very interested in his beer. Odd.
“I missed you! Where have you been,” the guy whines, interrupting Eddie's attempted introduction. Totally ignoring them, he leans in and kisses Eddie's cheek.
“Around.” Eddie throws his head back, getting himself out of the firing line of another kiss. “Now fuck off, I’m talking to my friends,” he says, good-naturedly.
The other guy sighs, but doesn't protest when Eddie pushes him off his lap. Steve freezes, his beer half-way to his mouth. She follows the path of his gaze to find it's stuck on Eddie's hand against the guy's bare skin.
And, ok, he's being kind of obnoxious but what is up with Steve? He's never reacted this way with her. Quite the opposite, he practically threw her at Vickie. Cheered when it seemed to be working out, and commiserated like any friend would when she left for college with barely a backward glance.
“Bye Eddie's friends!” the guy calls, sauntering off into the crowd, “see you around.”
“We’re not here to get in your way,” Steve grumbles. He's looking down again, shredding the wet label off his beer bottle. She kicks his shins under the table and it makes him glare at her, cheeks a little pinker than normal.
“Don't you worry Steve,” Eddie says easily, ignoring his attitude, “I’m good.” He gestures at her with his beer bottle. “Today is all about getting Buckley laid.”
Of course, he had to say it just as she took a sip. His words make her choke on her beer.
“Eddie, I don't think that's going to happen here,” she says when she recovers.
“What? Didn't you hear me on the phone?”
“I did, but, I mean, I have eyes. I don't think I’m the kind of girl anyone here is looking for.”
Eddie shakes his head. “No offence, Buckley, but you're talking shit, and I won't have it.”
She opens her mouth, but he doesn't let her speak.
“I’m serious!” he insists. “So you're not a metalhead, who cares. You’ve got hometown charm going for you and believe me that is just as good.” Eddie's eyes flick to Steve, like he's waiting for backup, but he's just staring black at him with a dumb look on his face. Eddie shakes his head.
“And you’ve got a secret weapon that no one else here has,” he says, leaning in conspiratorially.
“What?”
“Me,” he gestures to himself with a smug grin. “I'm one hell of a wingman. So, have a look around, anyone take your fancy?”
“But what if they're not…”
“Don't worry about that, just take a look and I’ll tell you if you're barking up the right tree.”
With a dutiful sigh, Robin casts her gaze around. She's about to turn back to her friends, too overwhelmed by the sheer number of people, when the crowd shifts and moves and a girl wearing a neon pink mesh top over a black bra appears. Strutting through the huddle like she owns the place. Torn fishnets covering her legs, drawing Robin's eyes up from big black boots to a black leather miniskirt covered in silver jangling chains. Her hair teased out into a wild tangle framing her face. Dyed the rust red of fall leaves, apart from a couple of inches around her roots, which show what must be her natural chocolate brown colour. The girl's eye makeup is even more dramatic than her hair. Thick black stripes of shadow sweep across each eye, the edges square against her skin.
And her eyes, surrounded by all that black, are deep and warm, and more beautiful than she's ever seen on any other woman.
“So, Mary, huh?”
Eddie's amused voice makes her jump, snapping her attention back to her friends and Eddie’s shit-eating grin.
“Shut up, dorkus,” she snaps, but when the girl walks past them towards the bar she can't stop her gaze wandering back over to her. Something about the way she holds herself is too mesmerising. It's the confidence, definitely, she's not just thinking about what her skin might feel like through all the holes in her clothing, not at all. Or if the texture of the colourful tattoos down her arm would feel different.
Eddie snorts, and downs the last of his beer.
“Right, follow me,” he grabs her hand and pulls her to her feet.
“Wait a minute,” she stammers, “we’re just going over there?”
“Of course!” Eddie answers. “We don't have the months it takes for your usual dance. And before you ask, you picked well, Mary plays for your team. Just…follow my lead and go with it.”
“Go with what? Eddie, what are you doing?”
Eddie doesn't answer, turning away and tugging on her hand until she can't help stumbling towards the bar.
“Steve?” she tries, but he's too busy grinning to be any help. He waves his hand in a shooing gesture. She glares at him as she's pulled away.
“If you're here to gloat about getting second billing at Sal’s last week, Munson, I’m not nearly wasted enough to hear it.” The girl says as Eddie leans up on the bar next to her.
Oh no, she's really in trouble now. Mary’s voice is low and melodic, and sends a shiver down her spine. Words. She has to remember some words to say to this woman. But not too many. What had Steve said? ‘Always stop the sentence before you think you're finished.’
“Nope, not here about that,” Eddie says, pulling Robin towards him until she's caged at the bar between him and the girl. “Mary Mayhem, meet my friend Robin. Robin, this is Mary, lead singer of Mobocracy, the best punk band in LA and our only real competition for getting an actual record deal.”
“You are so full of shit Eddie,” Mary throws back a shot, then turns to face him. “First of all…” she trails off. Robin flushes as Mary looks her up and down.
“Hi.” Mouth dry, Robin wiggles her fingers at the other woman. Oh god, really? Hi? Is that the best she can do? To her immense shock she gets a smile in return.
“Since when do you have actual friends?” Mary throws the fake insult at Eddie with the fond contempt of an old friend. Although, she only half looks over her shoulder at him. Most of her attention remains on Robin. And being the focus of this woman's attention might be the most exciting thing that's ever happened to her in her life.
“Would you believe me if I told you we went to school together?” he says.
Mary snorts. “I don't believe you ever went to school.”
“Oh he was there every day,” Robin blurts out. “Mostly smoking in the parking lot, though.” Is this what he meant by playing along? She hopes so.
It must be, because Mary bursts out laughing, loud and genuine, while Eddie just shrugs his shoulders with a little smile on his face.
“Well if you ladies are just going to insult me, I’ll go somewhere I’m wanted,” he says, pushing himself back from the bar with an injured air. “See ya!”
He actually winks at her as he struts off. Smug bastard.
“Drink?” Mary asks.
Robin takes a deep breath. What’s the worst that can happen? “Sure.”
She tugs on the sleeve of the Metallica shirt Eddie lent her, trying to get it to slip down her shoulder a little like some of the other girls around them. But it's not quite oversize enough and the damn thing slips straight back up to her neck again.
“You know, I think I’ve got something that would look better on you than that dumb thing,” Mary says. She bites her lip slightly, Robin’s eyes immediately drawn to the quick flash of her tongue peeking out. “I’ve got booze at home. Wanna get out of here?”
“Yeah, ok.”
Mary leans forward quickly, pressing her lips to Robin's. At first, she freezes in shock, but the warmth from the other woman's body is irresistible. She melts into it. The sounds of the people around them, and the aggressive music filling the club, fades away. As soon as Robin relaxes, Mary’s tongue licks into her mouth. A sharp bite of alcohol against her lips.
She's feeling dazed when Mary pulls back.
“Just making sure we're on the same page.”
Through the haze of warmth clouding her mind Robin nods.
“Yeah, same page. Definitely.”
With a grin, Mary grabs her hand and leads her out of the club. They hurry past Steve and Eddie, who are talking quietly, their heads close together. Eddie grins when he notices her going and her friends wave her goodbye enthusiastically.
The bright lights of sunset strip soon give way to dusty streetlights, casting their pale yellow glow over the two of them. Mary's apartment is far enough away that Robin’s nerves are spiralling out of control by the time they get there. Even though Mary doesn't let go of her hand at any point.
Her heart is hammering in her chest by the time Mary leads her through a nondescript brown door. When it closes, Mary crowds her up against the wall to kiss her again. Robin finds herself pulling her closer, nerves completely forgotten.
“Wow,” she breathes. “You're really good at that.”
Mary smiles in answer. Her apartment is tiny, although not quite a small as Eddie's, still it takes seconds for them to run across to her bedroom. Her heart still hammering wildly, although now for a different reason. This isn't her. It isn't what she does at all, and yet, she's not nervous. Or, she is, but it's the normal nerves that she’ll say something dumb, or overcompensate and get too snarky. She wants this. Even knowing it's just a one night thing. To hell with doomed romance. This might actually be fun.
The wardrobe in the bedroom is open, several tops and skirts dropped on the bed. Robin picks up a pleated tartan miniskirt.
“Try it on.” Mary grins.
“What, no, it's ok.”
Mary reaches around to the button on Robin's jeans. Her whole body heats up and she can't help a tiny gasp when Mary circles the button with her finger before popping it open. She turns her head, Mary's mouth is right next to hers. They kiss again as Robin’s pants fall down.
“Try it,” she whispers.
“Um, ok.”
Robin shimmies the skirt up. When it's sitting on her hips Mary pulls Eddie's Metallica shirt over her head. She chucks it unceremoniously into the far corner of the room, then stands back. Head held to one side, Mary admires her in just her bra and the borrowed skirt. Robin flushes, her pulse thundering through her veins. She's never been the object of such open desire before.
“I knew it,” Mary says.
“Knew what?”
“That underneath those,” she sidles closer, kicking the jeans on the floor, “was a fierce girl waiting to be found.”
Robin raises her eyebrow. “You think I didn't know it?”
“Oh I like you,” she grins wickedly.
This time Robin closes the gap, and kisses Mary. It lingers, their mouths moving urgently together. Mary's hands circle her waist, pulling their bodies together. The flush from before grows and builds into true heat, running up and down her body. When she trails her fingers down Mary's back the mesh is softer than she expected, each hole teasing with a burst of warm skin.
Together, they collapse backwards onto the bed, Mary holding herself up over her, their mouths still connected. Totally wrapped up in the overwhelming heat building between them.
She pulls the mesh out of the waistband of Mary's skirt. It isn't exactly hiding anything, but Robin pulls away from her mouth long enough to drag the scrap of material over Mary's head anyway. Instead of kissing her mouth again, the other woman nuzzles into Robin's neck, one hand coming up to cup her breast over her bra. Pushing up on her elbows, Robin gives Mary the space she needs to reach behind and unclasp it.
Once it's gone, she crashes back down, her shoulders hitting the pillows. Mary's mouth closes around Robin’s nipple. She gasps and sinks her fingers into Mary's hair. Closing them against the dry crunch of hairspray holding the back-combed mane in place. Mary's thigh slips between her legs, making the skirt ride up. She rocks against it. Between her legs already slippery and slick, arousal soaking through her panties.
Mary nips her shoulder and across her collarbone, then runs her tongue down. Through the valley between her breasts, down her stomach, and past her belly button until she makes it to the waistband of the miniskirt.
“Want me to take it off now?” Robin teases.
“No,” Mary's hand slides up her thigh, right beneath the tartan stripes. Her thumb rubs Robin's clit through the cotton of her panties. Robin’s breath catches in her throat, her hips lifting off the mattress briefly.
Abruptly, Mary scoots backwards until she's standing at the end of the bed. Robin watches, curiosity, and arousal, growing as Mary reaches behind herself to undo her bra. Her breasts are perfect, round and full. Pert nipples that Robin just wants to wrap her mouth around. They bounce lightly as Mary pushes her skirt down next, taking the fishnet tights with them. She stands again, wearing only black panties edged in lace.
She's just as incredible naked as she was clothed. As well as the tattoos down her arm she's got a skull decorating her right thigh, which holds a pink jewel in its open jaw. The harsh lines emphasise the soft curves they're inked onto. Robin wants to run her hands over all of them. It's the most visceral reaction she's ever had to a woman. There's no doomed romance here, only shared desire and she wants to lose herself in it. Lose herself in Mary's body. Seeing Robin staring at her, Mary runs her finger around the elastic of her panties slowly.
“Let me wear them,” Robin says, the words falling out of her before she can stop them.
Mary's eyes widen.
“They're wet.”
A shiver goes down Robin's spine. She's wet. Because of her.
“Do you like that?”
Robin nods, her mouth dry.
“Ok, that's hot.”
Flinging her legs off the bed, Robin hurries over. Her fingers fumble at the waistband of the skirt she's still wearing.
“Wait.” Mary grabs her hands, stilling them. She kneels and reaches underneath the skirt, delicately skimming up her thighs until her fingers grasp Robin's panties and pull them down. Her head quickly ducks under the skirt and her wet tongue presses against Robin's clit. She gasps as a lightning bolt of pleasure bursts in her belly, her thighs warming under Mary's hands.
She stays there for a while, teasing her clit and curling her tongue through Robin's slick folds, until Robin’s thighs start to shake so badly she's not sure she can stand much longer. When Mary pulls back, a little whine escapes from the back of her throat. But Mary kisses her, letting Robin taste herself on her tongue. Then she steps back, and slides the black panties down and off, holding them out to Robin on one finger.
With no hesitation, Robin grabs them from her. they are wet, and warm, she can feel it against her fingers. She puts them on. Mary's warm slick mingling with her own. Her head swims, and she reaches a hand between Mary's legs. Searching through the hair at the top of her legs until she finds the source of her wetness. She drags the tips of her fingers through her folds, sighing deeply at the wetness still clinging to her. Her fingers travel upwards until Mary gasps as she finds her clit.
It's not enough, she needs to be closer. To lose herself in this woman who carries herself so confidently. Who is so unapologetically herself. Everything Robin isn't in real life.
But this room isn't real life. It's somewhere else. And, wearing Mary's skirt, and her underwear, somehow gives her the bravery to be just as unapologetic about what she wants.
And all she wants is Mary's soft thighs around her face, to taste, to touch, to drive her wild.
“Sit on my face,” she whispers against Mary's mouth. Mary answers with a kiss, her tongue teasing Robin's. Making her even more feverish and out of it.
She barely registers Mary manoeuvring her back to the bed not until she's sitting, then lying.
Elation surges alongside desire as Mary sits across her body. Shuffling up until she's across her chest. Then, she turns, carefully moving one leg and then the other over Robin’s body until she's facing Robin's feet. Robin’s so lost in what's happening it takes her a moment to understand, but by the time Mary's pussy is lowering towards her face she gets it.
Reaching up she grabs Mary's hips and pulls her down the rest of the way, flicking her tongue against Mary's clit. At the same time, she feels a hand creeping into the damp panties she's wearing. Mary's fingers bumping her own clit.
She gasps against Mary's pussy and above her, she hears a moan.
Pleasure building, Robin runs her tongue across Mary's pussy, delighting in the taste of the slick gathering at her entrance. Circling then sucking on the little bundle of nerves near her chin. Noting which spots cause her muscles to flutter, or a distant gasp or whimper. Mary doesn't stop what she’s doing either, working around the awkward angle and borrowed clothes to rub Robin's clit in a way which makes her see stars. Desperate to not get too distracted by Mary’s clever fingers working her up, she doubles down, flicking her tongue even more quickly against Mary's clit.
It's almost like a race, she can feel Mary's thighs shaking under her fingers just like her own are trembling with the tight pleasured warmth building from her clit. Mary's breathing breaking down until little sobbing pants burst out of her. Especially when Robin moans against her pussy.
Then Mary's hands start to tremble too, Robin can feel shudders running down her sides. She wraps her lips around Mary's clit and sucks and sucks and sucks until it begins to pulse in her mouth. Fresh slick leaking from her, coating Robin’s lower face. A ragged cry of pleasure falls from the woman above her and Robin's heart soars. She keeps going until Mary lifts herself up and turns to face Robin again. She's flushed, her chest heaving.
Without saying a word, Mary lets her weight fall on Robin. Their lips meet, this kiss wet and sloppy. Mary's tongue against her chin and lips and then in her mouth, tasting herself on Robin. Her hand sneaks back into the panties Robin’s wearing, this time two fingers slide inside Robin and her hips flex as Mary curls them against the spot inside her which drives her wild. She keeps her fingers moving, opening and closing and massaging Robin's walls. Her thumb taking over the movements against Robin’s clit. Still kissing, her tongue sliding in and out of Robin's mouth in time with the movement of her fingers.
Tingling warmth builds in Robin's belly until it peaks and crests, and her orgasm washes over her in a rush. She clings to Mary's shoulders, her legs winding around the other woman's as she shudders and cries out.
Mary keeps her fingers inside Robin as they lie there, panting, breath bouncing from one of them to the other. Those beautiful eyes on hers, searching her face. Slowly, she pulls her fingers out, then brings them up to Robin's mouth.
With no hesitation she wraps her lips around Mary's fingers, sucking and licking her own juices off them. She could swear there's a little familiar tang there, Mary's slick from the panties. Her rational brain knows it's unlikely, but her body doesn't care. She swallows around Mary's fingers, making the other woman gasp.
Then the fingers are ripped from her mouth, and Mary's on her again, kissing her. Robin's head is spinning, like she's drunk too much. She's barely aware when Mary takes off the skirt and panties and covers them with her blankets.
She's too tired to be embarrassed by the way she clings, limpet style, to Mary's side. Mary doesn't seem to care either. Holding her, gently caressing her sides, until she drifts off to sleep.
They sleep late, and get up slowly. Mary offering kisses and coffee and toast and small talk, lingering despite admitting that she's got to meet up with her band soon. It's almost noon when Robin knocks on Eddie's door. Mary helped her navigate back across town again to Eddie's apartment; then kissed her on the cheek and slipped a scrap of paper in her jeans pocket before she took off. While she's waiting for Eddie, she fishes it out. She can't control the grin on her face when she sees that it's a phone number. Carefully, she folds it and slides it back into her pocket.
What is taking Eddie so long? The rest of his band had offered him to share a bigger place, but after so long living with his uncle in that tiny trailer he’d stubbornly insisted on his own space. Which he has, but it's tiny. And it shouldn't take him nearly this long to answer the door.
She's just starting to worry he might not be home when the door opens and Eddie stands there blinking in the sunlight, barefoot, dishevelled and shirtless. His jeans look like they've been pulled on in a hurry, his hair sticking up all over the place.
“Jesus Christ, did you only just wake up?”
“Umm, something like that. I wasn't expecting you back so early.”
Shaking her head at the idea that this is early she barges past him into the dark room. Her eyes flick to the couch, which is remarkable in its Steve-lessness.
“Where’s Steve?” she asks, curiously. 'It's time he tried something new,' Eddie had said. “Did he hook up with someone too?”
“Ahhh…”
There's a rustle from the other side of the room. She whirls around, only to find an equally shirtless and dishevelled Steve sitting up in Eddie's bed. Cheeks flushed bright pink.
“Kind of, yeah,” Eddie's voice croaks. Steve's face goes even redder.
Her mouth wobbles. She tries to hold it in, she does, but the wave overwhelms her and she collapses down onto the couch laughing hysterically, tears falling from her eyes.