Disclaimer: Swingtown is NOT mine. This story wasn't written for profit.
A/N: I've played around with this fandom a few times in the past, but nothing fruitful has ever come of it until now. It's not exactly what I'd been hoping for, but I still adore it, lol! Hope you enjoy it!
Sometimes Susan Miller thought that moving during the summer of 1976 was the biggest mistake of her life. She'd had a stable and happy home with a husband who loved her, two wonderful kids, and a best friend that she adored more than anything in the world. It had been picture perfect.
But at other times? In the weeks and months following her separation from Bruce, she had to admit that it might have been the best thing that ever happened to her.
Now, nearly a year later she found herself sitting in the Decker's kitchen, her kitchen, rocking their son back to sleep in her arms. Or at least she was trying to anyways.
It was early. The sun was just beginning to rise over Lake Michigan and if it wasn't for the deceivingly small stack of papers sitting in front of her on the table, she would have thought that morning had never been more peaceful.
Little Davey cooed softly, nuzzling against her chest. He was so beautiful- a tiny bundle of soft brown hair and dark blue eyes. So trusting and loving.
She missed this. Spending quality time with her children.
She never saw much of her own anymore. Laurie had moved into Doug's apartment once she turned eighteen and BJ had asked to live with his father so that he could be closer to their old neighbor, Samantha. She'd honored his wishes of course, there was a better school system in the city, she couldn't ignore that, but that doesn't mean she didn't miss them both terribly.
The baby began to squirm, snapping her out of her thoughts. His little legs started kicking, quiet whimpers beginning to build. It was only a matter of time before he'd be wailing at the top of his lungs, hungry for yet another meal.
It was time to wake Trina.
The papers would have to wait.
With a deep sigh, Susan stood and made her way into their bedroom. The shades were drawn, only a few slivers of light shining across the sleeping couple. It was a pity to wake the tired mother, she looked so serene. Gone were the bags under her eyes and the constant worry that always adorned her face. She'd certainly taken to parenthood like a fish to water, but everyone gets worn down eventually. Even the best of us. She'd learned that lesson quite quickly, napping at every opportunity.
Tiptoeing across the shag rug she regretfully lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, grinning softly when Trina's body subconsciously curled against hers. Without thinking, she shifted Davey and reached out to her, swiping a few strands of wavy black hair from the younger woman's forehead. She'd let it grow out during her pregnancy, stopping just below her shoulder blades now. Susan had spent many nights, after she and Roger hadn't worked out, lounging behind her on the couch, running her fingers through that very hair while Tom sat at the other end with his wife's swollen feet in his lap as they talked about their day.
They'd grown closer. Took her in when she couldn't stand to be in her own house another second; big and empty, filled with broken memories. They accepted her, made her feel welcome, healed her. And in return, she'd done the same.
"Trina," she whispered, fingers sliding down to caress her cheek, "time to get up."
Drowsy eyes popped open, darting around the room before finally settling on her, "What time is it?"
Trina smiled, lashes fluttering as she leaned into her touch, "He's better than an alarm clock."
"He is," she chuckled, "He's also getting fussy. Poor little man."
"He is, is he?"
Heaving herself up, Trina leaned against the headboard, holding her arms out after sliding the straps of her barely there nightgown off her shoulders exposing her chest. Susan had to fight off a gasp. Trina was her best friend, her house mate, the one person that she could say anything to and know that she wouldn't be condemned for it. But lately, against her better judgment, she'd found herself seeing her in a different light.
She fought it so hard. Torn, clinging to what she knew. Swinging was one thing. Lord knows her horizons had been broadened way beyond anything that she'd ever expected, but developing feelings for another woman? That had blown her mind.
At first she'd been appalled. Then came minor acceptance, followed by curiosity and self-chastising. Eventually though, she stopped denying it. Keeping it to herself, content to just be near her- to share a bed with her and Tom each night.
But at this moment, in the early hours of morning on a warm September weekend, as she placed the baby into Trina's embrace much like she had so many times before, instead of turning away and maintaining a sense of modesty- she gave in. Allowing herself to look on in awe. Observe her for the woman that Susan had come to respect and care for deeply.
Her gaze started wandering. Taking in the rounded curves of her face and the way she smiled as she watch Davey suckle from her swollen breast, kneading it with his chubby fists. She still glowed and it made Susan's heart constrict and her belly warm.
What was she getting herself into?
Trina hissed and leaned her head back against the wall, lips pursing in a way that made her want to lean forward and taste them with her own. But she knew better. Now wasn't the time. She had to be the supportive friend.
"Sore?" she asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.
"Mmm," Trina moaned in confirmation, "He almost let me sleep through the entire night."
A few minutes passed and nothing but the sound of Tom snoring softly filled the silence between them. It was comfortable; intimate. But, when Trina continued wincing, pulling Davey closer in an attempt to alleviate the tightness, she hesitantly scooted forward. Her knee brushing against the other woman's elbow, thighs pressed tightly together.
She hated seeing her in pain.
"Do you- do you mind if I try something?"
Her eyes opened, confusion and curiosity sparking in them as she studied her carefully, before nodding her consent.
With all of the gentleness that she could muster, Susan leaned closer, nervously bringing a shaking hand up to Trina's chest. She could hear her pulse rushing in her ears and feel the tension rising in the air. She'd touched Trina intimately before, but there'd always been another person, or two, involved at the time and even then there'd been unspoken boundaries. This was new territory for both of them.
Her skin was smooth and warm, and Susan's fingertips were crackling with sensation. Circling lightly, stimulating the breast that Davey was nursing off of, slowly moving inward.
"That feels amazing." Trina moaned softly, "Where'd you learn this one?"
"Two kids," Susan grinned, "Bruce used to do it for me in the mornings before he went to work."
"Well it's heaven."
She giggled, "I seem to remember it that way... Why don't you switch sides?"
With a little help, only a few moments later Davey was soon latched on to her other breast and she'd returned to her... massage.
'Helping a friend. Helping a friend. Helping a friend.' she repeated over and over again in her mind.
It wasn't working. The longer they sat there, the more Trina let little noises slip from the back of her throat. Her control was slipping, she couldn't help herself anymore. Her body ached and her breathing had become shallow, throbbing in all of the right places.
She was just about to rub her legs together, as subtly as possible of course, to relieve some of the pressure when she felt a small hand come to rest on her inner thigh. That time she did gasp. Just barely audible. Frozen in place. Her robe was small, night shorts underneath it even smaller. Leaving them flesh to flesh.
She shuddered. Fingers began sliding higher, teasing in a random pattern, making her knees fall open the tiniest bit. It felt as if she were breaking apart from her very core.
"Trina?" she dared to whisper.
Their eyes met.
Her body migrated closer. Inch by inch. Palms slid up the brunette's shoulders and neck, cupping her jaw tenderly, cautiously.
Noses brushed. Warm breath floated past her cheek. The barest hint of lips trembling against her own.
"Is this alright?"
The next thing she knew, a sweet mouth was pressing against her own. Teeth gently nibbling at her bottom lip before Trina's tongue swept inside.
It was slow and sweet. Full of passion and comfort.
Everything she'd expected and more.
"Well, it looks like the party started without me."
Susan gasped and broke away from the kiss. Mortified. Her eyes were wide with fear, taking in Tom's sleepy, yet amused face from where he lay sprawled on his side next to them, one hand supporting his head without a care in the world.
"I uh- We..."
"Shh," he whispered, pressing a finger to her lips before slowly leaning forward and replacing them with his own in a tender kiss, "It's okay. We were wondering how long it would take you."
Her jaw dropped in shock, "You- what?"
Tom chuckled, sharing a knowing look with his wife.
"We asked you to share our bed for a reason," she explained.
"I- I thought that was just so we could take care of Davey..."
Trina smiled, melting her nerves with a simple look, "Oh, it was. Mostly."
A blush rose in her cheeks, fully processing that information. Were they saying what she thought they were saying?
"Are you sure?" she managed to stammer, "I don't want to impose."
Fingers were suddenly tugging at the front of her robe and before she could breath, Trina was kissing her again.
"You're family," she whispered, her forehead resting against Susan's, "and we want you to experienceevery part of what that means."
Susan almost groaned, a grin slowly stretching her lips.
She certainly hadn't expected this when she woke up earlier this morning. But once again, they'd surprised her. Sending her life in a new direction, one that she'd never even realized was there if it weren't for them.
She thought she'd had it all, experienced everything that the world could throw at her.
But maybe this was just the beginning. A fresh start.
And it all began the second she signed the divorce papers sitting on the table, only a few rooms away.