What Brockton Bay calls a club would only generously be referred to as such back home, but when needs must, you make do. And with how quickly everything was falling apart with Mother and Father, the constant clashing over my present and future and what they held…? Well, the need to escape was most certainly there. And Elena was that escape. That escape and so, so much more.

We didn’t always go to clubs. Coffee shops like our first date were common, as were excursions to Boston for shopping, the beaches north and south of the Bay, or Captain’s Hill and the forests west of it to hike. Anywhere and everywhere that interested us that Elena deemed safe enough safe from the prying eyes of her family, their gang, and the hatred they share for people like us. But clubs…

A sea of sensation. Harmony and dissonance caressed my ear like Elena’s hands, their electric touch leaving searing tracks in their wake as they flitted over my skin to grip my hips, to snake up my shirt over my belly, to stroke my— I choked out a gasp, my own discordant addition to the cacophony, my vision flickering in time with my fluttering eyes and the staccato lights cutting through the dark only to leave it whole. An ephemeral wound torn anew over and over, the backdrop to Elena’s ministrations and the mass of bodies we were both a part of and apart from.

I wanted more. How could I not? I had dreamed of it since the first day she called, when I had locked myself away in the room set aside for me and collapsed into bed, utterly exhausted from the opening volleys of the war that thereafter would quickly become a constant when in my parents’ presence. But I had managed to temper the demands of my heart and body with the reality of her predicament. Elena’s life—not to mention our excursions—were paid for by her well paying job at her family’s company. I knew firsthand what it meant to live from day to day, the twisting knot of hunger as I ate every grain of rice in fear of when I would get more. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—ask her to throw it away, much less for me.

But I could dream. And on the dance floor with Elena at my side, it was all too easy to dream of her whispering in my ear, each honeyed word only just audible over the din, “Come back to my place?” To dream of my breathless, “Yes,” snuck in between gasps for air and the needy noises I simply couldn’t contain as Elena and I moved together to the beat of the pulsing music that would fill my ears with ringing echoes for hours afterwards.

A whine slipped out of me when she took my hand and led me to the door, leaving me grateful for the heat of exertion upon my cheeks to cloak my embarrassment. Having nearly made a fool of myself in front of the woman who had in mere months become a nearly daily fixture in my life, I held my tongue as we traded the near stifling heat of the club for the frigid Winter air for the just as shiver-inducing leather of her car seats. Still, though my tongue was held, my hands felt no such compunctions, creeping over the soft corduroy of her skirt to toy with her leg where fabric gave way to skin. Her face and posture gave nothing away, her stormy gray eyes lost in the dark of the car, but the pads of my fingers felt her suppressed shiver beneath their touch.

I got lost in a game of my own making, trying to eke more reactions out of her as I waited for her to drive me to the end of my block, already resigned to the cold walk down the street to where we lived and the even colder glares within. We came to a stop, Elena turned the key, and as the hum of the car’s engine faded away, I finally tore my gaze from the hem of her skirt.

“Where…?” left my lips before I could quite help it, the scene before me alien.

I could scarcely believe it when Elena shakily pointed down the street to an upscale apartment building with a gold gilded marble awning that probably cost more than our house. “We need to take the back entrance. The doorman is sympathetic to… well, you know. Not to mention in Father’s pocket.”

My heart thundered so loud I could hear it in my ears as we snuck in, ducking into the stairwell and away from dangerous, hateful eyes. Elena’s whispered explanation that her family was all occupied with business—I pointedly did not want to know what kind—was our only company as we ascended a floor before quitting the stairs in favor of the elevator. Because she lived too high to reasonably climb by foot. On the top floor. In the penthouse.

The urge was there to comment, to remark about the needlessly expensive furnishing of the common areas, about the smoothest elevator I had ever ridden in my life, about the living room unironically large enough to contain the entirety of our house. The urge was strong, but my desire for this stupidly—stupidly—rich woman was stronger.

So strong I nearly charged ahead, unthinking and brazen, when the fear filled her eyes as I reached for the zipper of her dress. Nearly. “Elena?”

“Alexia… I…” Her shivers were no longer muted, so amplified I genuinely feared her knees might buckle.

She was not a virgin. I couldn’t remember when she had told me, only that it had been with a man her father had chosen for her and that she had been repulsed by the experience. I, however, had enjoyed my own encounters—particularly with him—enough times by my senior year of high school that Masuyo had been all but inevitable. But I still remembered my first time. Remembered the fear of the unknown.

I could only imagine her fear at something she knew she wanted but had been raised to hate.

I gently took her hands in my own. “It’s okay. We can take it slow.” I softly added a beat later, “If you’re not ready…?”

“No!” Her response was so sudden and unlike the refined woman I had come to care so deeply for. “No, I— I want to, just… Yes. Slowly. Please…?”

“Of course.”

I slowly raised one of my hands, her own still clasped within it, to her zipper. With me guiding her, she unzipped herself, revealing an exquisite set of lingerie and skin that almost gleamed in the moonlight streaming in through the floor to ceiling, wall to wall glass window. I let her dress pool to the ground but left her bra and panties, savoring the way they accentuated her figure as I guided her down onto the bed and coaxed her further back, over the comforter—fuck, it was so stupidly soft and obviously expensive—towards the pillows carefully arranged against the headboard.

Elena looked so fragile there, swathed in silvery light, all too dark shadow, and her deliciously revealing underwear. I could scarcely believe she was the same woman who had saved me from two men twice her size. I shivered both from how lovely and vulnerable she was and from the memory of headless men and their lifeless eyes crawling over me.

“Alexia?”

“Sorry.” We were alone in a too spacious room in an equally cavernous apartment, but to speak louder than a whisper felt like sacrilege. “I’m… I’m okay.”

I could only just barely see her eyes widen at that. “Alexia,” she breathed out, my name—my name, not the one my parents had forced me that I had all but cast aside, but my name with her—spoken with such feeling. “You don’t have to— We can just… just watch a movie or something.”

Just watch a movie. Just watch a movie, when I had Elena arrayed before me, willing to risk her home—every comfort she had in her life—for me? To bring me here, for this moment?

She started to rise, and I moved. I moved, though my suddenly lurching into motion was awkward approach at best. But she stopped. And she didn’t flee. I would take it.

“I’m okay.” I lean in and kiss her deeply, nearly moaning from the feeling of her lips on my own.

It was only once we had both thoroughly explored one another’s mouths and bruised each other’s lips that we pulled apart to take a proper breath. She only just managed an, “Okay is good,” before I dove in for more.

I trailed kisses down her neck and collarbone until I reached the strap of her lacy bra, and feeling frisky, I took it in my teeth and pulled back just a bit with a growl before letting it lightly snap against her chest. The absurdity of what I’d done struck me immediately—Elena’s nervous giggles doubtlessly played a part—but I’d come too far to let a little embarrassment stop me. I pulled myself up until I was straddling her, which felt fucking amazing, then reached around to undo her bras clasps, revealing—

Oh. Wow.

My silence dragged on long enough that Elena eventually self-consciously muttered, “What? Is— Is something wrong with them?”

Well, I couldn’t have asked for a better opening if I tried. “What’s wrong with them? Absolutely nothing. You are fucking stunning.”

“You’re just—!” Words failed her as I cupped her breasts in my hands and gently ran the pads of my thumbs over her nipples, getting a feeling for the damn near too perfect curves and dragging a ragged moan from her delightfully swollen lips.

“Seriously, how are you not a model?” I didn’t bother to hide my reverence as I continued to massage them. “Why are you working for a goddamn pharmaceutical company instead of strutting down a runway?”

“Ha,” Elena breathed out, seeming half an acknowledgment and half an outburst of pleasure. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Everywhere, you say?” My mouth found its way to the skin between her collarbone and breasts and eagerly resumed its southerly march. My left hand remained, its thumb still gently tracing her nipple and the soft tissue around it, while my right slid down her side to knead her hip. My abandonment of her breast elicited a whine of complaint from her I was quite certain she would deny if asked, but my tongue scraping across her swollen nipple drew a husky groan of undeniable need from her. It was a struggle to contain my urge to taste every inch of her, but I managed. The thought of her fleeing from me was enough to reign me in.

Still, going slow was not the same as staying still, and my right hand was anything but still in its careful, unhurried exploration from Elena’s soft hip inwards. Unhurried wasn’t the right word—my anxious as fuck and only just barely hiding it exploration rang far truer. As my hand approached its goal, it abruptly occurred to me that I should give Elena’s other breast my tongue’s attention. Attempting to parse the logistics of switching my mouth and off hand without being awkward or making one—or more likely both—of us uncomfortable made me fumble my pace. I only just barely stopped myself from faltering altogether with a well reasoned, “Your hand is busy,” to myself, as if my brain needed reminding what my right hand was doing.

Surprisingly it was Elena who apparently needed reminding of what I was doing. I had thought she could feel my fingers brushing over her leg, but when they reached the lacy fabric of her underwear, she nearly bucked underneath my touch. “Oh, fuck me.”

I pulled back from her breast and fixed her with a grin. Hearing Elena utter something so filthy was a rarity to be treasured. “Yes, that is the idea.”

I swore her eyebrow twitched. “You are incorrigible.”

“Mmm, pretty sure that’s a fifteen-pointer in Scrabble.” My fingers traced where lace met skin. I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to hide my nervousness “Permission to come aboard, captain?”

My light-hearted, dorky banter seemed to be having its intended effect, since her legs muscles only slightly tensed up instead of the frozen, taut mess I expected. “A-Alexia, I… I…”

When she trailed off, seemingly unable to continue, I softly murmured, “You can… say no, if you’re not ready.” God, please be ready. “I promised to go slowly. Whatever pace you want.”

Elena blew out a hot breath of air, suddenly seeming almost irritated, whether with me or herself I didn’t know. “How can you be so put together when I’m the first woman you’ve been with? Surely you are at least somewhat nervous as well?”

I couldn’t help the small chuckle that pulled from me, and at the look that elicited from her, I hurried to explain, “I’m crazy nervous. Honest.” Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I don’t say. Admitting that in the privacy of my own thoughts was dangerous enough. To say it aloud was out of the question. “I’m nervous and excited, and I’ve been trying to keep things light because I knew you’d probably be terrified from being raised a—”

I froze, thankfully one word short of actually voicing her upbringing, but nevertheless horrified I had brought it up now of all times. Stupid. What was I thinking? I chanced a glance at Elena and was unsurprised to see her stony expression. I needed to say something, anything, to salvage the situation, but the silence dragged on between us when I came up empty. Burning with shame, I pulled away.

Elena’s hand took my own before I was out of reach, and I stilled under the intensity of her gaze. The stormy gray depths held me captive, utterly incapable of even considering leaving. Her free hand made a surprise reappearance at my waist, and I did not squeak. Elena’s abruptly amused expression was purely a coincidence.

“I want this. I want you.” A shiver, both terrified and needy, ran up my spine. Three simple words, and I was undone.

Her hand slipped under my blouse, fingertips ghosting up my belly and over my far simpler bra, bringing the hem up with them. I shifted, to make it easier for her to pluck my top off, then I was half naked before her, my heart in my throat as her eyes swept over my exposed skin. I genuinely forgot the scar until her fingers were already tracing it, their feather light touch filling me with burning need and shame of its presence.

“C-section?” Mortified, I cannot even manage a minute nod as I clench my eyes shut, so I don’t have to see the revulsion I can already imagine overtaking Elena’s face. I was wholly unprepared for her to cup my chin for a soft, chaste kiss.

“Alexia.” The pad of her thumb rubbed over my chin in small, nonsensical arcs, the tender touch filling me with a kernel of bravery that pulled me out of my shell enough to open my eyes. ‘Gentle’ was the only word that could describe the look in Elena’s eyes. No, that was a lie. ‘Loving’ also fit, but I dared not ascribe it to her even as I fervently hoped for it with every ounce of my being. “I want you, scars and all.”

My breath caught, and I couldn’t quite stop the lone tear that escaped me. Elena gently thumbed it away then pulled me in for another kiss, the two of us sinking back into the sheets and one another’s embrace. Eventually her fingers found the band of my skirt.

It was a long time before either of us fell asleep, and when I woke, it was to the rising sun, tangled limbs, and the sound of an opening door.