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It’s getting late, and Ariana hates it. Her gigantic house feels so empty sometimes.
But not when Cynthia is here. For such a tiny woman, she manages to suffuse this place with so much light and love that it’s impossible not to soak it in. Ariana loves when she comes over, bringing her dogs and her collection of thermoses, her vitamin gummies always close by. She’s usually wearing an eccentric sweater and heels no one should be able to walk in.
Ari doesn’t want her to go. But she’s far too old to cry and stamp her feet when something isn’t going her way. Sometimes, when Cynthia leaves, it feels like the sun is going down. It will come back, sure. But she was having such a good time basking in all that warmth.
As Cynthia stands up to fetch her dogs and put her shoes on, Ariana grabs her wrist to keep her from getting too far away. “Wait,” she says without hardly thinking. “Do you want to stay over?”
Cynthia, to her surprise and delight, looks as if she is considering it. “Do you have plans tomorrow?” She asks. “I don’t want to impose.”
She could never be an imposition, not if she tried. Ariana has had plenty of practice gently kicking friends out of her home when she starts feeling overstimulated. If Cynthia had actually been bothersome, she would have been sent to hit the road hours ago.
Ariana does, in fact, have plans tomorrow. However, she is going to be terrible and cancel them the second she wakes up, just to see if Cynthia wants to grab brunch. She is choosing not to think too hard about what all of this means. It’s probably for the best.
“No plans tomorrow,” Ari lies, smoothly. “You can even stay in my room! Come on.”
She drags a laughing Cynthia by the hand and leads her up to her bedroom. Their sleepy dogs pay them no mind, not moving from their comfy pile on the couch. They must have really been worn out today from all of the activity.
Of course, she could have handed Cynthia a collection of creams and serums and left her to her own devices. Instead, Ariana presses her down to sit in the vanity chair in front of her dresser, turning on the bright lights so they are both illuminated. She opens up a drawer, pulling out makeup remover and a few other essentials.
Turning to face Cynthia, she can’t help but smile, and it only grows wider when Cynthia returns it, her eyes crinkling up at the corners.
With gentle hands, she sets to work. Cynthia sits patiently as Ariana leans down and dabs a fragrant solution onto a cotton cloth. She swipes it along Cynthia’s features, removing light foundation and mascara.
She is so pretty.
Cynthia chuckles. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Ariana didn’t mean to say that out loud, but she’s glad it’s out in the open. Cynthia deserves to know, she deserves to feel it. All the time, every day.
On top of everything else, Cynthia’s bone structure could have been hand chiseled by an ancient sculptor, carved out of marble, perfection set in stone. She has the most beautiful skin, dark and smooth and unblemished. Ariana feels lucky just to have Cynthia so close, not many people get the privilege.
The last of her makeup is being stubborn though. With Ariana leaning down, the angle isn’t quite right if she wants to remove it all. Before thinking, she slides right into Cynthia’s lap, straddling her.
Shocked, Cynthia laughs. “What are you doing?”
“This is better,” Ariana says, chuckling a bit, too. She knows she’s being a little ridiculous, but that’s how Cynthia likes her best. “Now I can see you properly.”
“Fair enough,” Cynthia says, amusement still covering her features. “Go on, then.”
Except… now that she’s here, she loses focus. All she can really think about is the warmth of Cynthia’s soft thighs beneath her own, shifting every now and then. Cynthia holds her waist securely, caressing softly, but sure to keep her in place.
The last of her makeup is gone. Ari takes a moment just to smooth her fingers over the beautiful skin left behind, running soft fingertips over her eyelids, her temples, the crest of her forehead. How did someone so lovely land in her life? Cynthia sighs, seeming to enjoy the attention just as much.
Her fingers slow and Cynthia’s eyes open. Ariana looks into the depth of them, seeing only affection and curiosity. When her lips gently meet Cynthia’s there is no shock, no surprise. She willingly accepts the kiss and deepens it almost immediately.
The hands on Ariana’s waist draw her closer, and she sighs, a warm bath of sensation overtaking her. It doesn’t feel new, or awkward, kissing Cynthia is a language her body already knows how to speak. Kissing her feels like coming home to somewhere that always feels warm and welcoming.
They blend together as easily right now as their voices do in rehearsals, swaying slightly with their movements. What started slow and deep accelerates when Ariana opens up, just a bit, and Cynthia goes in for a taste. At the feeling of her tongue Ariana groans, the sound coming from deep within her chest.
After a moment she feels a little dizzy, floating above herself in a blissful haze. She pulls back, expecting to see some sort of regret on Cynthia’s face, or some excuse to leave on her tongue. She finds neither, only a sweet little smile and a look of desire. Cynthia’s pupils are blown wide and dark. She licks her lips. Ariana can’t look away from them.
“You’re good at that,” Ariana sighs.
Cynthia laughs and brings her focus back to Ari’s lips. “So are you.” She kisses her softly, suckling. “You’re delicious.”
Ariana smiles, breaking away. Cynthia’s eyes look clear and bright, and she can see no regret on her face.
Part of what she loves so much about Cynthia is that she jumps into absolutely everything she does with both feet. Ariana feels a bit of that boldness now, and lets it consume her, lets it take over her words.
“Do you want to keep going?” she asks.
There’s nothing wrong with a bit of fun. She was dreading sleeping in her cold lonely bed tonight. And Cynthia is so warm and lovely. She’s right here, and she’s her very best friend. It doesn’t have to mean anything.
Cynthia smiles in return. Without warning, she stands, prompting Ari to wrap her legs around her waist. Ariana’s heart flutters. The whole of her being is held securely in Cynthia’s hands. She waits for the touch of panic that normally comes along with sharing herself, her home, her life with someone. It doesn’t come.
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this means a bit more than she thought.
“Yeah, let’s keep going,” Cynthia says, walking them over to the bed.
With a soft whoosh Ariana lands squarely on her back, the wind leaving her lungs. Cynthia doesn’t give her a moment’s peace, following to land right on top of her.
Ari unlocks her legs, giving herself a bit of room to run hands under Cynthia’s top, searching for skin. After a moment, she lifts the sweater up and over her head, and appreciates the view in front of her. It’s magnificent.
Cynthia is both toned and soft, the tattoos scattered over her skin only adding to her appeal. Ari can’t keep her hands still, they feel and caress, greedily taking in everything offered before her. She runs them along Cynthia’s body, watching transfixed as her face transforms in response. She reaches tentatively for her breasts and Cynthia grabs her hands and urges her to touch them more firmly, she’s not shy. She’s divine.
Ariana leans up for another kiss. She feels herself being undressed too, and is only satisfied when they are skin to skin.
Hours pass. Then the night. Miraculously, the morning and afternoon, too.
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There was a bit of an unspoken agreement between them, that they would try their best not to slip up again. This is too important. A scandal could ruin this entire project before it’s even off the ground.
But it’s hard to keep their distance when every day is spent together, and it’s even harder to stay away from one another when there’s nowhere else they would rather be than in each other's orbit.
There’s something about Cynthia that makes Ari want to search for her in every room, always seeking out her partner in crime, her beautiful, talented enigma. There’s no one else in the world like Cynthia, she’s certain of it. And loving Ari in return is the easiest thing Cynthia has ever done, so easy that she seemingly falls into it by accident. Cynthia has never described herself as a touchy person, but Ariana’s desire for physical connection seems to have brought it out of her. Ari has taught her so much without even knowing it. Things like: how to trust yourself and your success, how to dream bigger, how to send comfort through your fingertips.
They anticipate each other's needs, and desires, and the end of their sentences, making their chemistry on film vibrant and electric.
But they are careful. Or they try to be, as best they can. It’s hard.
In her nightgown and dowdy froat, Cynthia feels floaty and giggly. She can’t remember the last time she’s laughed this hard, especially on set. All day as Ariana has flirted and flounced all around her. It’s been incredibly difficult to keep her giggles in, which is a first. She’s not sure anyone understands how impossible it is to keep a straight face while Ari jumps on a trampoline and says, “Elphie, you gotta bounce with me, girl.”
It’s ridiculous. She’s so silly, so stunning. Cynthia loves her.
It was a long day, but a fun one. They both love and hate when the days pass by so quickly. It’s lovely to be having such a good time that it all flies by, but that time passing means that one day this will all be over. It’s best not to think about such things, not today. Cynthia tucks the thought away in the box of other things she tries desperately to not think too hard about.
There’s a knock on her trailer door as she’s packing up the last of her belongings. It always takes her a bit longer to leave for the day, it’s really not easy being green, but she doesn’t mind the solitude. Sometimes Ari comes by to say goodbye, and sometimes she doesn’t. Today is one of the lucky days.
Ariana flops down onto her couch dramatically, the essence of Galinda still in the room with them. Cynthia laughs at her antics. “You were brilliant today, you know that?” She asks over her shoulder, slipping a pair of chunky earrings into her ears.
“I was silly today,” Ariana replies, brushing her off.
Cynthia turns around, wanting Ariana to see the truth on her face when she replies. “That’s true,” she agrees. “But you were hilarious. And brilliant. Everyone is going to fall in love with you when they see this film. You are aware of that, yes?”
She sends a very direct look towards her friend. Ariana covers her face with her hands. She’s too cute for words when she wants to be. “Please shut up.”
“Hey,” Cynthia says, affronted. “I mean it. I’m a Capricorn, I don’t lie.”
“You’re very kind,” Ariana concedes. She really ought to learn to accept nice words, especially when they are true. Cynthia rolls her eyes, even though the blush that spreads across her cheeks only makes her want to kiss her. There’s nothing lovelier than making that sweet little blush spread along her throat and chest.
“I’m also telling the truth,” Cynthia emphasizes. She comes over to sit next to her on the sofa. Softly, she asks, “What do I have to do to prove it to you?”
In an instant Ariana’s expression changes, with Cynthia so close. Up until now, they’d been doing so well. A wanton look overtakes the shyness of her features. She looks down at Cynthia’s lips. This truly isn’t what Cynthia was after when she came over to sit down, but she is not upset over the turn of events.
Cynthia waits, not daring to move but desperately wanting to see what will happen next. She doesn’t have to wait long. Ariana pulls Cynthia’s face towards her own by the back of her neck, and takes her lips in a kiss.
It’s hot and heavy from the start, completely unlike the last time. There’s no exploratory pecks or sweet chaste kisses, right now Ariana knows what she wants and takes it with both hands. Cynthia is surprised but thrilled, choosing to match her energy immediately. Ariana’s hands are everywhere, starting at her neck but flowing down her body, pushing her clothes aside and pulling her in.
There was something so alluring about the curve of Ari’s nose, and the sharp edge of her jaw. Cynthia doesn’t stop herself from leaning in close and nipping at it, she doesn’t stop herself from running a tongue along the shell of her ear. Ariana is sensitive here, and on her neck, too. She gasps and moans in the most delicious way, and Cynthia has barely gotten started. She wants to eat her alive.
They were laughing their heads off a few short hours ago. That’s the beauty of this, isn’t it? Ariana is capable of effortlessly pulling her out of her own serious head, and melting her into laughter with ease in a way not many people can. And then she’s able to turn around and drive her absolutely wild.
When Ariana pulls back, they are both panting and disheveled. Cynthia lifts off Ari’s gigantic pink sweatshirt, appreciating the gentle curves of her breasts, the freckles on her ribs, coming in close to kiss them. Ariana’s fingers smooth over her head, and she hums appreciatively as Cynthia makes her way down her body.
Cynthia loves this, she craves it. Sometimes, she fears she will never get enough. She never planned for anything like this to happen, but here she is, addicted.
Finally, crouched down between her legs, Ariana shoves her leggings mostly off and urges Cynthia to pull them the rest of the way.
Earlier, Ariana had scoffed at Cynthia’s compliments, brushed them off like they were nothing, like they were untrue. She wouldn’t lie, not to someone she adored so much, not to Ariana.
On her knees, she draws in close, kissing her inner thighs, suckling at the sensitive skin with her teeth. She waits for Ariana’s eyes to find her own.
“You are spectacular.” She places a kiss on the damp, lacy fabric covering her.
Ariana gasps, lifting her hips to encourage Cynthia to keep going. She will, of course, but she has to ask first, “Do you believe me now?”
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“We shouldn’t,” Ari says, even as she grabs onto Cynthia’s waist even tighter. Shouldn’t what? Get carried away? Want each other this much? Keep coming back for more?
Cynthia sighs into her mouth. “I know, my love, I know.” Her touch is featherlight. “I just needed a kiss.” She takes one, and then another. “When I saw you standing there you looked too pretty to resist.”
Cynthia is such a damn charmer. She could make the world fall at her feet if she took the time to do it. Thankfully, tucked away like this, she’s all hers. Ariana can’t stop herself, she kisses Cynthia like the world is ending, like she’s caught up in a spell. She tries to suffuse as much emotion into it as she can. She’s ever mindful of their limited time, even more mindful of smudging Cynthia’s intricate makeup or messing up her couture.
Cynthia’s mouth is so soft, so lovely, but so wicked all the same. Just when Ariana is least expecting it, she feels a flash of teeth before they retreat again, making her stomach swoop. Cynthia swallows up the little sounds she makes, keeping them for herself.
No one may be actively looking for them, but someone is certain to be wondering where they are.
Universal Pictures had enough money to throw the most lavish parties, sometimes for hardly a reason at all. Thankfully the one tonight was one they could quietly attend, instead of being in the spotlight. It was best to enjoy that notion while it lasts. Once Wicked hit the big screen, the studio made it very clear that press and events would be plentiful.
But not tonight, they have a little more time.
Ariana feels Cynthia slowing down, breaking their kiss just to hold her close for a moment longer. Ariana wills her heart to slow down, to not break. She sees a similar look cross Cynthia’s face.
Sorry, she wants to say, but doesn’t. She isn’t sorry at all. She couldn’t resist if she tried.
From the dazed look in her eyes she has a feeling Cynthia wouldn’t have accepted an apology anyway.
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Tonight wasn’t supposed to be romantic.
But it’s rainy and chilly, and they are seated at a cozy restaurant in East London. There are low lights, and candles and soft music. The world seems to have stood still and forgotten them, leaving them cocooned away from anything that could cause harm or worry. Somehow though, Ariana believes that even in the worst of places, romance would find them anyway.
After dinner they split an Uber meant to drop Cynthia off first. That’s the plan at least, until the car pulls to a stop outside the flat where Cynthia’s staying. She turns coy eyes to her side and asks Ariana, “Do you want to come inside for a bit?”
She shouldn’t. Not with the way Cynthia’s tight leather pencil skirt has been hugging her hips all night, or the way the city lights reflect in her dark lovely eyes. She should go home and get some rest before her early call time tomorrow. She should let Cynthia close the car door and put as much distance between them as possible.
But deep down, Ariana knows that she was never going to say no.
“Okay,” she replies. “Just for a minute.”
Ariana can’t take her eyes away as Cynthia leads them up the stairs. Just once, Cynthia looks over her shoulder on the way inside. Her gaze smolders hot enough to burn, and Ariana feels that familiar heat as it swoops low in her belly.
There’s little pretense, if any at all. Cynthia is pushed against the front door very shortly after closing it. With a grin, she pulls Ari tight into her own body as her back hits the hardwood. The kiss she lays on Ariana’s lips is soft but hungry. Already, there’s a hint of her tongue. Already, Ariana feels her body heating up.
Her kisses shouldn’t feel like absolution, like they are the only thing keeping her tethered to herself. “Why did you have to look so pretty tonight?” Cynthia asks, her hands caressing Ari’s face. Her voice is so soft, so reverent.
“Me?” Ariana replies, a bit scandalized. “I could hardly keep my eyes off of you.”
Cynthia grins.”I know. I didn’t want you to.”
Ariana nearly rolls her eyes. She would if the way Cynthia latches onto her neck weren't quite so enticing. She knows better than to leave a bruise, but she can tell she wants to. In another life, she could just throw on a turtleneck for work in the morning and call it a day. In another life, she likes to think they still would have found each other and ended up exactly where they are.
“Did you wear this skirt on purpose?” Ariana gasps as Cynthia’s lips find the spot below her ear that sets her body alight. In return, she grabs Cynthia’s ass. Cynthia moans into her neck, her lips never leaving their spot. It’s not often that she wears form fitting clothing, and honestly it’s probably for the best if Ari wants to keep her sanity. And leather, too? She has no idea how she even formed coherent sentences throughout dinner.
“Did you wear this for me?” She repeats, squeezing lightly.
“Maybe,” Cynthia breathes into her ear. When she takes a step back, there’s a playful heat in her gaze. Ariana is so, so, done for.
“Would you like to see what else I wore for you?” Faux innocence colors her features, even as her voice drops low and dirty.
“Please,” Ariana sighs, already far gone.
“Come on then, my love.” Cynthia laces their fingers together and heads in the direction of the bedroom. “I’ll show you.”
At the foot of her bed, Cynthia urges Ari to sit, kissing her chastely on the lips before taking a step back. Her fingers move along the buttons of her blouse, slowly unworking them one by one. Underneath it she wears no bra, but a silk camisole, lacy and thin enough to almost see through.
Her nipples stand firm and proud, the outline of the piercings that Ariana loves to run her tongue along, on display. Just the shadow, the suggestion of them is enough to make her mouth water.
Cynthia lets her look, enjoying the obvious attention she has captured. After a moment she lifts the delicate garment off completely. The low lamplight plays off her abs in the most enticing way. Ari loves to run her tongue along those, too.
She watches, transfixed as Cynthia unzips her skirt and nearly faints at the other delights revealed. Once she steps out of it, Ariana can see Cynthia’s dark stockings are held up delicate lace garters, stretched beautifully over her lush thighs.
She’s left just in her expensive lingerie and heels, looking about as delicious as anyone ever could. The smirk on Cynthia’s face at Ari’s expression is somehow both endeared and prideful. She’s trouble, and she knows it.
Once she walks within reach, Ariana plucks at the band of a garter, watching it snap against Cynthia’s thigh. She inhales sharply at the sting.
Ariana smiles. Voice raspy, she asks, “You wore this for me?”
Cynthia steps in close, covering her lips with her own.
“All for you.”
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Even though today was the last day of filming, tomorrow will certainly be worse. Today, they can hold onto the dregs of this extraordinary project. Soon, sooner than they would like, they will have to start to let go.
The last thing Cynthia wants right now is to be alone. She’s glad that Ariana hasn’t left her side since the cameras stopped rolling. Every few minutes a couple of tears fall from one set of eyes or the other. It’s not quite sadness, but a feeling that might be too full to name.
Ariana is in her street clothes, they stopped by her trailer first for her to change. She hasn’t said much since they left the set, but that’s alright. Cynthia doesn’t have much to say in return. Besides, she still has most of her green to wash off before they can rejoin society. Maybe going out tonight for a bit might help them, perhaps somewhere small for dinner or a drink.
“Baby?” Cynthia asks in Ari’s direction.
She’s damn near catatonic, looking devastated and small. “Yeah?”
“I just need to shower off the last of the green,” Cynthia says, softly. “I won’t be long.”
Ariana looks up at her, eyes clear despite their sadness. She may be upset, but she’s going to be alright, Cynthia knows. “Can I join you?” Ariana asks.
Cynthia has never heard a better idea in all her life.
The small shower is cramped, but they cling to one another anyway, not taking up much space. There’s a desperation beneath their movements that Cynthia hopes will subside with time. She’s not going anywhere, and Ariana better not either. They promised to always be there for each other, on and offscreen. For good.
The water is cleansing in more ways than one. It helps to wash just a bit of the sadness away and start to soothe them, in the absence of the routine they’ve come to know. It’s comforting to be close, just like this, in their little bubble. Cynthia looks down, watching the green makeup get carried away by her soap. Ariana looks like she wants to cry again, seeing the last of the pigment swirl its way down the drain.
It’s time to remind her, remind them both, of their promise. “Remember what I said?” Cynthia asks, voice barely above a whisper.
Ariana nods but she repeats it anyway, looking into Cynthia’s eyes with earnestness that would be impossible not to believe. “You will always have me.”
“That’s right,” Cynthia replies. “Always.”
Ariana’s lips find hers as they dip under the cascade of hot water. She sighs deeply as Ari lovingly lathers soap over her skin. Those signs turn to gasps as long slim fingers slip between her legs.
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On the red carpet before a premiere, they are positively buzzing. Underneath it all, there are nerves and emotion, but overall the energy is electric. Interviewers pull them aside as they pose for photos and sign autographs, and they willingly soak up all the attention.
One in particular asks them both, “What is the weirdest thing you’ve learned about each other?”
It’s an odd question, but it’s fun. Far better than, “Why the hell are the two of you crying all the time?” so they will take it.
In all fairness, they have learned all sorts of things about one another over the last few years. Many, in fact. Most of them, they cannot ever, ever, say aloud.
Ariana has learned that Cynthia likes teeth on her neck and hands on her ass. She can be as focused and as serious as they come, but she loses her train of thought and blushes when Ariana kisses just below her ear and says, “Well don’t you look gorgeous today?”
Cynthia has learned that Ariana likes when her lips are bitten, and when her nipples are kissed. She has learned that Ariana, notoriously terrible at taking compliments, accepts them perfectly well when Cynthia whispers them as she comes up for air in between her legs.
No, no. It’s best to keep such things quiet.
“She hates onions and garlic,” Ariana says, safely. Instead of, she likes when I slip my hand inside her panties, and then I take my time. “She can’t stand them.”
Cynthia laughs, “And she hates flying bugs.”
It’s true. They do hate those things.
But what they truly hate the most is the return to reality, when they both have closed doors and lives and responsibilities separating them. They hate the harsh comedown from a high.
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The press tour is gruelling but fun, a whirlwind of activity always surrounding them. There are so many locations and outfits and interviews, it’s hard to keep track of it all. And cameras. So, so many cameras. It takes a lot of energy to keep a mask in place the second they step foot outside their hotel.
But the day of press is over now.
There’s a knock on Ariana’s hotel room door.
Cynthia is wearing a smart little asymmetrical blazer, and there are bold emerald stripes on her tie. Ari smiles, and grabs ahold of those green stripes, pulling her over the threshold and into the room.
She’s not even sure who speaks. “One last time?”
Who are they kidding? They simply can’t stay away. It will never, ever, be the last time.