Work Text:
Daria sat, frozen. She hadn't been touched this much since...she'd never been touched this much, not by anyone who wasn't related to her, and it had been a long time since she'd started taking cash for the privilege.
On her shoulder, Brittany sighed. The mixture of vanilla perfume and mint mouthwash intensified in Daria’s nose; she appreciated that at least the girl didn’t stink. It made the body heat less oppressive. She could be immobilized in worse situations.
Though not by much. Daria could feel the press of Brittany’s breast against her arm. Wouldn’t it hurt, sleeping this way? She imagined napping too long on the couch had to be more of a pain for someone like Brittany; even with the use of a good pillow, which Daria didn’t think she was.
It would’ve been more comfortable the other way around, her head on Brittany’s shoulder. Well, her shoulder had to be muscular, at least a little, with the cheerleading, but there were her—Daria stopped. Her gaze had landed on the breasts rising and falling under the blue bodice of the cheerleader uniform. She turned her eyes away from them. They continued to make their presence known, brushing over her skin as if the sleeve of her jacket was nonexistent. Warm.
She’d been wrong. There was no situation which could be worse than this one. Daria had thought she was going to be the person taken advantage of here. Stuck on a project with someone who not only didn’t value reading, but was afraid to be associated with it, and didn’t have enough brain cells left to try anyway; the work was easy, but it was the principle of the thing. Yet Brittany had shown, if not enthusiasm, then at least a willingness to try to understand what they were doing.
Look how you’ve repaid her. Having a fantasy about her breasts. Where did that come from? Fantasies were not a strange experience for her, but she had never had one so physical.
She’d never had a reason. No one had sat so close and given her the opportunity to just ogle them.
She was not ogling Brittany. This hadn’t been an opportunity offered; it couldn’t be. And she couldn’t be taking it.
Daria took a breath. In the second that passed, Brittany was off her shoulder and yawning. She squeaked. Daria stilled once more.
“Daria, your face is red. Are you going to need to go to the hospital again?”
At least the project was done.