Danny Zuko 6: Bare Backing

[nike_ravus]

Title: Danny Zuko was a Hot Chick (part 6 of 20)

Author: Alsike
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds x-over
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss
Rating: NC-17 (around there)
AN/Disclaimer: Not my girls.
Word Count: 2174
Citrus Taste Summer Battle Prompt #3. Bare Backing
Apologies: I’m going to attempt to post these in chronological order, but I may not always succeed.  Either way, they should stand on their own pretty well.  This is kind of an amusing interpretation of the prompt.  There are two 'backing's, but neither are totally bare.  :D

 

“You’re even worse at tennis when you’re drunk.”

Emily scowled at her and stuck the damp paper towel to her bleeding forehead.  “I’m not drunk anymore, I’m just hungover.”

“And being hungover made you whack yourself in the head with your racket.”

Emily thought that it was probably a better decision than trotting out to third base in a lawnchair.  If only she had had her racket earlier that morning.  But Emma kept flashing her those looks, sort of guarded, but amused, and they weren’t always at her face.

“Why are you embarrassed?” Emma finally asked.  “I mean, besides for making a fool out of yourself and braining yourself with your own racket.  I was the one hanging out outside involved in… self-pleasure.”

Emily gave her a look and scowled at her unrepentant tone.  “I suppose I’m just being humiliated for both of us, since you’re never ashamed of anything.”

“Waste of time,” Emma said, and gave her another one of those amused proprietary glances.  “You still suck.  And you owe me.”

“I owe you?”

“For being a fucking tease.”

Emily almost smirked, but turned red and looked away instead.  Emma, flushed and clinging to the chair, waiting for her, as if she were the only one who could finish the job, was just too tempting a target.  It served her right, at least her drunk mind had thought, for always turning away, leaving Emily aroused and humiliated, to go chase after boys, or send her off to have dinner with her mother.  That had been awkward.  She was so interested in ‘what Emily had been doing while she was stuck in the conference all day,’ and Emily was so not interested in describing her little crisis of trying to figure out whether her mother’s friend’s daughter was actually into her, or just wanted to use her to get some safe sexual experiences with.  It was pretty clearly the second, but it was possible that there might be some of the first mixed in too.  Or she just wanted to mess with her head.  This was always a possibility.

It felt a little more real now, or at least pretty apparent that Emma wouldn’t push her away if she made a move, not that she would, because that was something that drunk Emily was a lot better at than sober Emily.  She liked being drunk.  It was… easier.  But afterwards was not easier, and it had been getting progressively worse each time.  She was thought, perhaps, that spending time around Emma was a little less prone to embarrassing incident if she stayed sober.  And not whacking herself in the head with her racket was also a plus.

“It’s so fucking boring here,” Emma whined.  “Swimming is boring, and staying inside is even worse.”

“I sort of wanted to walk into town.”

“Town?  What is there to do in town?”  Emma scowled.  “Boring.”

Emily shrugged.  Sometimes it was really easy to not like Emma at all.  “I think my mom said something about the resort having a deal with some stables?”

“Oh?” Emma actually looked interested, so she wasn’t just being bored for the sake of whining about it.  “You any good?”

“What?”

“I mean, they probably just have tired nags and western saddles, but still.  I like riding.  Do you do it?”

“I- I’ve gone a couple of times.  I had lessons one summer, but we moved too much to keep it up.”

“Sucks.”  Emma grabbed her arm.  “Come on.  They’ll probably have directions at the front desk.”

They did, and apparently there was a shuttle that would drop them off.  By the time they had changed into jeans and boots, caught the shuttle, and pulled into the driveway of the stables Emily had had it clearly hammered into her head that Emma was one of those girls who liked horses.  Emily had gone through the phase, had read Misty of Chincoteague and the Black Stallion, and then totally gotten over it when all the horses started dying at the end.  (She had never quite recovered from Black Beauty.)  But Emma was on the Equestrian Team, and had the shiny knee high boots and the jacket at home, and she scrounged around her pockets until she found a hairband and tied her hair back on the way.  (She looked different with her hair back.  Less… sneaky.)

Emily hung back and let Emma take charge when she went up to the director and informed her of exactly what sort of liberties they would be allowed to take.  “There’s a trail ride in a half an hour,” he whimpered, and she just gave him a look, and with rather impressive speed they had horses and helmets and were instructed to not go beyond the fence without a guide.

“Are you sure we’re supposed to be allowed to do this?”

Emily was trying her best to remember back six years to the last time she had been on a horse, but hers was plodding faithfully after Emma’s and she didn’t actually have to do very much.

“It’s just the pastures.  I’m not going on a fucking trail ride with four year olds and fat tourists with cameras anyways.”  Emma chivvied her horse along and they headed up the hill over the dry golden fields.  There were some trees in the valley near the other end of the field.  “Let’s go there.  There might be a river.”

“It’ll be dry.”  They were trotting now, and Emily had forgotten how jarring it was.

Emma kicked her horse, encouraging it into a smooth canter.  Emily’s just trotted faster and more jarringly no matter what she did.  It wouldn’t slow down either, apparently it was unhappy with letting Emma’s horse get too far ahead.  They went into the screen of trees as they neared the dip where there might have once been a river.

“Huh, I think there’s a little water,” Emma said, peering into the riverbed.  “Maybe mud.”

“They’re having a drought,” Emily said, her horse jerking the reins out of her grasp so it could munch on the dry grass.  She bent half over the saddle to snag them and pull them up again.  She scanned the riverbank.  Dry grass, a small cluster of scrub oak, an oddly shaped rock.

“I’ll check.”

A rock, or… “Shit!  Is that a rattlesnake?”

“What!”  Emma was half off the horse, and missed her step as she swiveled to look, her foot catching in the stirrup and twisting as she fell.  “Ow!”  She managed to grab onto the saddle, and turn again to jerk her foot down and then release her other foot from the stirrup.

“Oh, it’s just a rock,” Emily realized. 

“I hate you.”  Emma put weight on her caught foot and winced.

“I thought it was a snake.”  Emily looked at her.  “Are you okay?”

Emma dropped into the grass, leaning against a rock and put her hands on her ankle.  “This is your fault.”

Emily quickly scrambled down from her horse, unsure of whether she was going to be able to get on again, but not really worrying about that yet.  She gathered both horses’ reins and looped them over a branch of one of the scrub oaks.  They both seemed more interested in the grass than anything else, so she didn’t worry about them.  Emma was looking rather pale.  She crouched next to her.  “You turned it?”

“If I had my real boots I wouldn’t have,” she grumbled.  “Fucking western stirrups.”

Emily put a hand on her arm.  “You want to take the boot off?”

“If it swells up I won’t get it back on again.”  Emma glared at her from under the shade of her helmet.  “I don’t think it will though.  I just turned it.”

“I’m sorry.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed and she gave a slight huff.  “You are just trying to make me miserable, aren't you?”

Emily flushed and looked away.  She jerked up at a hard swat to her ass.  “Hey!”

“You said there was a fucking rattlesnake!” Emma smacked her harder.

“I thought there was!”  Emily protected her butt with both hands.  Emma caught her arm and jerked her down so she flopped over her lap.  Then she spanked her again.

“And you’re a fucking tease.”

“Stop it!” Emily whined, but she twisted her hands into the grass rather then protecting herself or pushing off.  Emma’s body was warm under hers, and when she peeked up to look at her, Emma’s face was slightly flushed and not from riding.  And anyways, she kind of deserved it.  Emma whacked her ass and after the sting faded it still burned slightly.  She clenched the grass more tightly, trying not to grind into her lap.

“You suck harder than my faggot of a brother.”

Emily snorted at that one, but she forgot to restrain her gasp when Emma hit her again and her hips jerked.  Emma paused.  “You’re into this.”

“What?” Emily yelped in protest.  “No way!  You’re-“  Emma spanked her again and cut her off.

“You kinda are.”  Emma grinned, and then wrapped her arm around Emily’s waist, snaking under her body, aiming for the fastening of her jeans.

“Hey!  No!  What are you-“  But Emma had unbuttoned her jeans and jerked them down as she was struggling and gave her another brisk smack through thin underwear.

It felt entirely different, and Emily froze.  Tentatively she lowered herself back into Emma’s lap.  “Go on,” she said quietly.

Emma gave a nervous laugh.  “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Just…”  Emily swallowed.  “Keep going.  I’ll tell you when I want you to stop.”

And Emma spanked her again.  This time Emily didn’t bother to swallow the small groan and the roll of her hips.  Emma’s hand roamed over her ass, sliding up under her shirt and stroking bare skin at intervals, but she kept spanking her, one at a time, until finally Emily whimpered, pressing her forehead against the ground.  “That’s enough,” she managed.  “It's enough.”

“Yeah?”

Emily pushed herself up a little, swallowing, and bringing her hand up to wipe her mouth.  Emma caught her wrist.

“Don’t.”  She pulled Emily up, over her, and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the slick corner of her mouth.  Emily moaned and opened her mouth, kissing her deeply and pushing her down into the grass.  They traded wet sloppy kisses, Emma groping roughly at Emily’s sore ass.  Emily’s knee slid between her legs and Emma pushed her hips up, grinding against it.  And, well, she did owe her.  Emily sorted out her jeans, hiking them back up so she could push back properly, and she tangled her fingers in Emma’s hair, and cupped her face to keep her jaw open.  There was no finesse with these kisses, she just wanted to get as deep into her mouth as she could, take control.  But Emma was clinging to her shirt, bucking up into her, and letting herself be kissed, making uncontrolled sounds into it and sucking on her tongue when she could manage to.

And then she jerked under her, her head tipping back, breaking the kiss, her grip tightening, and Emily heard a slight rip as her shirt gave under the pressure.  She went limp.  Emily slackened her motion, resting quietly, and traced her thumb from the corner of Emma’s mouth down her chin.  Emma blinked a few times and squinted at her through drooping eyelids.

“Hey,” Emily said softly.

“You still owe me,” Emma muttered.  “Fucking rattlesnake.”

Emily laughed.

“And get off, you’re heavy.”

Emily rolled off of her and refastened her jeans.  It kind of hurt to sit and she glanced uncomfortably at the horses.  Emma got to her feet, fixed her ponytail, and tested out her ankle.  Emily hopped up and offered her an arm.  She took it with a rather amused expression on her face.

“How is it?”

“Not bad.”  Emma gave her a lazy grin.  “Most things feel better after that.”

Emily tried to bite down on her smile.  But Emma stepped into her and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.  Her hand snaked down to her ass and squeezed.  “Hey,” she protested, without rigor.  Emma just shook her head, still looking far too pleased with herself, and unwound the horses’ reins from the scrub oak.

“Come on.”  She swung easily up onto the horse’s back.  Emily glowered.  Her ankle was totally fine.  She managed to get on herself and winced at the hard saddle under her butt.

“Can we just… walk?” she asked.  Trotting would not be okay right now.

Emma laughed.  “Sure.” 

The horses sauntered along the edge of the pasture at an leisurely pace, close enough that the rider’s legs nearly brushed, making it easy to talk, about anything, about horses and books and school and movies. And, rather refreshingly, not about boys, or sexuality, or the myriad ways what they had just done could be used to humiliate Emily.  And when Emma flashed a grin in her direction, it was the kind that was supposed to be shared.


Part 7