Entry tags:
Fic: Boredom Fades, But Infidelity's For Keeps (CW RPF, Alona/Danneel)
Title: Boredom Fades, But Infidelity's For Keeps
Fandom: CW RPF
Pairing(s): Alona Tal/Danneel Harris
Word Count: 1348
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She fucking hates these things, she really does.
Notes: Written for![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oxoniensis' Porn Battle VIII.
"I'm going to go get some air."
Jensen barely looks around. Not that Danneel blames him; it's kind of crazy in here, and he isn't being paid to hang out with his girlfriend. She can still hear the fans' questions, fading into the background as she leaves the crowded hall, and she raises a hand to her temple once she's out of sight.
She's trying to be supportive, she really is, but -
No, fuck it. She fucking hates these things, she really does.
There's a bar on the other side of the convention centre, but she's sick of people, right now; she really does want some air, a chance to sit in silence and be by herself for a minute. She heads for the nearest door instead, and braces herself as the wind hits her, just cold enough to be refreshing after the stifling, overheated air inside.
She wraps her arms around herself loosely, and breathes in.
It isn't, in retrospect, the best idea; the air may be cool, but it smells of cigarette smoke and car exhaust, the indistinct odour of bodies pressed too closely together. She coughs discreetly, and moves a few steps further past the entrance. Not a vast improvement, but it's better than nothing.
"Running away, or just taking a break?"
The voice comes from behind her, and she turns to see Alona, smiling like it's part of some private joke they're both in on. She supposes it is; the boys wouldn't get it, not really, even if they said they understood, and it's probably not worth the explanation.
She tries to smile back, because it's not that bad, really. She chooses to be here.
She tells herself that a lot.
"I don't know why I bother," she says finally. It's more candid than she's used to being, in public, with people she barely knows, but it feels good to say. Out loud, it's even funny.
"Fame?" Alona suggests. "Fortune? Adoring fans?" Her lips are still quirked in a smile, like she knows exactly how ridiculous it sounds.
"I feel adored," she says. It doesn't come out sounding quite as bitter as she expected.
"Need some help with that?" Alona pulls a flask from her pocket, takes a swig, and holds it out to Danneel. Danneel looks at it for a minute, and then reaches out to take it.
The vodka burns on the way down, but only for a second; she closes her eyes, and takes another drink. Alona's fingers close around hers as she hands back the flask, probably the most human contact she's had since she got here, and she waits a second before releasing her grip.
Alona laughs, low and warm, and Danneel doesn't know if she caught the hesitation, or if she's just enjoying the company. Right now, she's not sure it makes much difference. Out here, away from the crowd and the questions and the constant, if incidental, scrutiny, it's the first time she's really felt like herself.
When she takes the flask again, Alona grabs her hand and pulls her further around the corner. It's darker, less crowded; probably smart, if they want to maintain any facade of anonymity. Afterwards, Alona doesn't drop her hand, but curls her fingers tighter around Danneel's wrist, and Danneel takes a long swig.
Dutch courage, or whatever.
She's the one who leans in first, presses her lips lightly against Alona's. Pauses, waits. Readies her excuses.
Alona opens her mouth, slides her tongue slowly against Danneel's, and Danneel relaxes, leaning in closer. Her stomach tightens a little, the way it always does when she kisses someone new, the way it hasn't in a long time.
Too long, and god, she shouldn't be doing this.
It's not like it's going to stop her or anything, but at least she recognises that much; there are so many reasons this shouldn't be happening right now, but she's not really sure she cares about any of them, about anything other than the way Alona's softer than she's used to, more hesitant, more insistent.
She presses her lips together after the kiss ends, and thinks about being a good girlfriend, about all the reasons she came here in the first place.
"I should get back inside," she says, and hopes it doesn't sound like a rejection. She'd rather think of it as a statement of fact.
Alona nods, her mouth tightening in a smile that isn't reflected in her eyes. Danneel holds her gaze, and smiles - really smiles, and she hopes it's enough - before heading back inside.
-
Jensen's still talking, smiling, answering questions. Danneel settles back into her chair, and catches his eye when she can. He smiles, and that's it.
She goes back to wondering when it's going to be over.
-
They're all exhausted by the time they're finished, but Jared says he's got a lead on a great Chinese place, and he's a hard guy to say no to. It's late when they get there, but the restaurant's still open, and Jensen slides an arm across her shoulders as they sit down.
They order way too much food, and split a few bottles of cheap chardonnay. Jensen laughs at some old joke Jared's telling about something on set, and Danneel leans forward, only half listening, trying not to keep glancing towards the door.
Alona never shows up.
-
"You missed some great egg rolls."
Alona's still dressed, standing guardedly on the other side of the door. "I'll live," she says.
Danneel smiles, and steps forward, so that Alona has to step back to let her into the room. "I brought leftovers."
Alona studies her for a second, like she's considering asking her to leave, and then shuts the door behind her. Danneel sets the carton down on the bed, and takes a seat.
"You came all the way here just to bring me egg rolls?" Alona asks. She sits down on the bed beside Danneel, a careful distance away.
Danneel shrugs. "They're really good. And I didn't know if you'd eaten."
Alona glances at her. There's nothing particularly suspicious in her look, but Danneel feels as if she's being evaluated.
After a moment, Alona reaches for an egg roll, and Danneel supposes she passed.
"We missed you at dinner," she says, wondering why it suddenly seems so hard to slip something casually into the conversation.
Alona raises an eyebrow, as if to say, we?
"I missed you," Danneel clarifies.
"Really." It isn't quite a question, but at least Alona seems more relaxed.
Danneel shrugs. "I was bored."
Alona looks at her again, and Danneel feels as if her gaze is seeing things it shouldn't. She has no idea how much she's giving away, or how to stop it. She doesn't know if she wants to.
After a moment, Alona moves closer, and slides the empty carton onto the floor. "Are you still bored?"
Danneel leans forward, resting her elbows on the bed, her hair falling forward over her shoulders. She supports her head with one hand, and the other traces a slow line up Alona's calf. "Not any more."
-
Alona's smooth where Danneel is used to encountering roughness, gentle when she's used to force. There are bigger differences, but it's the small ones that throw her, make her feel like she's doing all of this for the first time, make her stomach twist and coil with excitement.
She leaves partway through the might, and Alona watches her go.
-
She wakes up late the next morning, barely has time to shower and change before she - really, Jensen - is expected at the first panel.
Afterwards, she leans against the wall, her gaze straying from Jensen's newest horde of fans to the people rushing past all around her. Her fingers tap idly at the wall, and she's glad she didn't wear a watch; the temptation would be too great.
Jensen's still busy when Alona comes to stand beside her. She glances sideways at Danneel, just for a moment, and her fingers curl furtively around Danneel's behind their backs.
"Bored?" Alona asks, glancing at Jensen.
Danneel shrugs. "Not any more."
Fandom: CW RPF
Pairing(s): Alona Tal/Danneel Harris
Word Count: 1348
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She fucking hates these things, she really does.
Notes: Written for
oxoniensis' Porn Battle VIII."I'm going to go get some air."
Jensen barely looks around. Not that Danneel blames him; it's kind of crazy in here, and he isn't being paid to hang out with his girlfriend. She can still hear the fans' questions, fading into the background as she leaves the crowded hall, and she raises a hand to her temple once she's out of sight.
She's trying to be supportive, she really is, but -
No, fuck it. She fucking hates these things, she really does.
There's a bar on the other side of the convention centre, but she's sick of people, right now; she really does want some air, a chance to sit in silence and be by herself for a minute. She heads for the nearest door instead, and braces herself as the wind hits her, just cold enough to be refreshing after the stifling, overheated air inside.
She wraps her arms around herself loosely, and breathes in.
It isn't, in retrospect, the best idea; the air may be cool, but it smells of cigarette smoke and car exhaust, the indistinct odour of bodies pressed too closely together. She coughs discreetly, and moves a few steps further past the entrance. Not a vast improvement, but it's better than nothing.
"Running away, or just taking a break?"
The voice comes from behind her, and she turns to see Alona, smiling like it's part of some private joke they're both in on. She supposes it is; the boys wouldn't get it, not really, even if they said they understood, and it's probably not worth the explanation.
She tries to smile back, because it's not that bad, really. She chooses to be here.
She tells herself that a lot.
"I don't know why I bother," she says finally. It's more candid than she's used to being, in public, with people she barely knows, but it feels good to say. Out loud, it's even funny.
"Fame?" Alona suggests. "Fortune? Adoring fans?" Her lips are still quirked in a smile, like she knows exactly how ridiculous it sounds.
"I feel adored," she says. It doesn't come out sounding quite as bitter as she expected.
"Need some help with that?" Alona pulls a flask from her pocket, takes a swig, and holds it out to Danneel. Danneel looks at it for a minute, and then reaches out to take it.
The vodka burns on the way down, but only for a second; she closes her eyes, and takes another drink. Alona's fingers close around hers as she hands back the flask, probably the most human contact she's had since she got here, and she waits a second before releasing her grip.
Alona laughs, low and warm, and Danneel doesn't know if she caught the hesitation, or if she's just enjoying the company. Right now, she's not sure it makes much difference. Out here, away from the crowd and the questions and the constant, if incidental, scrutiny, it's the first time she's really felt like herself.
When she takes the flask again, Alona grabs her hand and pulls her further around the corner. It's darker, less crowded; probably smart, if they want to maintain any facade of anonymity. Afterwards, Alona doesn't drop her hand, but curls her fingers tighter around Danneel's wrist, and Danneel takes a long swig.
Dutch courage, or whatever.
She's the one who leans in first, presses her lips lightly against Alona's. Pauses, waits. Readies her excuses.
Alona opens her mouth, slides her tongue slowly against Danneel's, and Danneel relaxes, leaning in closer. Her stomach tightens a little, the way it always does when she kisses someone new, the way it hasn't in a long time.
Too long, and god, she shouldn't be doing this.
It's not like it's going to stop her or anything, but at least she recognises that much; there are so many reasons this shouldn't be happening right now, but she's not really sure she cares about any of them, about anything other than the way Alona's softer than she's used to, more hesitant, more insistent.
She presses her lips together after the kiss ends, and thinks about being a good girlfriend, about all the reasons she came here in the first place.
"I should get back inside," she says, and hopes it doesn't sound like a rejection. She'd rather think of it as a statement of fact.
Alona nods, her mouth tightening in a smile that isn't reflected in her eyes. Danneel holds her gaze, and smiles - really smiles, and she hopes it's enough - before heading back inside.
-
Jensen's still talking, smiling, answering questions. Danneel settles back into her chair, and catches his eye when she can. He smiles, and that's it.
She goes back to wondering when it's going to be over.
-
They're all exhausted by the time they're finished, but Jared says he's got a lead on a great Chinese place, and he's a hard guy to say no to. It's late when they get there, but the restaurant's still open, and Jensen slides an arm across her shoulders as they sit down.
They order way too much food, and split a few bottles of cheap chardonnay. Jensen laughs at some old joke Jared's telling about something on set, and Danneel leans forward, only half listening, trying not to keep glancing towards the door.
Alona never shows up.
-
"You missed some great egg rolls."
Alona's still dressed, standing guardedly on the other side of the door. "I'll live," she says.
Danneel smiles, and steps forward, so that Alona has to step back to let her into the room. "I brought leftovers."
Alona studies her for a second, like she's considering asking her to leave, and then shuts the door behind her. Danneel sets the carton down on the bed, and takes a seat.
"You came all the way here just to bring me egg rolls?" Alona asks. She sits down on the bed beside Danneel, a careful distance away.
Danneel shrugs. "They're really good. And I didn't know if you'd eaten."
Alona glances at her. There's nothing particularly suspicious in her look, but Danneel feels as if she's being evaluated.
After a moment, Alona reaches for an egg roll, and Danneel supposes she passed.
"We missed you at dinner," she says, wondering why it suddenly seems so hard to slip something casually into the conversation.
Alona raises an eyebrow, as if to say, we?
"I missed you," Danneel clarifies.
"Really." It isn't quite a question, but at least Alona seems more relaxed.
Danneel shrugs. "I was bored."
Alona looks at her again, and Danneel feels as if her gaze is seeing things it shouldn't. She has no idea how much she's giving away, or how to stop it. She doesn't know if she wants to.
After a moment, Alona moves closer, and slides the empty carton onto the floor. "Are you still bored?"
Danneel leans forward, resting her elbows on the bed, her hair falling forward over her shoulders. She supports her head with one hand, and the other traces a slow line up Alona's calf. "Not any more."
-
Alona's smooth where Danneel is used to encountering roughness, gentle when she's used to force. There are bigger differences, but it's the small ones that throw her, make her feel like she's doing all of this for the first time, make her stomach twist and coil with excitement.
She leaves partway through the might, and Alona watches her go.
-
She wakes up late the next morning, barely has time to shower and change before she - really, Jensen - is expected at the first panel.
Afterwards, she leans against the wall, her gaze straying from Jensen's newest horde of fans to the people rushing past all around her. Her fingers tap idly at the wall, and she's glad she didn't wear a watch; the temptation would be too great.
Jensen's still busy when Alona comes to stand beside her. She glances sideways at Danneel, just for a moment, and her fingers curl furtively around Danneel's behind their backs.
"Bored?" Alona asks, glancing at Jensen.
Danneel shrugs. "Not any more."