that's what friends are for
Amber had never been particularly nice.
That much was evident when Tara met her at the impressionable age of four.
Pre-school is really quite similar to reality TV, Tara realizes in retrospect, only with smaller people who didn't know how to fully form coherent sentences yet.
Uttering stupid was the most heinous crime you could commit, sand from the playbox was thrown into each other's eyes, kids were proposing on the playground with cherry-flavored ring pops.
And it was easy. As hectic and crazed as it was, things didn't matter as much, her days were filled with popsicles and coloring books, the worst thing imaginable being if they ran out of strawberry-flavored jello cups at lunch.
Except things with Amber weren't easy, at least not at first.
Tara offered to share her crayons during break time and Amber declined.
When she asked to push Amber on the swings, the girl didn't even spare her a response before walking away.
And it was rather disappointing because Amber looked like the most interesting person in the entire classroom, including Ms. Becker who wore a skirt covered in rubber duckies the day before.
Amber's eyes are this abyssal brown that often hold no sign of life. She finished her assignments far quicker than any of the other students, and Tara knew that she completed them perfectly because when she saw Ms. Becker grading them at her desk there was always a satisfied grin on her face.
Her jet-black hair contrasted a bit oddly with her pale skin, and she didn't talk.
Like... ever.
Tara's heard her voice like once maybe and it was to ask to go to the restroom.
And that didn't go unnoticed by just Tara, no, the other kids gossiped about her insistently. She was like the classroom celebrity, an enigma.
"I heard her parents kill people," Chad had randomly blurted out one day at lunch.
"No," His twin corrected him, "Her house is haunted by people that got killed."
The gossiping wasn't even contained to the preschoolers, even the adults had something to say.
"I couldn't ever imagine raising a little girl in that house," She had heard a couple lunch monitors discussing behind her a few days ago.
"I mean, really, that's no environment for a child. Look at how miserable she is!"
Tara had let her eyes wander to Amber's little frame, sat by herself a few tables over. She was hunched over, holding her ham and cheese sandwich with both hands with her eyes glued to her tray.
Tara had never realized impassiveness could look so pretty.
A group of girls sitting at the table behind Amber were overtly talking about her, not even having the decency to hide it as they giggled and pointed at Amber's figure.
One of the girls, who Tara had labeled as the 'rude redhead,' had sacrificed one of the fries on her tray to toss directly at Amber's head, landing in her black hair.
Amber, unbothered, had just picked the fry out of her hair and popped it into her mouth, going back to her sandwich.
It must not have been the reaction they were vying for, because another girl grabbed her chocolate milk carton and splashed it onto Amber's back, spoiling her pretty floral shirt.
Tara couldn't see her reaction, but she saw Amber's posture kind of seize up at the contact, the cold liquid running down her back as it soaked into her clothes.
A teacher saw and was already sauntering over, but Tara was impassioned by what she had just witnessed. She'd always been emotional, especially as a child, operating on a do first, think later mentality, so when she shot up from the lunch bench, grabbed her own milk carton, and practically sprinted towards the little posse, there was almost nothing that could've stopped her from her warpath.
The milk is pouring over that wretched little girl's head before that teacher can even blink, and Tara had quickly emptied the entire thing onto her blonde head.
She received a week of no recess after that, but she found it worth it because the next day at lunch while she's sat, munching on a piece of cheese pizza, Amber had ambushed her from behind, gently tapping her shoulder.
As soon as Tara turned around, she was presented with another strawberry jello cup.
"These are your favorite, right?" Amber had asked, "You get one every day," And it's said matter of factly, like it's a quirk Amber had noted and memorized from afar.
And Tara had barely been able to nod in the midst of her wonderment.
Amber's voice was so incredibly soft, something Tara supposes she never really grew out of. It's gentle, and smooth, and sort of perfectly rounded out like a rock that's been bashed against a waterfall for years.
It's so unexpected from someone who appeared so callous, so cold. But it wasn't unwelcome. It just quickly become one of Tara's favorite things about her, and that was saying a lot because the list unexpectedly became very long.
"Here," Amber placed it into Tara's reluctant hand, "I don't really like jello, the texture freaks me out."
And it was a lie. Tara knew it was a lie because sometimes she saw Amber eating an orange-flavored one at snack time, or occasionally grape, which made her cringe, but she took the offering anyways, a small smile gracing the corner of her lips.
"Would you like to sit with us?" Tara asked, and she watched Amber eye the empty seat next to her, before warily eying Chad, Mindy, and Wes across from her, who all gave her a welcome smile.
"Personally, I hate milk." Mindy humored, pushing her carton away from her even though she drank one religiously every day (her mom made her,) but it works because Amber did hesitantly sit next to her, sort of on the edge like she was ready to bolt.
"I'm Tara," She had introduced herself.
"Amber," She replied, but of course, they all already knew that.
"Thank you," She had muttered quietly, "For what you did yesterday."
Tara had only shrugged, cheeky grin in place, "That's what friends are for."
This is the statement that resonates in Tara's head as Amber cranes her head up towards her face, hesitating just briefly.
For a second, Tara thinks that she's gonna kiss her lips, but at the last second, she swerves and places a lingering kiss on the corner of Tara's mouth, before trailing a few more down the side of her jaw.
That's what friends are for.
It's all incredibly soft, almost gentle. The touch is comforting, sweet pecks along the side of her neck almost in reverence, and it's the last thing she expects from Amber Freeman whose words are so sharp they slice her victims with malice, whose demeanor was so aloof she scared people away with a simple glance.
This Amber was sweet and tender, not handling her like she was about to break, but like she was worth keeping intact.
"You're sure?" Amber asks breathily against Tara's skin, the air fanning hotly against the area.
Tara nods vigorously, "Yes," She squeezes out, just to emphasize her eagerness, "Please."
And Amber pushes up into her more insistently, with purpose. Her lips press firm, opened-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat, and Tara can't help but arch down into the touch.
Even when Amber begins to use her teeth, grazing against the sensitive skin, she never lingers or sucks onto one spot long enough to leave a mark. Tara isn't sure if she prefers this yet.
She purses her lips together, actively trying to repress the moans that claw at her throat, begging to be graced upon Amber's ears, and she's almost successful until Amber sucks suddenly on her pulse point, making her mouth fall open as a low whine tumbles out.
Again, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to leave Tara wishing she did.
Tara's so caught up in the sensations that she doesn't realize Amber tilt her body to the side, reaching down to blindly grab at the lever to pull the foot stand back into the chair so that she can sit up more easily.
The unanticipated momentum of being hoisted back upright almost makes Tara fall backward off her lap, but Amber quickly wraps her arms around the entirety of her waist, keeping her in place.
Amber only takes time to part away from Tara's smooth skin to mumble a quick, "Sorry," But Tara barely registers it anyways, her hands now gripping the top of the recliner behind Amber's head.
For a moment she worries that she's going to rip the fabric, and that's the last thing she wants to do because she's certain that the piece of furniture is worth the down payment of a small yacht.
After a while of Amber mindlessly licking and kissing at her neck, Tara's hips begin to unconsciously roll forward, desperately seeking some sort of friction.
Amber paws at her waist, not exactly guiding her movements, but not stalling them either.
She kisses back up to Tara's ear, taking the lobe between her teeth before she asks, "Have you ever masturbated before?"
The question makes Tara's hips stutter as her grip on the cushion briefly tightens.
"W-what?" She utters breathlessly, caught off guard by the question.
She can practically feel Amber's grin when she playfully nips the side of her neck.
"What," Amber coos, her voice so sexily raspy that Tara briefly wishes that she could set it as her morning alarm or something. It sure would be a hell of a way to wake up. "Don't tell me Tara Carpenter is too innocent for that too."
And maybe it's the way that her name rolls off of Amber's tongue, slow and drawn out, almost like she's waving a worm in front of a starving snapper, but Tara suddenly feels like she has something to prove.
She pulls back, just enough to see Amber's face. "I do," She swallows a lump in her throat, "Why?"
And like the poor unsuspecting fish, Tara had ignorantly bitten right onto the hook.
Amber grins up at her, cheshire like, and so incredibly devious it sends another surge of heat straight down between her legs.
"How?" Amber asks, letting the question hang between them as Tara dumbly slow blinks down at her.
"How, what?" She questions back, eyebrows slightly drawn together in confusion.
Somehow Amber's grin only widens as she digs her fingers even deeper into Tara's waist, meeting the skin that was sneakily peeking through from her shirt riding up.
Amber rephrased her question. "What do you do when you masturbate?"
And Tara freezes, like stiffens up so much that Amber is certain if she tried to move her she'd stay in the exact same position like a statue.
It makes her giggle.
Amber leans forward again, repeatedly pecking Tara's chin before she cranes up to plant some on the apple of her cheek. "You're so cute, I swear I could stick you in my pocket."
It makes Tara pout, gently pushing at Amber's shoulders. Her face was on fire.
"Stop teasing," She lamely mutters, turning her head away from Amber's gaze
"I'm not," Amber defends herself, still laughing just a little. She felt a bit guilty about making Tara so embarrassed, even if it was slightly intentional. "I just wanna know what you like. It makes my job easier."
When Tara still doesn't answer, Amber slips her hands under Tara's shirt, not straying very far up but carefully scraping her nails against her ribs as she resumes kissing Tara's neck.
She wanders along the same path that she did before, starting just under Tara's left ear before making her way to the right, only occasionally deviating to lick along Tara's barely exposed collarbone.
It makes Tara unconsciously pick up the movement of her hips again, small ministrations back and forth, seeking friction.
A quiet moan escapes her lips when Amber's lips attach to the juncture between her neck she shoulder, lightly biting the sensitive skin.
"Tell me," She gently urges, "Let me take care of you."
Tara sighs, relenting. This was the same girl she'd known since she was four, who literally used to watch her pick her boogers and eat play dough for sustenance. This was just adding to the already very intimate list of things they knew about each other.
"I-" She cuts herself off, hesitating just for a second, sheerly because of how embarrassed she felt admitting it. "I usually just hump a pillow or something," She murmurs, barely loud enough for Amber to hear her properly.
And again, Tara can feel Amber's grin against her skin, but instead of laughing or poking fun at her like Tara expects her to do, Amber just slowly pulls back, her smile on full display.
She nods her head, "Okay."
Tara peers at her warily, "Okay?"
Amber nods again, fully pulling back.
Tara thinks that that's it. She messed it up. Amber thinks she's some sexually inept loser who fucks a pillow, but Amber just leans in to quickly peck her nose before saying, or more requesting, "Take off your pants."
Tara looks at her like she isn't quite sure if she heard her right, but Amber nods in confirmation, restating, "Take them off."
So Tara does.
She shimmies off of Amber's lap and peels off her sweats along with her underwear, quickly wanting to reposition herself back onto Amber, but the girl grabs onto her hips again, stilling her before she can fully lower herself down.
She removes one hand from Tara's waist so that she can nudge her leg, repositioning it so that Tara was straddling her right thigh instead of her body.
It's only then that Amber allows her to sink her body weight back down onto her and-
Oh.
Oh.
Oh fuck is about the only thing she can coherently say right now as her hot center makes direct contact with the warmth of Amber's bare thigh.
This was definitely not the same as a pillow.
Amber's thigh is firm and a bit muscly from her frequent gym visits.
Tara can hardly find the brain capacity to feel embarrassed when everything just felt so good.
Amber begins to guide her movements, pulling her down and forward roughly against her thigh.
Because of the way Tara was straddling her, every time she rutted forward her knee would press directly against Amber's core, and if Amber pulls her in more harshly because of it, that's for her, and her to know.
The sounds of their panting get interwoven, filling the large living room area.
Tara isn't as loud as Amber thought she would be. Her moans are more like little gasps that get stuck in her throat, her whimpers low and quiet.
And Amber had embarrassingly thought about it a lot over the course of the last couple of days, but even if it's unexpected, it's entirely welcome and she can't help but think that Tara sounds as pretty as she looks, with her eyes tightly squeezed shut and her mouth slightly parted.
Tara's hands shoot away from the cushion behind Amber's head and instead latch onto her shoulders, using Amber's body to better leverage her movements.
"Better than a pillow?" Amber asks, just to be an asshole, but also because she wants to hear it from Tara's lips. It'll add to her already concerningly large ego.
It doesn't get Tara to peel her eyes open, simply because she knows she'll be met with an arrogant smile if she does. Leave it to Amber to still be annoyingly narcissistic, even during sex. "You're such a bitch," She grits out, and it's almost painful to squeeze the words out because she has to divert her attention away from how good everything feels in order to form coherent words.
And, yeah, okay. Amber was infuriatingly conceited, but, god, it was deserved.
The insult really holds no substance when Tara was fucking herself so unabashed against her leg.
Amber grins. "If I was really a bitch, I would do this," She grips Tara's hips strongly enough to stop her movements, slightly lifting them to break the contact.
Tara moans and it's the loudest sound that's escaped from her lips the entire night, something that Amber would circle back to later.
She doesn't fight against the hold, staying where Amber's hands keep her.
"Amber," She whines, finally opening her heavy lids to peer desperately into the ones in front of her. It makes another surge of wetness flood Amber's underwear.
"Hm?" Amber hums in question, feigning innocence.
Tara kind of stares at her with a look that says are you really going to make me say it?
And Amber's teasing smirk only confirms.
"Yes," Tara mumbles, staring defiantly into Amber's eyes.
Amber leans forward, tilting her ear towards Tara's lips. "What was that, sweetheart?" She teases, baiting her, "You know I can't hear you when you mumble."
Tara bites her tongue in annoyance. For someone so hot, Amber really was a brat.
Sam didn't affectionately call her the brat-tamer for nothing though.
Tara wedges her hand down between their bodies, cupping her hand against Amber's scorching center over her shorts, and presses her palm right where her clit would be.
It makes her groan, her eyes shutting as her head falls forward against Tara's shoulder at the pressure.
Amber's hips begin to cant up too, eagerly trying to alleviate the desperation that had gnawed its way into her bones.
"Fuck," She hisses sharply, her small gasps getting lost in Tara's neck as she roughly mouths at the skin.
And it almost makes Tara hesitant to execute her devious little plan, because in what world is she living in where Amber Freeman is compliant, almost aching for her touch. But it did feel pretty good to humble her every once in a while.
"Y'know," Tara comments into her ear, "At this rate, you'll come before I do."
Tara pulls her hand away, and Amber whines, like actually, honest to god whimpers at the loss of contact.
And Tara had always known that maybe Amber was a bit more... lenient when it came to her.
Sometimes buying her a pick me up coffee without asking, never reprimanding her when she sang too loudly in the car.
But this- this was not the same as knowing she was immune from Amber's indifference, to her often rude and uncaring remarks.
This was power; thawing a cold, and impassive heart in her hands, and making it beat at her will.
"We can't have that, can we?" Tara croons into her ear, quickly becoming obsessed with just how obvious Amber was with her desire. "Might ruin your rep."
And Tara gets the reaction she was vying for, because when she leans back all she sees is Amber's concentrated look of determination before she harshly being pulled back down, the hands guiding her hips moving with more vigor than before.
"You're such a little shit," Amber mumbles, not with the intent to degrade, but because insults were her primary form of affection.
Amber flexes her thigh, lifting it up just slightly, but it makes Tara release a loud cry, the pleasure so overwhelming that she shoots forward to bury her face in Amber's neck, fully wrapping her arms around Amber's body. It felt like she couldn't get close enough.
But Tara doesn't stay there long because one of Amber's hand's tangles in the back of her hair and gently pulls her head out.
"Nuh uh, pretty girl. I wanna hear you." And it makes Tara let out a filthy whimper, desperate to please.
Tara lets her forehead fall against Amber's, and the overwhelming urge to be as close to Amber as possible never quite leaves her.
She pushes herself against Amber as much as she can, their chests brushing against each other through their shirts with every rut forward.
Tara's hips begin to get jerkier and Amber has a hard time keeping up. Her pants and moans get fanned onto Amber's cupid's bow, and it takes every ounce of her willpower not to surge forward and kiss her, for fear of swallowing and smothering the needy noises.
"Amber," Tara moans again, and it quickly becomes her favorite sound, "I think I'm-" Her voice gets cut off with another moan, "Fuck," She curses loud and unfiltered, grinding down with abandon, chasing her orgasm, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Tara shifts her head so that their cheeks are pressed together, her parted lips hovering right in front of Amber's eager ear.
It kind of bothers Amber that she isn't able to see Tara's face as she comes, but the strangled groan that gets released right against her earlobe is enough to satiate her. For now.
Consistently, Tara isn't very loud when she orgasms either. It's more of this choked gasp as she seizes up, riding out the wave of her climax as the gushing wetness generously coats the inside of her thighs, and Amber's as a result.
Amber revels in every sound Tara makes though, commits it to memory as Tara, finally spent, slumps fully against Amber's body, her face once again taking refuge in the curve of her neck, desperately trying to even out her breathing.
Amber reluctantly lifts her, swiftly getting Tara up and off her body so that she can grab her spare inhaler in her room.
Quickly returning, she hands the little piece of plastic to Tara's thankful hands, which raise to her lips while she sucks in a sharp inhale.
Tara leans back against the recliner, letting the plushness swallow her as her quick and sporadic pants level out into deep breaths.
She eyes Amber who's still standing off to the side, a small sheen of sweat covering her forehead while she smirks obnoxiously down at Tara's tiny figure being engulfed by the cushions.
Tara's gaze strays down to Amber's thigh, shamelessly glistening with her cum, and pink overtakes her cheeks again.
She kind of wants to lick it off, just for curiosity's sake, but she feels weird asking so she simply peels her eyes away.
Amber straddles her now, switching their positions from before, but she doesn't sit as far up on Tara's lap. She drops herself down near Tara's knees, practically on the edge, and sits back.
Tara wordlessly hands her back the inhaler, which Amber sets on the small side table.
She brushes Tara's bangs out of her eyes, lightly sticking to her forehead from the layer of sweat, and tucks them behind her ears as best she can.
They keep falling loose but Amber's fingers are dutifully there to retuck them each time.
"You okay, baby cakes?" Amber's pet names were always so weird.
Tara nods her head.
It kinda gives her deja vu of their first kiss, the odd serenity that followed after. Tara had always held this sort of frantic energy, her mind incessantly racing, but like their first kiss, like now, her thoughts were welcomingly calm, the only thing pervading them being how pretty Amber looked right now.
If Tara thought Amber was attractive under her, it was nothing compared to Amber on top.
Tara lets her eyes droop shut. She always got pretty sleepy afterward, but Amber lightly pinches her.
"No sleeping on the couch."
"I'm just resting my eyes." It's really only a half-lie.
Amber stares down at her relaxed expression and finds it hard to shoo this warmth simmering in her stomach, definitely not associated with arousal.
She leans down to kiss Tara's forehead before she climbs off Tara's lap, settling down on her knees in front of the recliner instead.
The rustling makes Tara blearily peel an eye open before they practically bulge out of her head when she sees where Amber is kneeling.
Amber gingerly places her hands on Tara's knees, "Can you go again?" She asks, looking up with big, doe eyes. If Tara weren't sitting she's certain her legs would've given out and she'd be eating dirt.
It almost startles Tara, Amber's expression. She was usually so self-assured, confident, and untouchable, but she was looking up at Tara with this lingering question in her eyes and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
She must be staring for too long though and her silence makes Amber backtrack.
She removes her hands, "Sorry, you're probably tired, we should ju-" And she moves to stand up, but Tara is shooting forward, off the back of the chair and pushing her back down by the shoulders.
Amber lands on her knees again with a small thud, her hands falling back on Tara's legs to keep herself from falling over.
"I can go again," Tara quickly asserts, her legs already subconsciously parting to give Amber some more room.
Amber smiles at her eagerness but still looks a bit wary. "You sure? We can totally go to bed, pick up in the morning?" And the promise of this not just being a one-time thing makes Tara's heart jump enthusiastically in her chest.
But Tara shakes her head, "No, I'm okay. I want to."
Amber nods, pushing Tara's legs further apart, "Okay," She assures, placing a sweet kiss on each of Tara's knees which were covered in random bruises she had accumulated from her clumsiness.
She pulls Tara a bit closer to the edge of the seat, hoisting one of her legs over her shoulder in the process.
Amber can't even find it in herself to think it's weird that she hasn't even removed an article of clothing yet, and that Tara is still covered from the waist up.
It's oddly casual, and she finds it fitting for their dynamic.
It's nothing like any of her usual hook-ups, and somehow it feels distinctly better.
She grabs Tara's hands, guiding them into her thick, wavy hair. "Keep it up for me?" She asks, "I don't have a hair tie."
Tara nods, maybe a bit too eagerly as she gathers up the black strands and holds them up behind Amber's head in a makeshift ponytail.
She loved Amber's hair. It was so smooth and it always smelled good.
Amber kisses the inside of Tara's knee in thanks before turning her head and placing wet kisses along the inside of her thigh, slowly trailing her way up until she can taste the remnants of Tara's last orgasm.
It makes her moan against the skin, lapping up the wetness with her tongue until the tanginess subsides.
It's almost addictive, and she finds it hard to pull away, even just for a moment.
She moves onto the other thigh and repeats, carefully dragging her tongue against the sensitive skin until the grip on her hair became painful.
Amber takes one glance up, hovering just in front of where Tara needs her most, and is almost surprised to see that Tara is already looking down at her, her eyes almost black and her bottom lip sucked between her teeth.
Amber was going to see her face this time. She was going to make sure of it.
She licks a long stripe from Tara's entrance up to her clit, making Tara throw her head back with a moan so scandalous it borders on pornographic.
Both of her legs hook over Amber's shoulders now, and she digs her heels into Amber's back, trying to bring her impossibly closer.
Amber does this a few more times, broad and slow strokes before she wraps around Tara's already sensitive clit, gently sucking.
It makes Tara gasp, louder than their last round, and she cants up, trying to get more but Amber's hands pull down on her hips, keeping her still.
"Amber," Tara gasps out, "Need," She stutters on a moan, "More."
And Amber is keen to oblige, removing her tongue from Tara's clit to slowly circle around her awaiting opening, once, then twice, before she slides it in as far as she can.
Tara swears that she's on the verge of tears as her throat releases a borderline scream.
She understood now why Amber received all those dirty stares around campus, why all her one-night stands borderline stalked her, begging for just another rendezvous.
Because if she got to experience the highest form of ecstasy for one night, only to find out that she'd never encounter it again, she'd be fucking pissed too.
Amber's nose presses snugly against her clit, and she hums lowly at the intoxicating taste of Tara's arousal, the vibrations sending a sharp jolt through Tara's body.
It tips Tara over the edge, and she's almost blindsided by her orgasm, coming so violently her body shakes with contentment.
Amber's mouth stays glued to her, letting Tara's hips arch off the seat to grind against her tongue, an attempt to sustain her climax
True to her word, Amber watches every expression pass Tara's face as she unravels, her head tilted back with her eyes screwed shut in bliss.
It's enrapturing, and Amber wants to make her come again, and again, and again.
Tara's a little embarrassed. Amber had only gotten five, maybe six thrusts in before she was clamping down on Amber's tongue so harshly that she feared pulling out would hurt her.
Sue her, she was sensitive!
Amber doesn't mind though as she tenderly rubs Tara's hip bones with her thumbs, continuing to slowly lap through her folds to help Tara come down.
She licks almost greedily, not wanting to sacrifice a single drop.
Tara is... sweet. At least sweeter than the other girl's Amber has eaten out.
She's kind of tangy and heady, and it feels sinful to waste any. It was like the equivalent to pouring out a luxury bottle of aged wine.
Amber finally finds the resolve to pull away, standing to reach for Tara's inhaler again, only this time raising it directly to her mouth.
Tara's hand loosely covers Amber's over the contraption, wrapping her lips around the mouthpiece before gently squeezing Amber's hand to signal her to press the canister, and then one more time to signal her to stop.
Tara falls back against the cushion again, her arms splayed out at her sides as her body completely goes limp, her chest still heaving from exertion.
Amber chuckles lightly at the sight, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand while she lifts the front of her shirt to wipe at her nose.
Tara can't even find the energy to grow giddy at the brief show of skin, too drained to acknowledge it.
She leans down to affectionately kiss Tara's cheek, and hopes that the girl doesn't mind the remnants of cum that still linger on the corners of her lips.
Amber goes to grab Tara a bottle of water, which she also holds against Tara's lips to help her drink.
"Good?" She asks, setting the bottle on the side table next to Tara's inhaler.
Tara nods imperceptibly, eyes closed looking like she was ready for another nap. "So good," She tries raising a thumbs up but her arm barely makes it off the cushion and she's left weakly lifting her thumb.
It makes Amber let out another giggle.
"Okay then, short stack, you gotta go pee."
Tara scrunches her face at the statement, eyes still sealed shut. "Huh?" She breathes out.
"Pee," Amber restates, "You gotta pee after sex, it's like the first rule in the handbook, get up."
And Tara just raises her hands out in front of her, making a grabby motion with her hands as she signals for Amber to hoist her up.
Amber rolls her eyes but does it anyways, pulling Tara up by her forearms, but as soon as she's upright, her knees buckle and give out, almost sending both of them to the ground if it weren't for Amber shifting her grip to Tara's waist.
"You're so dramatic," She groans at Tara's antics, but there's an underlying tone of adoration that ripples through her words.
Mindy was right. She was getting ooey gooey.
Tara shakes her head, wrapping her arms around Amber's neck to keep her upright as she leans her head forward against Amber's chest.
"Not dramatic," She counteracts, "Seriously, I think you broke me, Amber."
"So, better than Wes?"
Tara pulls her head back to glare at her disbelievingly. "Are you really gonna bring up Wes after you just fucked me into another plane of existence?"
Amber shrugs, "I mean a simple yes would've sufficed."
Tara shoves her shoulder, pulling away and making her way toward Amber's bedroom. "My legs are fine now." She asserts, not bothering to put her sweats back on.
Amber reaches down to gather Tara's discarded clothes in one hand while the other grabs her inhaler and water bottle.
She follows Tara into the bedroom, tossing the clothes in the hamper and setting the other objects on the bedside table against the side that Tara slept on.
The door to the en-suite is ajar, the sound of the faucet reverberating out, so Amber slips in to pee too, just because the Dr. Pepper she had earlier was making its way through her system.
When she enters, she sees Tara brushing her teeth with a new pair of underwear on, presumably from the designated drawer she keeps all her extra clothes.
Amber wordlessly kisses the top of her shoulder before making her way to the toilet.
When she pulls down her shorts, there's a large dark spot marking her underwear, and she had almost forgotten she hadn't gotten off like Tara did.
Surprisingly, Amber finds that she doesn't care much. She feels satisfied anyways, but she does think changing into a different pair of underwear would be ideal, so she kicks away the shorts pooled around her ankles.
As Amber is tearing away a few squares of toilet paper, Tara finishes brushing her teeth at the sink and steps towards Amber to peck a quick kiss against her temple, side-eyeing the discarded underwear on the tile.
"I'll make it up to you," Tara promises as she pulls away, her lips lingering against Amber's hairline before she exits the bathroom, leaving Amber to get ready for bed.
When Amber rejoins her on the mattress, as expected, Tara is already soundly asleep, her brown hair splayed across her pillow like a dark halo.
Even in her slumber, Tara senses Amber like a hound and unconsciously wraps herself around Amber's body like a koala.
Amber pulls her close, kissing the top of her head as she closes her eyes, trying to let slumber similarly overtake her.
It all feels jarringly familiar, the even breaths puffing against her chest and a firm arm slung over her stomach.
It's like nothing has changed, and the thought comforts as much as it unsettles her, and she tucks that feeling far away until she's able to convince herself it's the unresolved sexual frustration.
Forgotten somewhere in the living room, Amber's and Tara's phones light up with new notifications from Mindy, the photos of them cuddling on the recliner sent into the groupchat.
Wes reacts to the photos with a thumbs down icon, blissfully unaware of the fact that his wariness surrounding Amber stealing his girl had been confirmed on that chair fifteen minutes after those pictures were taken.