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“Can I borrow a sweatshirt?” Brooke asks.
“Yeah, sure, go ahead” Peyton says absentmindedly, never looking up from her sketchbook. She lays on her bed lazily, basking in light of the candles she lit around her room. “Wait, don’t you have your own sweatshirts? In your own room? Down the hall…” she laughs.
“I didn’t bring any sweatshirts to LA, Peyton.” she says, as if Peyton’s question is ridiculous. “But your candles are making me want to be cozy…”
Brooke goes into Peyton’s closet and comes out in an oversized black hoodie that hangs down to her knees.
“P. Sawyer, you’re smaller than I am, why is your sweatshirt so huge on me?” Brooke teases. Brooke sits on the edge of the bed now, wearing only Peyton’s sweatshirt and some little shorts beneath it. Except you can’t see the shorts anymore, so she’s all sweatshirt and long legs. Peyton looks up at Brooke and her mouth goes dry. There’s something about Brooke wearing her sweatshirt that makes her stomach flip. It’s that same feeling she used to get in middle school when she’d borrow a boy’s sweatshirt, but somehow opposite. Like now she’s the boy, and Brooke is the cute girl wearing her sweatshirt. Her cheeks go scarlet and she looks down at her sketches again.
“You know I don’t like wearing those tight clothes you always try to put me in when we go shopping…can you pass me my cigarettes? ” Peyton asks, trying to change the subject.
Brooke doesn’t pass her the cigarettes. She hates when Peyton smokes. And she won’t stop talking about the damn sweatshirt. “I like wearing your sweatshirt, it smells like you…” Brooke purrs. Her voice sounds distant as she continues on, now talking about something else entirely.
Peyton doesn’t even hear what she’s saying. She’s staring at the sweatshirt, staring at Brooke wearing the sweatshirt, and it feels like her world is spinning on its axis. All of this over a sweatshirt? If she’s honest with herself, she knows it's more than that. But she doesn’t want to be honest with herself right now.
***
A few weeks later, Brooke is digging through Peyton’s dresser drawers, looking for something to borrow. It doesn’t strike Peyton as particularly odd. Brooke has never had any boundaries, really, especially when it comes to her.
“Something you want to tell me, Peyt?” she asks, holding up a small pair of boxer-briefs that she finds tucked inside Peyton’s underwear drawer. “Have you been sneaking a guy into our apartment without me noticing?” Shit.
Peyton looks at her computer, not willing to look Brooke in the eye. “I promise you, I haven’t been with any guys since Tree Hill…”
“Oh jeez, are these Lucas’s? That’s a little pervy to hang onto his underwear P. Sawyer. I mean, I know you guys were all Romeo and Juliet star crossed lovers, but…”
“God, no. Ew!” she answers. Brooke doesn’t seem satisfied with her explanation, so she reluctantly continues. “I didn’t- They’re...mine, okay?” Peyton says, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She plucks at her keyboard, pretending to focus on a very important non-existent email.
Brooke laughs loudly, not taking her seriously at first. She twists the underwear around her finger, making Peyton cringe a little.
“Wait, you’re serious?” Brooke asks after a moment passes.
“Yes, now put them away…” Peyton snaps, her tone much more aggressive than she intended.
Brooke looks like she’s thinking something over. “You…wear them?” she asks, for clarity.
“Yes.” Peyton says, as casually as possible. Brooke raises an eyebrow.
“Brooke, c’mon, just leave it.” Peyton gets up from her desk and grabs the underwear out of Brooke’s hand. She shoves them back in her drawer. “What do you want to do for dinner tonight? Pizza?”
Brooke nods. “Sure, pizza is fine…” she says, following Peyton into their kitchen.
She pauses at the fridge, opening the door and then turning to Peyton.
“It makes sense, you know?” Brooke says calmly, “it’s very…you.” Her facial expression is hard to read.
Peyton retrieves the pizza menu from the drawer and says nothing. She wonders what Brooke means by that, but she’s too afraid to ask.
****
Since they moved to LA for the summer, Brooke hasn’t gone on a single date. No boys over at the apartment, not even a hint of a hookup. Peyton wonders about her friend’s sudden change of behavior, but she doesn’t ask. If she’s honest, she hopes it continues. The thought of Brooke hooking up with a guy in the next room over from hers, well, it makes her insides feel all twisted up.
“Aww, look at them…” Brooke says as they enter their local coffee shop, her eyes lingering on a couple in the corner. The girl lights up when her boyfriend brings her a croissant and tea. Peyton finds herself wishing Brooke would look at her like that. She tenses at the thought, like it’s invaded her head.
“You okay?” Brooke asks. “You just got weird for a minute…”
“Sorry, uh, what were you saying?” Peyton asks. She realizes she must’ve zoned out without realizing it. Gay panic will do that to you.
“Nothing important…” Brooke sighs. “I’ve just been thinking about what I want in a boyfriend, you know….” No, Peyton does not know. She does not want to know. She wants to change the subject quickly before she loses her appetite. She wants to stop thinking about how she wishes she was Brooke’s boyfriend.
“Why don’t you get us a table, okay? I’ll get you your coffee..” Peyton offers. Brooke seems surprised but happily agrees.
Five minutes later, Peyton returns to the table with Brooke’s favorite caramel latte and a chocolate chip muffin. A warm feeling washes over her when Brooke looks up at her and smiles. “Thanks, Peyt. I needed this today…” she says.
After a pause, Brooke continues. “I really like when people take care of me. Is that selfish?”
“No, it’s not selfish, Brooke. You deserve it. I really like taking care of you.” Peyton says, before she can stop herself. A blush creeps into Brooke’s cheeks, and it makes Peyton stop breathing for a moment.
“You know what, you’d actually make a great boyfriend…” Brooke jokes, laughing to herself as she sips on her latte. Peyton nearly chokes on her own drink, but then she laughs, too. Even though she doesn’t find it funny at all.
****
“Do you hear that weird clicking sound?” Brooke asks.
“Yeah…” Peyton says, flipping a light switch. “Shit, I guess the powers out…” Peyton sighs, “it’s going to get so fucking hot in here without the air conditioning…”
And it did. Within two hours, they were sweating buckets, trying to cool down by putting ice from the freezer on the back of their necks.
“I’m taking these clothes off…” Brooke announces suddenly, quickly stripping down to her lacy bra and panties. Peyton tries not to look, but she fails miserably. The sweat beads on Brooke’s cleavage are so intriguing, not to mention the way her ass is half out of those underwear. Fuck , she needs to get it together and stop looking. She decides to strip too, mostly as a distraction for herself. But her eyes continue to wander to Brooke’s thighs, even as she tries to focus on taking off her own shorts. Luckily, Brooke doesn’t notice her staring. Unfortunately, it’s because Brooke is staring at something else.
“Oooh, the boxers! They look good on you, P. Sawyer!” Shit. She’d forgotten she was wearing them. Brooke is the one staring at her now, and did she just bite her lip? Peyton figures the heat is making her imagine things.
“Oh- yeah- thank you?” she stutters out. “Do you, uh, should we have a beer or something?” she asks Brooke.
“I’ll take a wine cooler” Brooke says, her lips turned up at the idea of drinking beer.
“Right, yeah of course…” Peyton laughs, distracted.
The LA sun goes down as they sit crossed legged on their living room floor, laughing loudly with heat wave induced giggles. Brooke looks up at Peyton with a twinkle in her eye, brought on by one too many strawberry wine coolers.
“Can I ask you something personal?” she leans forward, mischievously.
Peyton nods in the dark before realizing that Brooke can’t totally see her move her head. She breathes in nervously and says “Uh, sure.”
“ Why do you wear them?” Brooke’s voice has a curious tone to it, almost flirtatious. Peyton doesn’t have to ask her what she means.
“Um. They make me feel good? I guess…” she hesitates to say more.
“I figured, but in what way?” Brooke presses. Peyton doesn’t answer right away. “I mean, I’ve noticed you’ve been dressing more masculine lately…” Brooke says, reaching out and lightly snapping Peyton’s sports bra…a definite departure from the lace bras they all wore in their highschool days.
“What exactly are you asking, Brooke?” Peyton doesn’t mean to sound defensive, but her nerves are getting the best of her. She wants to run, but she doesn’t.
“What exactly are you not telling me, Peyt?” Brooke counters, and places a sticky, sweaty, hand on Peyton’s thigh. Peyton shivers despite the heat.
She takes another sip of her beer for courage.
“Do you remember the other day, when you said I’d make a good boyfriend?” Peyton blurts out.
“Yeah…” Brooke’s face twitches a bit, a smile playing on her lips.
“I mean, I don’t know. I guess that felt kind of interesting to me…” Peyton says, looking down at her feet.
“I knew it!” Brooke squeals, startling Peyton. “...I knew you liked Anna, in highschool. You said you didn’t, but I knew.”
“Brooke, I didn’t like Anna…” Peyton sighs in frustration.
“ Oh ? But you do like other girls?”
“I uh, I think so? I- I’ve never been with a girl, Brooke…” Peyton admits, her hands shaking. “I’m not sure how to talk to you about this-”
“But you’re thinking about it?” Brooke asks, taking another sip of her wine cooler, “girls?”
“I- this isn’t only about that, Brooke. It’s about how I feel comfortable presenting myself in the world, okay? I don’t know how to explain it to you without- God, I just don’t know yet, is that alright?” Peyton stops.
“Everything’s fine, Peyt. You let me know when you know, okay?” Brooke asks gently, pulling Peyton into a sweaty, sticky hug. Peyton exhales deeply, resting limply against Brooke. Her lips are inches from Brooke’s neck. She could just lean in…but she won’t.
“Peyton?” Brooke calls later that night from the doorway to her bedroom. “It’s too quiet in my room and there’s a thunderstorm outside…” Peyton has to admit the city does sound eerie with the power off.
“Somehow you end up here every night…” she says, laughing. Brooke hesitates in the doorway, not sure if she’s being uninvited. “I’m kidding! Come here, baby girl…” Peyton says, warmly. “But no snuggling tonight because it’s too goddamn hot.” Brooke giggles, slipping into bed.
Peyton tries her best to fall asleep but Brooke is tossing and turning next to her.
“Are you okay, Brooke? You’re never like this…” Peyton asks.
“Yeah, I just- I’m worried about something…God, I’m embarrassed to say…” Brooke whispers in the dark.
“Brooke, you know you can tell me anything…” Peyton whispers back. Five minutes pass in silence until Brooke finally gets the courage to speak.
“What’s going to happen to us , Peyton? You know, when you’re someone's boyfriend?”
Peyton panics. She doesn’t answer Brooke, pretends to be asleep. And in the dark, Brooke continues to toss and turn all night.
*****
“You don’t like any of the girls here, Peyt?” Brooke looks around the gay bar she’d dragged Peyton to. “What about her? She’s cute…” she points to a tattooed girl in the corner, leather jacket, beer in hand.
“Brooke, you realize that’s basically me . She’s so not my type.” Peyton jokes.
“Well, what is your type?” Brooke asks.
You. You. You. You.
“I don’t know, Brooke. Can we go? I don’t know how to talk to girls, plus I’m pretty sure they all think you’re my girlfriend, so there is no way any of them are coming over here…”
“Oh, oh. Do you want me to leave?” Brooke asks, a little pouty.
“God, no. You’re- please don’t leave , Brooke.” Peyton holds onto Brooke’s arm tightly. “I need you.” Brooke smiles, the corner of her lip twitches, her dimples on full display.
“You need me, huh? Well if you’re not gonna hit on any of these other girls, do you want to dance with me ?” Brooke asks.
Peyton’s stomach drops. She can’t say no, she doesn’t have the will power to. But this feels so risky.
She leads Brooke out onto the dance floor, more anxious with every step. She ends up settling behind her like an awkward boy at a school dance, putting her hands on Brooke’s hips tentatively. Brooke grabs Peyton’s hands, holding them on her hips more firmly. She grinds her ass slowly against the front of Peyton’s jeans, driving her insane. Peyton runs her hands over the front of Brooke’s thighs. A small moan escapes Brooke’s mouth. For a second Peyton wonders if she just imagined it until Brooke turns, slowly, and asks her “So, P. Sawyer, if I was your girlfriend, what would you do next?”
Peyton stops moving, heart pounding rapidly.
“Brooke, this isn’t a game for me…” she pleads.
“Good, because I’m not playing.” Brooke says, looking Peyton in the eye.
“This is really dangerous…” Peyton whispers.
“Why?” Brooke asks, coyly.
“You know why, Brooke…God, do you even like girls, Brooke? I don’t… I mean I can’t-…” She can’t bring herself to say the words I don’t have a dick, Brooke . What if I can’t satisfy you, Brooke?
“I know you’re not a boy , Peyton…but I’m not so sure you are a girl , either…” Brooke rasps. Peyton feels her knees go weak. To be seen is to be loved, right?
“Don’t mess with me, Brooke…unless you mean it…”
“I mean it.”
Fuck it.
Peyton takes Brooke’s face in her hands and kisses her hard. Their lips slide against each other sloppily before settling into a steady rhythm. Peyton slips her tongue past Brooke’s lips, and Brooke moans loudly into her mouth. Her hands wander along Peyton’s stomach, teasing and squeezing her tightly.
They makeout all the way home, in the back of a cab, up the stairs, through the doorway of their apartment. All teeth and tongue and desperate wanting. Brooke pulls Peyton into her bedroom, straddling her lap, pulling at Peyton’s jacket and then her tank top and then…
“Wait” Peyton whispers.
Brooke looks at her, expectantly. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“ Wait . Until Saturday.” Peyton breathes out.
“Saturday?” Brooke asks, a smile spreading across her face.
“I’m taking you on a date.”
******
Peyton makes reservations at Brooke’s favorite restaurant for Saturday night.
When the night finally arrives, she looks at herself in the mirror, wanting so much for the image inside her head to match the image she sees in front of her. She throws on a sports bra, boxer briefs, jeans, and a black tank top. She puts her curls up in a bun at the top of her head. She wipes off most of her makeup, deciding that she doesn’t want to wear it. She keeps on her signature dark lipstick though, because fuck it, she likes it. A leather jacket goes over her shoulders.
Brooke meets her in the living room of their shared apartment. She’s radiant in a silky black dress, heels, and a delicate locket hanging from her neck.
“You look absolutely stunning, Brooke.” Peyton smiles, kissing her on the cheek. “You ready?”
“God, yes. You look so… handsome ” Brooke tries out. Peyton grins from ear to ear.
At the restaurant, Peyton focuses all her energy on making Brooke feel special. Holding open doors, pulling out chairs. The conversation is engaging and wonderful but Peyton can’t help but find herself distracted. Distracted by Brooke’s stiletto running up and down her legs under the table. Brooke’s hand resting ever so slightly on her crotch. Then Brooke casually mentions that she’s not wearing any underwear under her dress and Peyton’s brain goes completely fuzzy.
“The check, please?” Peyton asks the waiter, a bit too enthusiastically, as soon as it seems reasonable to leave.
They crash through the door to their apartment, Peyton pushing Brooke’s back up against the door as she closes it and fumbles with the locks. She eagerly kisses and nips at Brooke’s neck, then her lips. She pushes at the silky material of Brooke’s dress with her hands, the material moving easily against Brooke’s thighs. Brooke strips off Peyton’s jacket, and then her tank top. Her hands loop underneath the sports bra when she feels Peyton freeze up, hesitate.
“Do you want to keep this on, baby?” Brooke asks, gently. Peyton nods, hoping that’s okay. Brooke moves on to her jeans instead, stripping them off.
“So, are you ready to find out if I was telling the truth about the underwear?” Brooke rasps, slinking away slowly towards the bedroom. Peyton exhales sharply, pausing for a moment to summon confidence, and follows Brooke.
Peyton finds Brooke laying on the bed, heels kicked off, dress pulled up just enough to show off that she was, in fact, telling the truth. Her legs are spread slightly, her bare pussy glistening with arousal.
“Fuck, Brooke…”
“Yes, please do …” Brooke whispers.
Peyton moves up the bed towards Brooke. She kisses her with no restraint, running her hands up Brooke’s thighs and under her dress until she meets the arousal dripping down her legs. She spreads Brooke’s arousal on her fingers, looking up to watch Brooke’s expression as she does it, and then enters Brooke slowly. She quickly establishes a rhythm, with Brooke bucking against her hand, moaning her name under her breath.
Her hands pause to slip Brooke’s dress over her head and then her right one re-finds its groove inside her while her left wanders to find breasts and hips and ass and thighs and every part of Brooke that she’s always wanted to touch but never let herself. Her right thumb pushes slow circles on Brooke’s clit, her fingers still pumping in and out of her.
“Fuck me, baby. Harder.” Brooke cries out and Peyton pushes harder, deeper, curling her fingers to hit that soft sensitive spot. Brooke shakes as she tumbles over the edge, arousal dripping from Peyton’s hands as she pulls out, sticky between her fingers. She imagines what Brooke’s arousal would look like dripping from a dick- from her dick-but she pushes the thought away.
Brooke is sucking on Peyton’s neck now, running her hands over her abs.
“What do you want, handsome?” Brooke asks, sending a shot of adrenaline through Peyton’s body. She panics. Fuck, what does she want?
“Uh- I’m- uh- I’m- it’s-” she stutters.
“I just want to please you, baby, you can tell me…” Brooke says.
Peyton lowers her head, looks towards her crotch, and nervously says “can you-will you pretend it’s-?” She can’t bring herself to say it.
“You want me to give you head, baby?” Brooke asks seductively. Peyton nods.
Brooke lowers Peyton’s boxer briefs, settling on the floor in between Peyton’s legs.
“You tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Brooke asks, before taking Peyton’s sensitive bud in her mouth and sucking. Her head bobs up and down as she sucks, and the visual itself is enough to send shockwaves through Peyton’s body. Brooke doesn’t use her fingers or hands, careful of Peyton’s boundaries. It’s all mouth and tongue and sucking. Peyton grabs at Brooke’s hair, encouraging her to speed up.
“Fuck, Brooke, I’m so close.” Peyton’s hips rock towards Brooke’s mouth, “You’re so good at that baby.”
Brooke responds to the encouragement, smiling slightly against Peyton as she sucks harder, pulling gently with her lips, blowing a light stream of air out of her mouth to stimulate Peyton in between the sucking, adding sensations that Peyton could never have imagined.
“Cum for me, Peyt” Brooke moans against her. Peyton feels her stomach clench and her muscles tighten as she spasms against Brooke’s mouth. Shit, that felt so damn good. She just hopes it did for Brooke, too.
*****
The rest of the summer passes too quickly, and as it does, Peyton’s anxiety about the future skyrockets. Brooke has always wanted to go to New York, for fashion school. She’s supposed to start in the fall. Peyton pictures Brooke walking down the streets of Manhattan into a highrise building where she lives with her handsome model boyfriend. After work, Brooke and the model boyfriend meet the rest of Manhattan’s socialites for drinks. Brooke is a famous designer and she’s happy with her boyfriend (who of course has a huge dick) and she never ever, not even once, thinks about the summer she spent in LA with her former best friend.
“What’re you thinking about, P. Sawyer?” Brooke asks her in the middle of one of these spirals.
She doesn’t want to tell Brooke how anxious she is. She doesn’t want to ruin anything, not on one of the very last nights they have left together in LA. “I’ve loved this summer with you, Brooke…it’s been so-”
Brooke straddles her lap now, running her hands up and down Peyton’s arms. “Hot? Magical? Sexy?” Brooke asks. Peyton smirks. “I have a surprise for you…” Brooke says nervously, “but if you don’t like it, we don’t have to-”
Peyton swallows hard. “What are you getting at, Brooke Davis?”
“I…bought you a strap…” Brooke leans down and whispers in Peyton’s ear. Oh .
Peyton stares wide eyed at Brooke for a moment. “Unless that’s not something you’d want to-” Brooke adds.
“No- I want to. I, yeah, I definitely want to.” Peyton breathes in deeply. “Where is it?”
“My bedroom.” Brooke bites her lip, taking Peyton’s hand and leading her there.
Peyton puts on the strap in the bathroom, looking in the full length mirror. A sense of what can only be described as euphoria falls over her. Maybe she should be nervous to do this for the first time, but she’s not. Not with Brooke. She takes a deep breath and walks towards the door.
Brooke is on her before she can even leave the bathroom, kissing her passionately and pushing her up against the wall. Brooke reaches in between them, grabbing the dildo, rubbing her hand up and down on it. The hilt of it rests against Peyton in just the right places as Brooke strokes it. Brooke kisses Peyton’s neck animalistically, her tongue running along Peyton’s pulse point.
Peyton leads Brooke over to the bed. “Sit” she directs, and then stands in front of Brooke until her length is just inches from Brooke’s mouth. Brooke doesn’t have to ask what Peyton wants her to do. She takes the length of the dildo in her mouth, sucking expertly. Her mouth moves up and down on the cock as Peyton moans, watching Brooke pleasure her. Brooke looks up at Peyton then, mischief in her eyes.
“Do you want to fuck me?” she asks, before capturing Peyton’s cock in her mouth again. In a flurry of arms and legs, Brooke ends up on all fours on the bed, Peyton standing behind her. Peyton runs a finger through her arousal, and Brooke cries out in impatience.
Peyton enters her with two fingers first, as a warm up, and Brooke pushes back into them. “God, I’m ready, please Peyton, don’t make me wait.”
Peyton pushes into Brooke slowly with the cock, giving her a moment to accommodate it before pushing her hips forward at an even pace. She speeds up, reveling in the moans coming out of Brooke’s mouth. When she can tell that Brooke is getting close, she changes positions, flipping Brooke onto her back, entering her again and again. She uses her thumb on Brooke’s clit until Brooke is writhing in pleasure. “Fuck, Peyton, I’m going to-” Brooke screams, orgasming hard around the dildo. Peyton is shocked when she feels that familiar fire building in her own body, a response to the stimulation from the strap and the visual in front of her, sending an orgasm ripping through her as she nearly collapses on top of Brooke. Brooke raises her eyebrows as if to ask Did you just…? and Peyton nods, laughing.
“So it’s safe to say you liked it?” Brooke asks, sitting up and kissing Peyton, giggling against her lips.
***
At the very end of the summer, Brooke is nervously pacing the apartment when Peyton gets home from her internship.
“So, I wanted to talk to you…” she blurts out when Peyton walks through the door. “We’re supposed to go back to Tree Hill to visit in just a few days…” Brooke rambles “and then I’m supposed to be moving to New York, but I was thinking maybe I-…”
Peyton sucks in a breath. She has been dreading this day, this conversation.
“I- I get it…” she says. “We don’t have to do this…” she says, fighting back tears. She sits on their couch, a picture of defeat.
“Get what? Do what?” Brooke asks “I’m trying to talk to you about the future…” Brooke sits down next to her.
“I’ll be okay, when you get a real boyfriend, Brooke….” she says, with an edge to her voice. An armor. She gets up and moves to the kitchen, looking out the window. She can’t make herself look at Brooke.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Peyton?” Brooke asks, exasperated.
“What? I’m just trying to prepare myself for when you realize I’m not-that I can’t- really give you what you want…”
“What are you talking about, baby?” Brooke asks “I don’t understand- have I not been supportive?”
“You’ve been amazing, Brooke. But I- what if I can’t satisfy you forever? I can’t give you kids, Brooke. I know you want kids…”
Brooke approaches Peyton from behind, wrapping her body around Peyton’s, hands running up her abs, under her shirt.
“Is this why you still haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend?” Brooke asks. “You think you’re not man enough for me, or something? Peyton, I love you for you . Boy, girl, somewhere in between. We can adopt kids, we can do IVF, I don’t care. As long as I’m yours .”
“You want to be my girlfriend?” Peyton asks, grinning wide, spinning around to face Brooke.
“Oh my god, obviously …” Brooke says, exasperated.
“And you really love me back?” Peyton asks, waiting for confirmation.
“Jesus Peyton, yes. I’ve been in love with you since we were thirteen years old.” Brooke huffs.
“Seriously?!” Peyton’s eyes go wide.
“Yes, seriously! How can you be so damn handsome, and yet so clueless...” Brooke teases, kissing Peyton softly against the kitchen counter. Peyton just smiles against Brooke’s lips.
“So, now that that’s settled, let’s get back to talking about our plans for the future. Okay with you, boyfriend ?”