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Elphaba had started visiting Glinda three months after the incident at the top of the Wizard’s palace. Her visits were always sporadic and offered little information regarding her whereabouts when she wasn’t flying onto Glinda’s balcony in the dead of night. She never offered any form of contact, any hint of how to get a message to her outside of the nights together, no matter how many times Glinda asked.
It was thrilling, the unpredictability of the visits. Elphaba had always been unpredictable, partially a side effect of being green but partially just Elphaba’s general disposition, but Glinda had always felt that she had seen through the facade, that she understood about two thirds of Elphaba and her feelings and her actions, so it was nice to be kept on her toes for once, just like everybody else. If this was how other people felt all the time, she could understand how they could be afraid. Even if she wasn’t. Even if she couldn’t be. For the first time in her life, Glinda was facing something totally out of her control; and yet, the visits were the only thing that brought her any reprieve from the life that she had built for herself.
“Quite the gilded cage you’ve got here,” Elphaba had said the first time she’d touched down on Glinda’s terrace, startling Glinda she’d dropped a full cup of tea onto the ground, the ceramic shattering against the hardwood floor.
“I can’t say I’m not comfortable,” Glinda said once she’d gotten over the initial shock, then added sadly, “Except that I can.”
She looked at Elphaba, who was wearing almost exactly the same clothes she had worn three months ago to visit the Emerald City. They were as ragged looking as Elphaba herself, who was all slumped shoulders and sunken eyes.
“Come to yell at me?” Glinda asked.
Elphaba smirked, wry and rueful.
“How’d you guess?”
Each of these visits brought with it something physical. Almost always, it was sex. In fact, it had been sex that very first time, even if that hadn’t been what Elphaba had seemed to set out to do (or maybe it had. Glinda couldn’t decide if she preferred it as an accident). Initially, it had seemed that Elphaba had come for a physical fight, a wrestling match on the floor or an opportunity for one good slap to Glinda’s perfect face.
“This is outrageous,” Elphaba had said, surveying Glinda’s bedroom, her chin held high in disapproval. “I mean, the last time I saw you, you were totally helpless, flanked by armed guards that I was doing my best to scare away from you–and now? How did you worm your way out of political prison and into whatever the hell this is?”
She stalked over to Glinda’s bed and threw back her down comforter, running a green hand along Glinda’s pink satin sheets.
“I mean, what are these, 600 thread count?”
“800,” Glinda said.
She was still catching her breath, and it was hard not to laugh at Elphaba’s nitpicking. Elphaba might kill her if she laughed.
Elphaba stalked back over to her, dropping her broomstick to the ground as she did, wood clattering against wood. Glinda tried to stand with her head held high, but the shame washed over her.
“I heard what you said about me,” Elphaba said. Her voice was clipped. “About how dangerous I am. I heard you brought Pfannee and Shenshen up there, too, to talk about how scary I was to be in class with, how you all suspected I was conspiring with Dr. Dillamond against the Wizard from the moment I arrived. I expected Morrible to exploit our connection from Shiz–but you? Never in a million years did I-”
Her voice broke off into something jagged, pained. Glinda’s shoulders stiffened. Her lips were pursed tight, her arms crossed just as tight across her chest, her only barricade to stop herself from crying. Elphaba was silent still, staring at Glinda, her eyes wider and wilder than Glinda had ever seen them. Glinda just stared back.
“Say something,” Elphaba urged. “Don’t just stand there and look at me. Do you have nothing to say for yourself?”
It was like Glinda was paralyzed. It was all she could do to cross her arms and hold back tears and stare.
Elphaba’s back tensed like a wounded animal, her shoulders almost touching the tips of her ears. She held her hand out towards the tea set on Glinda’s desk, lifting the sugar pot a few inches into the air. Glinda watched it rise. Elphaba looked back at her. Glinda still said nothing. Elphaba’s face hardened and, without touching it, she threw the sugar pot so hard it shattered against the wall, cubes of sugar crumbling as they hit the floor.
“I can’t believe…” She lifted the small carafe of milk. “..that you… you …” It shattered against the opposite wall, milk seeping down the wallpaper and into Glinda’s laundry hamper. “...would do this. After everything, you would do this…” She lifted the teapot, delicate and ornamental and spilling tea out of its spout already.
“Are you done?” Glinda asked. She was beginning to grow frustrated with all of her nice things being ruined, even if she deserved it.
The teapot slammed against Glinda’s thick headboard, knocking the top off the pot and spilling the tea into Glinda’s bed, though miraculously, the pot didn’t shatter. She gave Glinda a look as if to say, “There. Now I’m done.”
“You’re lucky my housekeeper’s gone home for the day,” Glinda said. “Or she’d be rushing in to check on me.”
Elphaba stepped closer to Glinda, her jaw setting with rage, and this time, Glinda stepped with her, until they were centimeters away from each other, until the tips of the noses of their hard faces almost touched. Glinda didn’t know what made her do it, but she reached out for Elphaba’s face, her fingers digging into the flesh just beneath her ears, and pulled Elphaba those last few centimeters to kiss her with all the ferocity of throwing the first punch, holding her there, needing her there.
Elphaba’s hands pressed against the middle of Glinda’s back, mashing their bodies together. She kissed back viciously, biting down on Glinda’s lower lip so forcefully that Glinda tasted blood. Glinda’s eyes were shut tight, her mouth wide open, lips moving hungrily across Elphaba’s mouth. Elphaba was just as hungry, their kiss becoming a desperate clash of lips and tongues and teeth, lips and tongues and teeth and lips and teeth, soft and hard, soft and hard.
Elphaba hooked her fingers in Glinda’s thick hair, pulling Glinda’s head sharply back with one hand and taking her glasses off with the other, using magic to set them down on the nightstand without ever stepping away. As soon as her path was clear, she sunk her teeth into Glinda’s neck.
Glinda had had her neck kissed a few times before, but never like this. Elphaba was sucking like a vampire, her tongue hurriedly smoothing Glinda’s skin in her hurry to cover as much ground as possible. Glinda almost forgot she was standing, too caught up in the pressure of Elphaba’s mouth against her, the indecent suction of the soft tissue of her neck, the dulling pain of Elphaba angling her head by her hair. She stumbled into Elphaba’s arms, feeling the sharp prick of Elphaba’s tooth catching on her skin.
Elphaba held her up. Looking at her for the first time since she’d kissed her, Glinda was awestruck but the wetness of Elphaba’s lips, the spit that had spread halfway across her right cheek, the look in her eye, pupils blown with lust. Though she didn’t dare ask and risk messing with the hot tension between them, it seemed as though Elphaba was admiring her with equal vigor.
With Glinda secure on her feet, Elphaba’s hands found the silky hem of her nightgown. Glinda admired the way green fingers wrapped around the fabric, tugging it forward, tugging Glinda forward with it. Glinda brought her chin down ever so slightly, just enough to make eye contact with Elphaba, to look up at her through her eyelashes and drop her jaw just so. Slowly, she lifted her hands up, inviting Elphaba to strip her. Elphaba pulled the gown over her head like she was tearing wrapping paper. She tossed it to the side, her hands coming to rest along Glinda’s bare waist. Glinda stood before her in only her underwear.
Though she didn’t pretend not to enjoy being on display, it seemed suddenly unfair how clothed Elphaba was, in her heavy cloak and her thick long sleeved dress. Glinda pushed the cloak off of Elphaba’s shoulders and allowed Elphaba’s hands to roam up her body–over her hips, across her stomach, brushing her tits, tracing her pelvic bones and thumbing at the thin band of fabric that stretched over them, circling around to grope her ass–as she felt for the zipper of Elphaba’s dress. Actually, there were buttons. Of course there were buttons.
Glinda stepped further into Elphaba’s space, needing to be closer to do her work. The rough fabric of the dress was harsh against her bare chest. Elphaba began to kiss her neck again. Glinda felt her smug grin against her skin. Glinda tried her best not to get distracted, her hands working the buttons on the back of Elphaba’s dress, deft and efficient. She was almost done when Elphaba, having already moved her mouth down to Glinda’s shoulder, bit down at a particularly sensitive place near the crook of her neck. Glinda couldn’t help but moan, her head rolling back and away, giving Elphaba more access. Her hands balled around the ends of the open back of Elphaba’s dress, yanking so hard the two remaining bottom buttons popped off and onto the floor.
Elphaba’s dress sagged, and Glinda pushed it down hurriedly, holding Elphaba’s head to herself. She wrapped one leg up over Elphaba’s hip, balancing on her toe. Without looking up, Elphaba dragged her to the bed like a tango dancer, only taking her lips away from Glinda’s shoulder (and neck, and back…) once she could push her backwards into the bed.
Elphaba revelled in the way Glinda’s head fell back against the mattress, the way the spilled tea soaked into her hair. Glinda swallowed hard, watching Elphaba admire her and admiring right back. This wasn’t the first time she had seen Elphaba in her underwear—that was a element of being roommates—but it was the first time she was allowed to really look.
Elphaba was beautiful. Glinda had known it when they were at school. Elphie had always carried with her a certain self-assuredness, a willingness to put her whole self forth, that Glinda had found undeniably attractive, even before they had become friends, or even friendly with each other, but that self-assuredness in this context was making Glinda salivate. It was all she could do to stay where Elphaba wanted her, feeling more compelled to touch Elphaba in every place imaginable than she ever had.
Luckily, Elphaba put her out of her misery and climbed on top of her, their legs twisting together instantly, Elphaba’s mouth quickly finding Glinda’s nipple. Glinda gasped at the wet warmth of Elphaba’s tongue, the languid way it circled as she sucked on Glinda’s tit, her teeth lightly grazing sensitive skin. In contrast to the slowness of Elphaba’s mouth, her hands worked quickly at pulling Glinda’s underwear down, tapping her thighs to prompt Glinda to thrust her hips up, to help her get them over the curve of her ass, down her thighs, pushing them as far as she could until Glinda was kicking them off with vigor.
It was entirely possible she had been waiting for this since the Ozdust.
Glinda had always been loud; she had always been vocal, in all contexts, but she had never imagined just how vocal she could be in this context. She groaned the second Elphaba’s fingers sunk into her, deep and insatiable and obscene. As Elphaba explored what exactly she was capable of, and fuck if she wasn’t capable, Glinda provided very detailed feedback in the form of moans and whines and sighs. With each sweet noise, Elphaba grew more confident, pushed further, faster, until she had built up a momentous rhythm.
Glinda felt each thrust like a heartbeat.
“Elphie, Elphie, Elphie,” she chanted until her lips were as wet with Elphaba’s name as her thighs.
Her orgasm building rapidly, her cries became less a name and more an exclamation of pleasure until she came quick and easy on Elphaba’s fingers, her body shivering with the suddenness of it.
“Okay,” she breathed, her hand coming to rest on Elphaba’s wrist, gently pushing her away, but Elphaba didn’t relent.
Instead, she lowered herself to her knees and pulled Glinda towards the edge of the bed, all without pulling out of her. Glinda gasped, too sensitive and yet aching for whatever it was Elphaba had in store, and Elphie could feel it, the way Glinda clenched around her in anticipation. She smirked and licked her lips before pushing Glinda’s legs even further apart and finding her clit with her tongue.
Glinda’s hips snapped up to Elphaba’s face, her pubic bone knocking into Elphaba’s nose, but Elphaba didn’t complain, just buried her face deeper into Glinda, ran her tongue further back before flicking back up to circle her clit. Glinda’s thighs began to tremor, her legs jerking sporadically, knocking her out of rhythm, try as she might to roll her hips to the thrust of Elphaba’s fingers.
Glinda moaned like she had never moaned before. It felt like she was inventing a new vowel, like she was the first person to make a sound like that, so deep in her throat and yet so loud and high and needy. Her body moved in a way that was entirely reactive. She was at the mercy of Elphaba’s fingers and tongue. She felt Elphaba push her legs higher up the bed, so high the muscles in her hips were practically aching, until she was spread wide open, vulnerable and trembling, and every time she thought that she had reached her peak, that that was the height of her climax, Elphaba pushed her higher, and Glinda got louder, whinier, more desperate to be pushed over the edge and into release.
When she finally came, she came in shuddering waves. She threw her head back, the crown of her head pressing deep into the mattress, her hair dampening further, from sweat or spilled tea or both. She could not open her eyes or close her mouth. She could not control the sound she made, somewhere between a moan and a scream, or maybe unlike either of those, but taking up the whole of the room nonetheless. Elphaba left her fingers inside Glinda until the very last shake of her thighs. Glinda could feel Elphaba rest her chin on her leg, could feel her dark eyes on her.
She took several moments to catch her breath, her chest heaving. When she finally opened her eyes, Elphaba was admiring her fingers in the lamplight, her entire hand sticky with Glinda’s cum. Glinda let out a soft sigh at the sight of her. She slowly pushed herself upright, her muscles straining in her back and shoulders, aching so nicely. She leaned forward, pleased when Elphaba watched her breasts, and took Elphaba’s hand from her.
Glinda brought Elphaba’s hand to her lips. Tasting herself on Elphaba’s fingers, sensational proof of her spectacular fucking, almost had Glinda ready for another round. She took Elphaba’s fingers all the way into her mouth, up to where they met her palm, and sucked, her tongue flicking lazily between them. Elphaba watched with sharp eyes, her nostrils flaring. Glinda smiled around her fingers, eager to please.
When she felt like she was done, she surged forward, kissing Elphaba hard, wrapping her arms around Elphaba’s neck. Elphaba groaned when she tasted Glinda again, this time on Glinda’s own lips. Encouraged by the sound, Glinda straddled Elphaba eagerly, prompting another groan from Elphaba when Glinda’s wet heat slid against her bare thigh. Her hands came to rest naturally on Glinda’s hips, fingers gingerly brushing her legs, calming the moment with the coolness of their touch.
She pulled back, looking at Glinda with indescribable warmth and tenderness. And then her look changed, as it so often did with Elphaba, her brain working almost visibly behind her eyes, always spoiling things for herself. She sort of pushed Glinda off her lap, gentle yet still rude, in her haste to get off of the bed.
“I have to go,” she said, grabbing Glinda’s bath towel from the top of her laundry hamper and wiping her mouth with it.
“What?” Glinda asked, still a bit dazed.
Elphaba was pulling her dress back on, buttoning at a most impressive speed, giving up on the ones she couldn’t reach and throwing her cloak over her shoulders. Glinda could only watch her, deep dread replacing orgasmic relief in the pit of her stomach, deep dread flooding her body, and then Elphaba was back on her broomstick and taking off into the night sky.
Even though Elphaba had left her totally unable to predict if something like that would ever happen again, Glinda started leaving her balcony doors open at all times, even while she slept, incapable of hiding her yearning for Elphaba’s sudden reappearance. After a month of nothing, and colder weather moving in, she was beginning to give up when Elphaba touched down softly outside and strode right into the room.
“I know you’ve been leaving this open for me,” she said, never one to back away from a confrontation.
Glinda took a moment to be embarrassed before composing herself, pushing down her sheepish smile.
“How often have you had to fly by here to notice that?” she asked.
Elphaba flushed, pink against green–Glinda hoped there would be more pink against green, different pink against green–an unspoken touche shining in her eyes. She’d always appreciated Glinda’s fiery side like no one else.
“I’ve thought a lot about what happened. The last time you were here” Glinda admitted when Elphaba didn’t respond, then cursed herself for it. Elphaba’s silence had always made her admit to things, as if Elphaba knew Glinda couldn’t help but fill the emptiness.
Fortunately for her ego, Elphaba responded, “Me, too.” She bit her lip, setting her broom down and hanging her coat on the back of a chair. “I left that night… let’s call it unsatisfied.”
Glinda’s ears pricked with interest, and her stomach dropped in the anticipation of something inimitable.
“Well we can’t have that,” she said, erring on the side of cautious and vague. She walked slowly towards Elphaba, swinging her hips just so. She felt the urge to toss her hair, to poke her leg out, but she knew better than to use those moves on Elphaba. This was something she couldn’t bullshit “Is there anything I can do to help?”
She raised her eyebrows. Elphaba looked down her chin at her. She shrugged off her shawl and began to unbutton her own shirt.
Glinda wanted so badly not to be the first one to kiss again, to make Elphaba come to her, but something about Elphaba’s fingers inspired her to close the gap between them, to take over Elphaba’s task and then some, her fingers finding the zipper of Elphaba’s skirt, pleased when it fell easily to the floor. Refusing to let the opportunity pass her by, Glinda made quick work of Elphaba’s underwear, not satisfied until all of Elphaba’s skin was hers to touch. She grabbed at Elphaba’s waist, her hips, the backs of her thighs.
“I think you could help me better on your knees,” Elphaba said against Glinda's lips, her words buzzing.
Glinda nodded eagerly, her eyes widening. She walked Elphaba backwards to the bed and gently guided her to a seated position.
“Strip first,” Elphaba said, catching onto Glinda’s enthusiasm and not wanting to waste the moment. Something playfully defensive reared its head in Glinda’s chest, and she got the urge to fight back a little bit, to refuse, and maybe to knock Elphaba onto her back, but then Elphaba said, “Please,” and Glinda was taking off her pajamas.
Stripping in front of Elphaba’s piercing gaze had Glinda feeling her nakedness more than she ever had. Elphaba’s eyes followed her every move, traced every edge and curve of her body, widened as she sank to her knees. Elphaba scooted to the very edge of Glinda’s bed and spread her legs. All she had to do was raise her eyebrows to convince Glinda that she urgently needed to know what Elphaba tasted like.
She started slowly, exploring Elphaba’s pussy with her tongue, flicking her clit, teasing her entrance, learning what Elphaba liked based on the clench of her thighs. Eventually, she had learned Elphaba’s body so well that Elphaba’s hand was cradling her head, pushing Glidna’s face further in between her legs. It was a bit suffocating, but it was so warm and sweet that Glinda decided that to be crushed between Elphaba’s thighs would be a better death than she deserved.
And so, Glinda always left her balcony open. She had stopped letting Fiyero stay the night, too. She didn’t think he’d try to hurt Elphaba, or even say anything to anyone. Really, she kept him away because she was selfish, because she knew Fiyero would want to see her, that he’d want to help her if he knew he could, that he may even be happy to hop on the back of Elphaba’s broomstick and start raising hell with her. But Elphaba had never asked that of him. And, as far as Glinda knew, Elphaba never visited him, not to yell or to fuck or to rest her wings for a quiet moment.
Elphaba’s visits weren’t always about sex—though they did always make Glinda’s heart beat nearly out of her chest. Twice now she had shown up injured in some way.
The first time hadn’t been so bad, just a deep gash in the palm of her hand, collateral from her great escape the first time she dared return to the Wizard’s palace, looking to free his monkeys. Elphaba was there more for a hiding place than medical care, but Glinda fretted over her wound nonetheless, cleaning it and kissing it and dressing it with a bandage that was comically large, wrapped around Elphaba’s hand five or six times over. The second time was far more severe.
Elphaba had shown up one night at three in the morning, later than she ever had before, with a gunshot wound in her thigh. She had crash landed on the balcony, stumbling into Glinda’s room and shutting the doors behind her as best she could before tumbling to the floor. Glinda jolted up, running to the doors before even turning on a light, locking them and closing every shade she had.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” she asked frantically.
When she finally got her lamp on, she gasped at Elphaba’s state. She was sat on the floor, her legs folded up under her, her mouth screwed into a permanent wince. Her dress was soaked in blood, some of it already dried, collecting in the heavy fabric like human rust. Before she could explain, Glinda was pushing her dress up, exposing the hole in the middle of her thigh, which was still oozing blood.
“Holy shit, Elphie,” Glinda breathed.
She sprang into action, grabbing a scarf from her dresser and, to her dismay, her cutest white belt. In the meantime, Elphaba had managed to get her injured leg out straight in front of her without too much of a fuss. It hurt Glinda to see her hold back her anguish, but she knew it was probably for the best, considering who might be out looking for her.
“I think I can dig the bullet out,” Elphaba said, flexing her hand as she geared up for the pain.
“No!” Glinda exclaimed, throwing herself over Elphaba’s knee, blocking her leg from herself. “The bullet could be the only thing stopping you from bleeding out. You’re just going to have to heal around it. Here, help me lift your leg, just for a second.”
Elphaba hissed as she and Glinda worked together to manually pick up her thigh. Glinda slid the belt under it as quick as possible and tied it tightly an inch above the edge of the wound. Then, she stuffed the ends of the scarf into the bullet hole. Elphaba screamed. Glinda teared up instantly at the sound of it, even though she knew she was doing what was best. She gently placed Elphaba’s hand over the part of the scarf that stuck out of the wound.
“Keep pressure on this,” she said as soothingly as she could.
She got up and paced around her room, trying to remember where she had put the first aid kit she had bought after Elphaba’s first incident. She finally found it stashed under her dresser.
“It’s almost soaked through,” Elphaba said, panic rising in her voice.
“It’s okay,” Glinda said. “We’ll just add more dressing on top. I have gauze.”
She knelt back down next to Elphaba and opened the kit.
“Do we have to push this in, too?” Elphaba asked.
Glinda nodded sagely. She didn’t think she could say yes without crying. Why did it seem like everything she knew to do, every way she thought she could help, involved hurting Elphaba in some way? She shook off her regret. This time, it would be worth it.
Elphaba nodded back. She steeled herself. They added the gauze, packing it into the wound, along with a bit more of the scarf, which was unrecognizable under Elphaba’s blood. This time, Glinda placed her own hand over the dressing, not trusting Elphaba to keep the right amount of pressure.
“How do you know all this?” Elphaba asked.
“Fiyero,” Glinda said, though she was unhappy to say it. “He’s thinking about joining the Emerald Guard. I asked him to teach me some first aid. Y’know, in case.”
She didn’t tell Elphaba that he was joining the Guard to look for her, and that she was actively rooting against him.
“Well, it paid off,” Elphaba said. She paused. She was smiling a bit, which made Glinda frown harder. “I bet you love this,” she said. “Knowing more than me, for once.”
“I don’t love anything about this situation,” Glinda said tersely. It was maybe a bit of a lie. She wasn’t really looking to be the smart one in this situation, but she couldn’t truthfully say a small part of her didn’t enjoy having Elphie need her, even if it was for something as ghastly as this.
“I’m sorry about your clothes,” Elphaba said. “Your scarf, your belt… shit, there’s blood all over your pajamas, too.”
“Be sorry about this,” Glinda snapped and, because she couldn’t help herself, pressed the heel of her hand against the edge of the wound, trying to force some sense into Elphaba. Why was she worried about clothes at a time like this?
Elphaba hissed sharply, both of her hands wrapping hard around Glinda’s arm, jerking it away. Glinda looked at her pointedly.
“This is serious, Elphie. This could’ve killed you.”
Elphaba only sighed in response.
After that night, Glinda had called the next morning to give her housekeeper the day off and forced Elphaba to stay and be monitored. Elphaba wouldn’t allow her to seek any advice from a doctor, worried about risking her cover, and she wouldn’t stay overnight again, despite Glinda’s many protests, but she stayed all through the day and allowed Glinda to pamper her, resting in bed and drinking tea and even letting Glinda help her take a shower. And then she left, promising to lay low for a while, and that was that.
As the visits became more regular, Elphaba developed a bit of a routine. Typically, she would show up horny, and Glinda would make her come, and if she did a good job, if Elphaba found her deserving–and she usually did–then she would get her turn. But sometimes… sometimes Elphaba would arrive in a certain mood, and Glinda would find herself buck naked on her balcony, bent over the railing as Elphaba fucked her from behind, her mouth a thin line of restraint, as if her silence would guarantee their privacy; or tying Elphaba to her headboard, forcing Elphaba to watch her touch herself to completion; or, once or twice, she had woken up to Elphaba in her bed, pulling her arm around herself and seeming grateful when Glinda said nothing, just held her and went back to sleep.
This time, when Elphaba touched down, it seemed routine at first. Elphaba strode into the room, like always; kissed her in greeting, like always; they were stripped to their underwear in minutes, like always; but when Elphaba kissed her, it felt slower; when Elphaba’s hands roamed her bare back, it felt careful, steadfast; when Elphaba pulled away to look at her with that wicked glint in her eyes, the kind of glint that could only belong to someone so smart and keen and convicted, that could only belong to Elphaba, and asked Glinda, in that irresistible low voice of hers, like tree sap or honey, for the first time in a long time,
“What do you want from me?”
Glinda felt like they could really belong to each other.
Glinda grinned at her, slow and coy, so charmed by the woman in front of her, and so hot for her.
“I don’t know,” she said, a little lightheaded. Tenderness , she wanted to say. Friendship. Love. Forgiveness. Instead, she asked, “Do you have any suggestions?”
Elphaba grinned back, a little dangerous. She had Glinda naked and in her lap in a matter of seconds, kissing her jaw, biting the crook of her neck, popping pert nipples in and out of her mouth. Glinda watched her, watched the way her lips curled and her cheeks sucked in, watched the satisfied crinkle of her eyes when Glinda made a particularly compelling noise. Elphaba’s hands roamed everywhere before one settled between Glinda’s legs, and soon, she was riding Elphie’s fingers, gripping the headboard with one hand and holding Elphie’s face to her tit with the other.
As she got closer, her hand groped blindly down Elphaba’s body until it slipped into Elphaba’s underwear. Glinda moaned at the wet between Elphaba’s legs, rubbing Elphaba’s clit as best as she could while actively being fucked, thrilled by the way Elphaba’s grinded against her. With the way Elphaba moved beneath her, the feel of Elphaba against her hand, it was only a matter of time before Glinda was coming around Elphaba’s fingers, the angle of their position allowing Elphaba to press deep into her, even as Glinda got tighter.
She kept Elphaba inside of her until she was too sensitive to bear it. She used the last remaining bit of her strength to unclasp Elphaba’s bra, needing skin against skin, and collapsed against Elphaba’s chest. Elphaba lightly traced circles into Glinda’s back, soothing her as she shook from her aftershock. Glinda sighed happily into her shoulder. As soon as her legs felt less like jelly, she sat back and narrowed her eyes just enough to be sexy.
“Your turn,” she said, already sliding down the bed, taking Elphaba’s underwear with her and getting on her knees just the way Elphaba liked her.
“I might be too tired,” Elphaba said. She made no move to cover herself but tugged Glinda’s hand back up towards her. “Come back up here.”
Glinda climbed warily back up and settled under Elphaba’s arm. She looked up at Elphaba, waiting for her to look down before pushing her lips out into a pout.
“Disappointed?” Elphaba asked with a wry smile.
Glinda dropped her act, cuddling further into Elphaba’s side.
“I would never waste the time I get with you being disappointed,” she said. It was the most vulnerable thing either of them had said to each other in a long while. A little emboldened, Glinda added, “I wish it could be like this all the time.”
Elphaba stiffened beside her. She said nothing. When Glinda looked up at her, her face was hard, her jaw beginning to set that way it did when she was itching to argue.
“What’s wrong?” Glinda asked. She felt so suddenly stupid, ruinous.
“Nothing,” Elphaba said in that voice that clearly meant something was wrong (Glinda should know–she was an expert at that voice).
Glinda looked down her chin at her. She flipped back onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow.
“What is it?”
“It’s nothing,” Elphaba said again, quicker and harsher than before. “Can I sleep here tonight? It’s getting late.”
“Sure,” Glinda said easily, but she was still wary of the sudden change in Elphaba’s mood.
Elphaba turned onto her side, away from Glinda, and turned out the light. Glinda watched the way the moonlight danced across her back. She was the most precious thing Glinda had ever seen, tragically beautiful, beautifully tragic. Glinda couldn’t imagine what it must be like, to live wherever Elphie was living these days, to spend weeks hatching plans to free just one flying monkey, to lead just one herd of deer to refuge, to see every person who had ever known her fall so hard for the Wizard’s narrative and turn their backs so completely on her, and yet to still believe, with her every heartstring, that the work she was doing was worth sacrificing everything she had ever wanted.
Glinda could never be brave like that. Or maybe she could. Maybe she could be brave for Elphaba. Because if she really thought about it, if there was some way she could bring Elphaba back into her life, some way they could be together, she really believed she could spend weeks starving in the forest, sleeping in the hollow of a tree, running from the Emerald Guard and angry Munchkin mobs. Right now, staring at Elphaba’s cool green back, the knots of muscle she had developed in her vigilantism, Glinda believed she could, if only she could stop herself from the worry and the dread.
She had to believe she could stop herself from the worry and the dread because Elphaba was beginning to feel a little bit like everything.
“I love you,” Glinda said. When Elphaba didn’t respond, at the risk of further cracking her heart, she repeated herself. “Elphie–Did you hear me? I love you.”
She had been working up the courage to say those words for months. Elphaba didn’t even turn around to look at her.
“You live here,” she murmured.
And that was that. Glinda lived in this beautiful penthouse, with a balcony and a breathtaking view of the Emerald City, as far away from the Wizard’s palace as she had dared, a palace in which she walked the halls with relative freedom four or five times a week. Glinda attended banquets and photo ops, she cut ribbons and performed the few magical parlour tricks she had learned in front of crowds of hundreds, Munchkins and Gillikins and Winkies, but rarely an animal in the audience these days. She ate well and drank wine. She went home to visit her family and had private those meetings with Morrible that she had once been so jealous of.
Glinda choked back a sob. Elphaba ignored her wet, shuddering breath, but she didn’t get up, which made Glinda cry more, harder. She stared at Elphaba’s bare back as she cried and wished for it to be the last thing she ever saw.
When she was done crying, she slipped her arm between the crook of Elphaba’s elbow and her abdomen, resting her hand against the soft part of Elphaba’s stomach and reveling in the heat of her body, the familiarity of the gentle breathing. She fell asleep with her face pressed into Elphaba’s shoulder, hiding her shame against Elphaba’s skin. When she awoke, Elphaba was gone.