the frat bathroom sink
Parties were a lot more fun when Amber didn't have to worry about someone breaking her dead grandma's antique vase, or people having sex on her parent's bed.
This has been Amber's largest college takeaway.
It's also the line of reasoning she presents to Tara while they study in the library, trying to convince her to come to the Halloween party Chad's frat was throwing.
And by line of reasoning, Amber really just means begging.
"See, and you won't even have to help clean up the puke stains!" Amber shudders at the memories of her and Tara cleaning up vomit in crevices of her house she didn't even know were physically reachable.
She usually wasn't so insistent about these kinds of things, but the OKB Halloween party was notoriously insane. They even hired a scare actor last year to jump out at people.
It was the only major holiday during the school year where everyone was still on campus (not that fraternities needed a reason to party,) but the tacky scary decorations just made it better.
Someone distantly shushes them, but when Amber whips her head around to find the culprit, no one is staring at them, so she just lowers her voice before she whispers—
"Pleease," Drawing out the vowel and jutting out her bottom lip for the full effect. She looks ridiculous and unbelievably gushy, but if this is what it takes to see Tara in a slutty costume, then so be it.
Tara barely glances up from her textbook, jotting something down on a pale blue sticky note before slapping it on a page.
"No," She murmurs, the same way she had for the past hour.
Amber's undeterred though.
"But there'll be free alcohol," She brings this up for maybe the second time, "You love free stuff."
Tara finally pauses, boredly resting her chin on her hand as she squints at Amber's various pages of homework. She hadn't touched them since they got here.
"Weren't you literally just telling me a few weeks ago that I sucked at manipulating people?" Tara asks, recalling that conversation, "I think I'm rubbing off on you."
Amber rolls her eyes, "I don't like manipulating you." She deadpans, "It's like coercing a puppy to eat chocolate, makes me feel all guilty."
And Tara just rolls her eyes back, "Then you're gonna have to change your game plan, because I'm not going."
"But you went last year!"
"I didn't have a midterm worth a third of my grade the Monday after last year."
Tara waves up her notebook for emphasis, the page brightly covered in multiple colors of highlighter and messy black ink.
"I'll get you to bed by midnight!" Amber exclaims, "You'll have all of Sunday to recoup and study, then you'll be ready for your exam."
"Unless you are physically injecting these economics principles into my brain, then I'm not going."
"What happened to wanting to 'experience college.'"
Tara smirks, picking up a highlighter and returning to her notes. "Yeah," She shrugs, "Did that, wasn't as exciting as I expected it to be though."
Amber kicks her under the table, making her wince. Tara shoots her a glare before throwing a pen at her head, which Amber skillfully catches.
"Now I'm definitely not going."
Amber frowns. There has to be some way to get Tara to go. Some ingenious plan to get her to let loose for a night.
She needs to come up with something drastic. Something... different, something like—
"I'll let you pick my costume this year."
And Tara literally stops writing in the middle of a sentence, her pen kind of trailing off to create a stray mark on the page.
Amber takes note of it and knows that it'll bother her later, but right now, she was sort of just staring up at her like she had grown two and a half heads, a pair of horns, and had turned green.
Amber had been Ghostface every year for Halloween since she was, like, eight. This was like letting Tara choose the Met Gala theme.
It was monumental.
"Anything?" Tara raises an eyebrow, a steady, and mischievous smile beginning to grow on her lips.
This was a mistake.
"Wait, no," Amber backtracks, "I have limits."
Tara pouts, returning to her studying, "Oh, never mind."
Amber fucking hated this girl.
"Okay, fine, whatever, as long as I'm not ass naked."
Tara grins, "I can work with that."
༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
"Y'know," Amber eyes herself in the bathroom mirror, pulling the hood over her head, "This is pretty tame, I thought you were gonna make me dress up as Megamind or something."
Amber turns around, checking out her butt in the mirror as she eyes the little tail attached to it in the reflection, giving it a little shake.
Tara had given her a dog onesie. A light tan with sporadic brown spots covering parts of the fabric. When she flips the hood on, there are a set of ears to match, big and floppy, and she has to keep tossing them back to keep them from obstructing her vision.
Tara shrugs, finishing putting in her last earring. "I didn't wanna hear you bitch about it all night," The backing is a bit finicky, but she's eventually able to get it fastened, "Plus, Megamind is, like, super complicated. Being blue is one thing, but the bald cap would've been annoying."
Tara walks into the bathroom, reaching up on her tippy toes to kiss Amber's forehead, "Especially with all that hair."
Amber hums in agreement, catching Tara's waist so that she can pull her in closer, reciprocating the action as she pecks Tara's nose a few times, watching it crinkle in feigned annoyance.
She does that a few times before moving on to Tara's eyelids, then her cheeks, and then down to her jaw.
It's not meant to initiate anything, not really. Amber just sort of liked hearing Tara's laugh.
Tara giggles, reaching up to gently push at Amber's shoulders, "Okay," She chokes out between a chuckle, "That's enough, puppy."
Tara, on the other hand, is dressed as a pirate. The costume is a bit lazy, she'll admit it, but it was last minute and no one really goes to these things for the elaborate costumes anyways.
"I still have one more addition for your costume though." Tara stares up at her cheekily, her fingers absentmindedly rubbing at the fur of the onesie.
And Amber hates that look, because nothing good ever comes out of a mischievous Tara. "What," She asks warily, already feeling apprehensive when Tara peels herself away from her body, going to grab something out of her bag.
Amber feels her heart sink to the depths of her ass when Tara reveals what she had gotten.
Amber takes it back. She'd rather go naked.
"Tara," She stares blankly, "If that's what I think it is, you will literally see me on the news tomorrow."
Tara steps closer with that thing in her hand, and it makes Amber fall farther back into the bathroom, leaning against the counter as she holds a defensive finger out.
"But look," Tara frowns, ignoring Amber's wariness and coming even closer so that she can hold the small, shiny sheet of metal up to Amber's eye line, allowing her to read the words.
On a bone-shaped piece of steel attached to a baby pink dog collar, reads, Tara's Bitch.
And it gets worse.
Somehow, it gets worse because when Tara turns it over, it says, If found, please call 1-800-FUCK-OFF.
"Funny, right?" Tara asks giddily, but her lips keep pursing like she wants to laugh, and Amber knows she's seconds away from rolling around on the floor in delight.
"Where did you even get this?!" Amber asks incredulously.
"It was only fifteen dollars to get engraved at the pet store!" And, seriously, Tara sounded way too excited about this.
"I'm not wearing that." Amber grits, pushing the collar away from her face. It was just bad taste.
"That's not fair!" Tara exclaims. She had given up some really optimal study time to go to this party, especially considering she functioned best from eleven PM to three AM. "You said you'd wear anything."
"Yeah," Amber sputters out, because she did say that, "But you can't just brand me!"
Tara reaches up to gently tug on the chain around Amber's neck, a heart charm hanging devotedly from it. "I kind of already did," She asserts, cockily eyeing the jewelry.
Her dad had given it to her, one of the few possessions she had from him that didn't actively make her recoil.
She had given it to Amber for safekeeping, too hot-headed to not have contemplated pawning it a few times.
Plus she was just generally irresponsible, constantly misplacing and losing things. Last week she had forgotten her headphones in a study room and she and Amber had to go on a wild goose hunt to find them.
"C'mon, it's just for a night," Tara nudges her, "And if it stops you from picking up people, you can take it off."
And it leaves an unpleasantly bitter taste on her lips as she says it. She and Amber hadn't specifically gone over the rules of their arrangement, but she kind of just figured that they didn't have to. After their first official meeting, things had just flowed. Amber understood her and she understood Amber. It was easy.
But she also assumes that this means their situation shouldn't create a wedge in any of their normal routines.
Tara still comes over every Tuesday night to study.
Amber waits outside of Tara's Wednesday morning lecture hall so that they can walk to get brunch together.
Tara stays over Sunday nights so that she can make sure Amber gets up on time for her Monday morning classes.
And Amber still fucks around with other people.
Nothing has to change.
"Fine," Amber eyes it again in disgust. She might throw up, "Whatever, it is funny, Carpenter, I'll give you that."
"I knew it," Tara says smugly, pulling Amber's hood off so she could slide the collar over her head, "You're so obsessed with me," She teases as she fastens the nylon.
Amber reaches her hand up, tugging at the pink neckband, "I will rip this off and choke you with it," Narrowing her eyes at the other girl.
Tara, undeterred, just smirks, "I'm not really into that," She turns around, rifling through her bag again, "Y'know, asthma and all."
She finds what she's looking for, fishing it out and excitedly waving a matching pink leash for Amber to see.
"You didn't tell me there was a leash!"
Tara goes to hook it on while Amber stares down in horror.
She pulls the hood back onto Amber's head, and gives the leash a small tug, lowering Amber's head enough so that she can kiss the top of it.
"Let's go, doggy!" Tara coos, raising the pitch of her voice like she was talking to a baby.
Amber groans, following Tara out of the bathroom, not because of the leash, but simply because they were going to the same place.
"Oh my god," Tara quickly stops as they leave Amber's apartment, "I almost forgot."
She pulls out a black, liquid eyeliner from her purse, and carefully draws a black oval onto the tip of Amber's nose.
"Better," Tara nods in satisfaction before they continue their walk to the party, just a few streets over.
Amber sighs, her face gloomy. "I should've just let you stay home."
Tara turns around, grinning brightly at how exasperated she looked. "You would've been miserable without me."
And she leans forward to kiss Amber's cheek, which she wipes away aggressively with the back of her hand.
As much as she deeply hates to admit it, Tara is right.
༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
Mindy has an absolute field day when they meet on the frat's lawn, taking an entire photo shoot of Amber's costume from every angle fathomable.
Amber wanted to jump into the school's pond and drown.
"You look like a furry!" Mindy guffaws, hunched over, holding her stomach while she laughs so hard she starts wheezing.
Amber groans into her hands, hiding her face. "I fucking told you, Tara!"
"Woah, woah," Tara comes to her defense, but does an absolutely terrible job at hiding how amused she was, a big smile splayed on her face, "Not a furry, just a furry companion, they're different."
Anika reaches out to play with one of the ears, making Amber glare at her. "I think it's cute!" But she's giggling too and it does little to comfort her.
People were already splayed out on the lawn, either too drunk, or too stoned, (or a combination of both,) as they went outside to take a breather.
The doors to the house are open, and music spills out of it like a fountain, the bass already reverberating deep in Amber's chest.
"What dog breed do you guys think Amber would be?" Liv asks laughing, snapping a few pictures of her own.
"Definitely one of those little crusty white ones," Mindy answers, giving Tara a high five when the joke makes the girl let out a loud snort.
Amber scowls, a deep crease settling between her eyebrows. "I hate all of you," And she means it (lovingly) as she turns her back on them and storms towards the entrance of the frat.
"Oh, don't be like that," Anika calls after her, smile evident in her voice.
"Yeah," Mindy tag teams her, "Come back, girl!" She slaps her hands on her thighs while she coos at Amber's retreating figure, which makes Amber flip them the bird while she walks away.
Amber makes a beeline for the liquor table as soon as she enters the frat, the dense smell of alcohol and weed hitting her.
She spots a pretty girl in the corner of the kitchen while she's pouring a shot into the bottom of a solo cup.
Staring down at the amber liquid swirling down at the bottom, she knocks her head back and downs it.
She pours another shot as she glances over at the girl again, this time making eye contact.
Amber chances a wink in her direction, and it feels a bit forced, maybe too calculated, but she thinks it works anyways because the redhead playfully rolls her eyes before looking away with a grin, continuing a conversation with her friend.
The rest of the group sidles up to her pretty quickly after that, joining her in the kitchen.
Tara steals the solo cup she's holding and swigs the shot that she had just poured, but Amber doesn't say anything about it, silently grabbing another solo cup and pouring another one.
The shorter girl leans her head against Amber's shoulder, briefly nuzzling her cheek against the soft fabric. "Will you mix me that Sprite thing you made last time?"
"The one with tequila?"
Tara shrugs, craning her head up so she can be heard above the loud music. "I think so?"
"Sure," Amber nods before grabbing a can of Sprite, turning around to rummage through the fridge for any good tequila.
Mindy and Anika share a knowing look, sipping their beers before they tug Liv along with them toward the living room.
"C'mon," Mindy shouts, "I wanna beat your asses at some beer pong!"
༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
Amber's collar is gone.
Tara doesn't even know when she took it off because they'd been attached at the hip for practically the entire night.
Maybe it had been somewhere between the second shot and the third Sprite concoction— that's where things had begun to get a bit fuzzy.
But Amber had excused herself to grab another drink, and now she was standing against the wall with this random redhead and her neck was bare except for Tara's necklace that she never takes off.
They'd been at the party for about two hours now, maybe a little bit less.
And Tara wasn't drunk, despite Anika cutting her off from any drink besides water.
She was fine, really, a few trips to the bathroom and a bottle of water later, she was barely feeling buzzed.
And that's why she's so confused when she suddenly feels nauseous at the sight of Amber sweet-talking this random girl.
Tara was witnessing firsthand the Freeman Threeman, something Chad had affectionately coined their junior year of high school.
Amber had picking up people down to a science, and the gang had deconstructed it down to three simple steps.
1) Amber would place her hand somewhere on the other person's body. Usually their shoulder, sometimes their waist if she was feeling particularly bold (or drunk.)
2) Amber would lean in close, tilting her ear towards their mouth, often feigning that it was too loud to hear anything over the music.
3) And lastly, the killer move, Amber would in turn respond by leaning in even closer, letting her lips hover just slightly over their ear, whispering something charming, or sweet, or oftentimes a perfect combination of both, back at them.
And then poof, people were swooning, clothes were flying. It would be impressive if it didn't irk Tara so much right now, and when she sees Amber lay a paw on the girl's shoulder, she's immediately bolting upright from the black couch.
"You okay, short stack?" Anika asks, eyeing her while leaning against Mindy's body.
Tara turns around, nodding a bit distractedly, "Yeah, I just," She doesn't know what to say, but she knows she needs something, "I just need to pee."
"Okay," Anika nods, getting up too, "Let's go."
"No," Tara shakes her head, placing her hands on Anika's shoulders, and gently pushes her back down onto the couch. "I'll ask Amber."
Mindy scoffs, though there's no scorn in it. "Amber looks a bit busy right now," She nods her head in the couple's direction, and Tara turns in time to see Amber whispering something in the other girl's ear.
Damn, that girl worked fast. How was she already on phase three?
"No," She says again, already trailing backward, "Nope, has to be Amber."
And then she's stumbling up to the pair, and if she sways a bit more than she has to, then that's for her, and her alone to know.
She wedges herself between their bodies, dramatically leaning against Amber's frame.
"I gotta pee," She exclaims, staring up doe-eyed.
She sees Amber flick her gaze to the redhead behind her, before it falls back down. "This is like your sixth bathroom break."
"It's the stupid soda, come with me." And she slurs and giggles, but it's all intentional, she promises.
Tara is already tugging her along, vaguely hearing her mutter something to the redhead as they walk away hand in hand.
They make their way upstairs, heading to the bathroom farthest down the hall to the left.
Amber bangs roughly on the door, loudly asking if there was anyone in there.
She had walked in on too many sex-crazed couples who didn't know how to lock the door to make that mistake again.
"Hold on," Someone yells back from inside, followed by the sound of a flushing toilet.
To their surprise, Chad stumbles out pretty soon after, looking more or less wasted as his eyes lazily dart between the two girls.
"No way," He exclaims excitedly, pulling them both under his arms for a side hug.
Amber winces away from it, not only because of the physical contact, but because she's almost certain that Chad didn't wash his hands.
It's the first time they've seen him all night, despite the fact that it's his frat.
Chad turns to her, finally processing her costume as he gives her head a small pet. "Oh my god, are you Tara's lap dog or something?" And the annoying part is that he asks earnestly, not teasing like the others.
Amber pushes him off her. "I'm gonna let you off the hook because you smell like you've been chugging motor oil, Meeks."
Chad doesn't so much as stumble at the shove though, his frame towering well above both of them as he takes Amber's face in both of his hands, staring hazily into her eyes.
"That is very kind of you, Amber. I appreciate you so much." And he's speaking so slowly, almost deliberately so as not to slur as he confesses this. He had always been a sappy drunk.
Amber swats his hands away, which he allows. "You are so fucking weird."
He turns around to face Tara, pulling her in for a full hug and she gets squished against his sweaty, bare torso.
"Gross, Chad," And she gently pushes him off her too.
"I just love you guys, so much!" He declares, sounding like he was almost on the verge of tears.
He suddenly takes off his cowboy hat and places it on Tara's head. It's too big and it slides down her forehead, but Chad quickly readjusts it for her until it's sitting correctly.
"Now, you're a Cow-rate," He states far too seriously for someone who had just said what he said.
"A what?" Tara asks confused, staring up at him through the brim.
"Or a Pi-boy, whichever you prefer."
And then he's walking away.
"Keep it safe for me!" He yells over his shoulder, "I'm gonna go do a keg stand!"
They stare at his back until he hurtles down the stairs, without a doubt tripping once or twice.
"I can't believe you made me become friends with that." Amber murmurs as they enter the bathroom, locking the door behind them.
Tara shrugs, hopping up onto the counter. "Package deal," She answers, and though Amber absolutely had the crown of best friend, Mindy and Chad were definitely titled as first friends.
They had been inseparable too.
"I thought you had to pee," Amber raises an eyebrow at Tara's actions, but steps closer to her anyways.
Tara just shrugs again, grinning cheekily, "Guess the urge passed, or something."
Amber leans against the opposite wall, her arms crossed over her chest, but Tara finds it impossible to feel even slightly intimidated when Amber just looked so fucking cute.
"Mhm," Amber hums, "Or something."
Tara reaches out towards Amber, making grabby hands in an attempt to draw her closer, but Amber just swats them away.
"You sure?" Amber asks, "You were pretty wobbly earlier," She notes, recalling how Tara practically fell into her arms.
"Guess I just had too much."
And despite how adorable Amber looked, smudgy nose and all, Tara thinks that there wasn't a single instance where she couldn't think that Amber was insanely hot too.
She thought that before they had sex, she just thought about it a lot more now.
Amber hums again, going along with her. "And how many drinks have you had?"
Tara twists her mouth in thought, looking away as she contemplates.
"Like, two shots," She says unsurely, "And then like, a million of those Sprite tequila things you made me."
Amber smirks and it makes her feel like she got caught sneaking in late after curfew.
"I stopped mixing alcohol in your drinks after the first one," She admits, grinning even wider when she sees the look of realization pass Tara's face, "And the first one barely had half a shot in it, which means-"
Amber pushes herself off the wall, resting her hands on the denim of Tara's shorts and giving the muscles a small squeeze. She relishes in the way it makes her tense.
"You should be just about sober right about, so what's with the drunk girl act."
Tara loops her arms around Amber's neck, drawing her closer, "Does missing you count as a good enough excuse?"
Amber doesn't buy it though. Tara had always been a painfully bad liar. "You've been stuck to me like a leech all night." She points out, and Tara wasn't doing a very good job at disproving her right now either.
Tara pouts. This was sounding a lot like an interrogation she didn't want to be a part of. "I just got bored," She whines, tugging the hood off of Amber's head so she can dig her fingers into the back of her hair, gently massaging her scalp with the tips of her fingers.
Amber moves her hands to Tara's forearms, rubbing up and down the puffy fabric of her shirt.
She smirks, "So this has nothing to do with the pretty girl I was talking to?"
And Tara frowns, almost offended. She doesn't even know how that was relevant, let alone why Amber would be bringing it up.
"No," She almost scoffs, "Why would it?"
Amber kind of purses her lips together and nods, sort of like she's biting back a smile.
She steps out from in between Tara's legs, turning towards the door. "Okay," She points her thumb out towards the direction of the party, "Then you won't mind if I go back? I told her I'd only be a second."
And Tara feels her heart ache for a moment, just a little.
It's foreign, and weird, and just unwelcome. As someone who analyzed her emotions as a way to cope with them, she finds it annoyingly frustrating that she can't pinpoint where this anger is coming from, and it irks her, like, a lot.
She hops down from the counter, readjusting her hat as it slides down from the landing.
"Yeah," She nods, turning her face away to hide a scowl she's almost certain is present, "Yeah, whatever, sorry for keeping you away."
Tara reaches for the doorknob, but two hands are immediately on her waist, twisting her around, and gently pinning her up against the door.
She's met with Amber's grinning face peering down at her, and nothing would make Tara happier than to rip it off.
"Oh my god," Amber chuckles, sounding a bit too thrilled for how agitated Tara feels, "You're jealous."
"I'm not," Tara immediately answers, incredulousness clear in her voice.
Jealous?
That's absurd.
"No," Amber shakes her head, "You totally are."
And Amber seems like she's already made up her mind about it, and Tara can't have her walking around with some gross misconception, so she seeks to say anything to dispel the building satisfaction she can feel radiating off of Amber's demeanor.
"We're not even dating," She crosses her arms over her chest, "It's never going to mean anything."
Tara can't see Amber's face very well from this angle. Amber's towering above her, and their close proximity in addition to the large brim of the cowboy hat keep obstructing her vision so that she can really only see Amber's chin and her bottom lip.
But maybe it's better this way, because she isn't able to catch the shift in Amber's expression, just barely noticeable. Tara isn't able to see the way her smile falters, or the way her eyes dim, and it's better this way.
It's better.
Amber stares down at the top of the brim, Tara's face hidden as well. "Yeah," She agrees, even though it's a bit forced. Besides, they'd only had sex once, which was right on track with all of her other flings.
There didn't have to be anything else.
The point of no return was still long and far, they could just chalk it up to a sexually charged night that went a bit farther than expected.
Amber hadn't even touched Tara's boobs for crying out loud!
But neither of them moves.
Amber's hands stay glued to Tara's hips, and they stand frozen.
Tara thinks about if Amber was doing this with that redhead girl instead.
If Amber had that random sorority girl pinned against a bathroom door instead of her, if Amber's hands were securely wrapped around that girl's waist instead.
And she realizes she can't push down that acidic feeling welling in her chest and the bitterness that clawed at her throat.
God, she hated it when Amber was right.
"Okay," She breaks the charged silence, her voice small, "Whatever, maybe I was a little jealous."
And she's able to see Amber's teeth through the brim of the hat as a grin overtakes her face once again.
"I knew it," She declares cockily, "I'm just too good, aren't I?"
And her full smile is quickly revealed when she takes the hat off Tara's head, and places it on her own instead.
"Well you know what they say," Amber wriggles her eyebrows, "Save a horse," She tips the brim of the hat like she's in an old western movie, "Ride a cowboy."
And she sounds so dumb.
And so nerdy, and dweeby, and just flat out dorky as the words escape her mouth, drowning in a huge dog onesie with a cowboy hat on her head, and Tara, for some unknown fucking reason, finds it absolutely precious.
She finds it so incredibly charming and cute, so much so that she rockets herself up onto her tippy toes and kisses her smack on the lips, her hands shooting up to Amber's shoulders to balance herself.
Amber, obviously stunned, is standing almost shell shocked, her eyes wide open and her lips unmoving.
Tara doesn't kiss her long though, quickly pulling away, but staying close as she murmurs, "I wanna make it up to you."
And Amber, still disoriented from the kiss, just distractedly hums, barely able to process Tara's words.
"For last time," Tara's lips reattach to Amber's neck, and she hums quietly at the salty taste of sweat coating her skin, mixed with the florally scent of her perfume. "I want to make it up to you."
And Amber gets it now.
She absolutely gets it because she can feel her entire body suddenly overheat under the thin fabric of her costume, her cheeks without a doubt sporting a bright red.
"H-here?" She asks, stuttering when Tara sucks at the soft spot under her jaw.
Tara pulls away so that she can reposition herself back on the counter, pulling Amber in with the heels of her feet when she wraps her legs around Amber's waist.
She nods, "If that's okay with you?"
And it is.
It so absolutely is because Amber is suddenly surging forward with a newfound vigor, desperately capturing Tara's lips between her own and it's somehow better than that time when they were fifteen.
A lot of it probably has to do with her general sobriety, she hadn't had much to drink either, but it feels new. Like there's this underlying twinge of incautiousness that wasn't there when they were fifteen.
It's unfiltered and brave. Tara doesn't feel afraid to cup Amber's face like this, and Amber sure as hell isn't scared to grope Tara's ass through her shorts, reaching under her to give the flesh a firm squeeze.
Amber can taste the lingering sweetness from the Sprite and Tara's strawberry lipgloss, and it makes her even more eager, pushing against Tara's body until her back is arching against the mirror behind her.
And Amber supposes she can't take all of the credit for Tara's skills, but fuck, did she know how to kiss.
Her lips were languid against Amber's, moving at a pace that was simultaneously hungry but not rushed, and it felt nice.
Amber isn't used to nice kisses, almost all of the ones she shared were usually greedy or messy as they pawed at each other's skin and ripped off their clothes.
It's almost self-indulgent, satisfying themselves with the taste of each other and it almost makes Amber want to whisper a quiet finally against Tara's lips, because she hadn't realized how much she wanted to do this until now.
But despite this being fast and filled with desire, it was tender, soft almost.
Or maybe Tara is just soft.
Tara is...
Tara is everything.
Amber pulls away panting, immediately growing concerned when she sees Tara doing the same, but the smile on her face is reassuring and it stops her from searching Tara's body for her inhaler.
"I'm taking that as a yes?"
Amber can't even find it in herself to be dismayed by her cheekiness.
"Definitely yes," Which makes Tara lean forward to mouth at Amber's neck again, biting and sucking at her will, anything to keep hearing the breathy little moans Amber was releasing.
The music outside was making it hard to hear, and Tara almost wishes that she dragged Amber back to her apartment so that she'd be able to catch each of Amber's groans.
But they were on a time crunch. It was nearing midnight and Tara knows that she'd get carried away if they were in the comfort of Amber's apartment and she'd never get an adequate amount of sleep.
She begins tugging at the zipper running down the front of Amber's costume, pulling it down until the slider reached her navel.
Tara almost cheers at the fact that Amber's not wearing an undershirt, only a red lacy bra peeking out from underneath, and she immediately moves her mouth down to lick at the tops of her newly exposed breasts.
It makes Amber let out a low moan, only to release a loud gasp when she feels Tara's teeth gently graze the skin.
Tara palms her over the padding, moving back up to suck a harsh hickey under the skin of her right ear.
Amber's were a bit fuller than hers, spilling out from under her small hands and she glances down just for a second with a mesmerized gleam in her eyes, seeing how pretty and flushed they looked.
Amber arches into the touch, pulling Tara's body towards the edge of the counter if only to gain any semblance of friction.
She feels Tara fixate on one area more than the others, only briefly registering after a moment that Tara was intently kissing around her birthmark.
Tara slips a hand under the costume, trailing down until she can feel the seams of Amber's underwear, experimentally trailing against the cloth.
She slips a finger under the waistband where it sits against Amber's hipbone, and pulls it back, only to release it with a quick snap, making Amber suck in a sharp inhale.
"Asshole," She mutters shakily, but thrusts her hips forward anyways, just slightly, like she was trying to fuck something.
And she feels Tara grin against the skin of her collarbone before licking another long stripe against the swell of her breasts.
When she gave Tara the go-ahead to fuck someone on the sink in a frat bathroom, in no world did she ever expect for it to be her.
And because Tara is a giant asshole, she pulls away from Amber entirely, leaning back as she takes her hand out of Amber's costume.
She takes the hat off of Amber's head and places it back on her own, her smile so devious Amber thinks that she should've dressed up as the devil instead.
Amber thinks that she looks unbearably pretty, mischievousness and all. She's close enough to count the freckles sprinkling the bridge of her nose.
And she tries, at least for a moment. Her eyes dart across each speck and she tries to count them, committing them to memory so that she can trace them in her mind later tonight when they're apart.
Tara slides her hand back against Amber's underwear, two fingers immediately rubbing against the front of the drenched cloth, almost gasping at how wet Amber really is.
Amber moans, loudly, and Tara hypocritically hopes that the music is loud enough not to alarm any passerbys.
It's embarrassing.
Well, Amber feels embarrassed at least.
She's never been so quick to unravel like this, so desperate for someone.
But she doesn't have much time to ponder on it because Tara is actually sliding under her underwear now, her hand angled in a way so that her palm sits flush against Amber's clit, and her fingers drag through her slit.
Amber lets out another throaty moan, head falling forward onto Tara's shoulder.
She feels... soft, is the best way to describe it, Tara thinks.
Soft and incredibly hot, her folds almost burning as they envelop Tara's fingers in a way that was just plain needy.
Tara's never touched another girl before, so she doesn't have much to compare to, but Amber feels slick and warm, and sensitive because every minuscule movement was making her hips twitch just so, and her gasps grow huskier and more urgent.
And maybe Tara would be a little more insecure about her lack of experience if it weren't for the way Amber's entire body was straining against her, moving only with the intention to be closer and the uncharacteristic want that envelops Amber's actions makes Tara think that she's doing just fine.
She lines up her fingers against Amber's entrance, teasing it by sliding the tips of two fingers in, before pulling out.
Amber bucks against her hand, trying to find anything to ground her as she begins kissing messily at Tara's neck, hands desperately grabbing her waist until they slip her under Tara's shirt.
She feels insatiable, beginning to carefully grope at Tara's chest, feeling her zealously push against the touch. It was all so much, and somehow not even close to enough.
Tara can feel Amber begin to grow frustrated, her hips moving frantically as she tries to get herself off against Tara's hand.
And if they weren't short on time and in a grimy fraternity, Tara would draw it out as long as she possibly could.
But since they are, she suddenly slips two fingers into Amber's waiting entrance and—
"Fuck, Tara," She sounds absolutely filthy, and Tara is alarmed to find how much she loves her name being moaned like this, and she doesn't know how she had survived so long being deprived of it.
"Ride a cowboy, right?" Tara grins wide, high on the ecstasy of control.
Amber ruts forward against her hand, whining when Tara doesn't move her fingers, staying still inside of her.
"So, ride," Tara whispers hotly into her ear.
Amber pulls her face away from Tara's neck, only to be met with an arrogant smile, and god, she'd be so annoyed if it didn't look so good on her.
And maybe she'd be a bit more resistant if they weren't where they were, but she can't quite help it when the overhead light casts this glow on Tara that makes her look otherworldly. A demon or an angel sent to fulfill or deny her every desire.
Also maybe she deserves it a bit for being a jackass the first time.
It feels a bit awkward at first because Amber's standing, her movements a bit uncoordinated and wobbly, but she's quickly able to find a rhythm rolling her hips forward in a way that ground her clit against Tara's palm as her fingers shallowly entered and exited.
Tara's other hand returns to Amber's chest, pulling the left cup of her bra down so that she can gingerly pinch the swollen nub.
Amber's forehead lands against hers with a gentle thud, her eyes fluttered shut as her brows furrowed in concentration, gasping with every roll of her hips.
It's kind of like seeing a huge lion in a petting zoo, this huge intimidating beast in an environment where it willingly accepts affection.
And Amber, who wouldn't be caught dead saying please, let alone begging, was groaning desperate curses and pleads, her hands returning back to Tara's bottom to leverage her movements, gripping the area so tightly it makes Tara release a small squeal at a particularly rough squeeze.
"So good, Tara," She catches in the midst of Amber's mumbling, and it makes her legs instinctively circle tighter around Amber's waist.
Her orgasm builds, unsurprisingly, fast, and Tara can tell because her hips begin to move with more fervor, pressing achingly into her hand as she tightens around her fingers.
She's so, so close, until a sharp knock against the door makes her startle upright, almost backing away enough for Tara's fingers to slip out of her.
"Occupied!" Tara grits through the door, staring at the wood like she could laser beam whoever was on the other side.
They knock again, "C'mon man, I gotta piss!"
Amber stares at her, wide eyed and a little disoriented, trying to blink away the arousal clouding her senses so that she can think straight, but Tara is suddenly pumping in and out of her with a precision that Amber didn't entirely know she possessed.
Her fingers are crooked, just right, hitting that soft spot inside of her as her palm continues to rub against her clit.
Amber's jaw drops open like she's on the verge of a sob, but Tara's lips capture her's before it's able to escape, and her moan gets swallowed by Tara's eager mouth.
The cowboy hat falls off her head as she feverishly tries to muffle Amber's whimpers, which gets harder and harder to do as her orgasm approaches.
"You have to come, baby," Tara mumbles against her lips before she surges forward again, and it must do it for her because Amber is suddenly panting into her mouth and clamping down on her fingers, her hips stuttering as her climax wracks through her body, the only thing keeping her upright being Tara's legs around her waist.
And it becomes less of a kiss and more of an open press of mouths as Tara lets each whine get muffled against her lips, which would be disappointing if it weren't also so arousing, and slows down the pace of her fingers until she feels Amber relax against her.
Another sharp knock sounds as Amber slumps forward against her, appreciatively pecking a sweet kiss against the side of Tara's neck.
"We're coming, damn!" And the we're is a bit inaccurate but he definitely didn't need to know that.
Tara gently pushes Amber off her body and zips her onesie back up.
Amber blearily notes three glaring hickies forming on her neck in the mirror, and knows that there's for certain a fourth one on the top of her left boob just from how rough she felt Tara being earlier, hoping that the party is too dark for anyone to really notice.
Hopping down from the counter, Tara quickly rinses her hands in the sink before grabbing Amber's wrist and guiding her to the door, unlocking it and sidestepping the pissed-off guy on the other side.
When he glares at them, Tara defiantly glares back, eyeing him up and down, "Period problems, dickhead," And she crosses her fingers that he's too drunk to notice how mussed they looked.
Amber briefly thinks that she's rubbing off on Tara too much because the lie flows off her tongue far too easily.
They make it a few paces down the hallway before they're called back.
Something like a frisbee hits Tara's arm, making her sharply turn around.
The guy is standing in the doorway of the bathroom, flipping them off. "You forgot something, assholes," He yells before fully slipping inside.
Tara picks up the forgotten cowboy hat before placing it on Amber's head, hoping it will distract from how thoroughly fucked she looked, her eyes a bit droopy and her legs shaky.
"Chad's not gonna want that back," She grins up at her.
Amber scoffs, "Fuck that, I'm burning this," But she keeps it on anyways, because again, freshly fucked.
Amber tugs on her, leading her down the stairs.
"C'mon, let's get you home, you got an econ test to fail."
Tara slaps the front of the brim down so that her eyes get covered, making her trip on the last step.
Amber fixes it before flicking Tara on the forehead.
"Bitch," She mutters, but doesn't do much else.
She feels a lot less dizzy once they make it out of the house, the fresh air good for her lungs once the humidity of the frat dissipates.
They hold hands all the way back to Tara's dorm, only reluctantly letting go when Tara leans up to kiss Amber's cheek in farewell, promising to text her in the morning.