Work Text:
Grey clouds roll in and a steady torrent of rain begins to fall in the twenty minutes between entering the Tesco and checking out. A wall of rain pours down beyond the awning where Johanna and Rachel stand with groceries in hand. It’s coming down so heavily that the car park several yards away is barely visible in the muted daylight.
Rachel turns to Johanna and raises an eyebrow. “Shall we make a run for it?” Her words are quiet against the rain hammering down over their heads.
Johanna considers for several moments. Their flat is down the road. It’s not as though they have any other plans in the next hour outside of making it back home and unloading the groceries. And nothing they bought will be harmed if some water happens to leak into the bags.
“Why not?” she replies with a little shrug. “Let’s live a little.”
Rachel sets her bags down on the concrete kerb and proceeds to tightly knot the handles. Johanna does the same and tucks her purse inside her jumper in hopes to keep it dry.
“Whenever you’re ready, Rach.” Johanna says.
Rachel looks her square in the eye. “On three?”
“Yes.”
“One–”
Rachel turns on her heel and darts into the downpour leaving Johanna slack jawed after her for a few moments. She takes a deep breath before tightening her grip on the bags and quickly follows Rachel. The rain soaks her within seconds, and she shrieks at the unpleasant feeling of being doused in water fully clothed.
“Rach!” she calls when they’re halfway down the block.
Rachel turns around and gives Johanna a quick once over before laughing, her entire face lighting up. Fondness washes over Johanna like a wave and she can’t help but laugh also—the childlike joy of the situation and Rachel’s laughter is infectious. It’s rather easy to be like this with her. Silly. Carefree. Happy.
Rachel’s feet continue to carry her backward although she does slow down to a normal pace as Johanna draws nearer. Puddles litter the uneven pavement. Some are unavoidable as Johanna runs and deep enough to splash water up her ankles. Her trainers squelch uncomfortably with every step and she winces. Rain sluices off the bags with every gentle swing of her arms. The distance between them closes in a matter of seconds, and Rachel turns back around once Johanna is by her side.
“My socks are soaked through,” Rachel says, demonstrating with a little shake of her foot on her next step.
“Everything is soaked through,” corrects Johanna, whose limp hair now frames her face. Her clothes stick to her like a second skin. Rachel is of course in a similar state—her curls have lost much of their volume, and Johanna can see the outline of her bra through her thin blouse.
They walk side by side at a brisk pace the rest of the way, darting around passersby on the pavement with umbrellas held tightly in their hands, and it isn’t long before they are walking up the stairs of their flat. Johanna gently shakes the bags and leaves them against the door under the protection of the roof before fishing out her purse from her jumper to find her keyring. Rachel sets hers down next to them. Water drips onto the dry concrete.
Johanna has the key inserted into the lock and is about to turn it when Rachel’s hand closes around hers. The other keys jangle against the wooden door. She turns her head to look at Rachel when cool lips meet her own. Rachel gently pulls Johanna’s hand from the key and tangles their fingers together. Her other hand reaches up to brush some of Johanna’s stringy hair off her face before settling lightly on her jaw. She presses closer to Johanna and deepens the kiss. Johanna moans softly into it and brings her free hand to rest on Rachel’s waist. A sliver of skin is exposed under her fingertips where Rachel’s blouse has ridden up, and Johanna takes the opportunity to slide her fingers along the expanse of it before trailing underneath the hem.
They continue like this for what could be minutes or hours—with hands gently exploring waists, necks, backs, and lips moving against each other or pressed hotly against the curve of each other’s throats—before pulling away to catch their breaths. Rachel leans her forehead against Johanna’s and rests a hand on the curve of her waist. The other finds Johanna’s again and holds it.
“What’s the special occasion?” Johanna murmurs, rubbing gentle circles into Rachel’s lower back with her other hand.
“I love you, Jo.”
Warmth and affection spread through Johanna’s chest. She smiles and presses a chaste kiss to the tip of Rachel’s nose.
“And I love you,” she replies earnestly before taking a step back. Rachel’s hand slips from her hip. “We should stop giving our neighbours a free show and go peel out of these clothes so we can dry off.” She squeezes Rachel's hand before letting go and turns back to the door to unlock it. “The food probably needs to be wiped off before it's shelved, too.”
Rachel rolls her eyes at Johanna’s back as she gathers some bags. “I doubt anyone sees nor cares,” she says.
Johanna cracks open the door and drops her keys back in her purse before taking the remaining bags. She gently toes the door open wider and takes a step over the threshold before looking back over her shoulder at Rachel.
“What do you say we have a hot shower after everything is put away?” she asks with a small tilt of her head and a sparkle in her eye.
“I could certainly go for one. The sooner the better,” Rachel replies, gesturing at Johanna to hurry up through the door. The bags crinkle in her hands and fling droplets around. “But we won’t get there if you block the entryway and drip water all over the floor,” she continues. “After you.”
“Yes ma’am.”
