Carrying On

K. Ryan


"I was," Alanna smirked. "A very convincing Alan."

Kel shifted, considering. "Alanna, no."`

"Excuse me?"

The bed creaked as she sat and stretched, the sheet collapsing in mad folds around her hips. "You would have looked like a twelve-year-old boy," she said. "An undernourished one."

Alanna's spluttering from the bathing room made Kel smile.

"What? I'm sure you never ate your vegetables."

"Close your eyes, Lady Knight."

"Excuse me?"

Alanna stuck her head around the door, expression serious, voice hoarse. "You heard me, Kel. Close your eyes."

"I…"

"You'll do it?"

Kel stared. That voice was all the kisses from earlier. Every press of tongue against her own, every taste and catch of teeth and breath and heartbeat. She felt Alanna's nails score her throat and breasts, in that voice. Her own scent rose up around her—it was still in her hair, her mouth and skin. Her fingers tingled, remembering the slow swallow, the suck and release. All of that was in the voice, echoes of sharper cries and groans, the noises she learnt she could startle from this smaller, vibrant woman with just a swipe and lick and hum. She heard-felt muscles work under her mouth, against her face and hands. All of that, in three words. Her eyes closed.

"Yes."

"Very good. Keep them closed."

Small clicks and rustles. Strange thumps. Being naked and blind was not the same as being simply naked. Undressed was different to undone. Footsteps in the hall. Leaves and fine branches scratching the window. She heard faint sparrow-flaps and pitters and chirps; all, somehow, sounds of sunlight.

She heard Alanna breathing. She felt one hand press over her closed eyes. Heard a laugh in her ear and felt lips behind it. Saw sparks. "Oh, I…"

"You have a lot to learn, still, my lady."

The bed shifted and groaned under Alanna's slight weight, and Kel felt her hands, small and strong as they slipped over her, beneath her, urging her to her side. "Lioness? Ah!" Breasts against her back, pressed close, nipples hard, and Alanna's arms running along her arms, her shoulders and sides. Curling at her hip. She felt the soft give of her skin, her smallness and her heat, and hardness. Strangely cool, slick hardness against her hip. She felt herself laugh. "Lioness?"

Alanna reached her hand, and brought it down between, curling her fingers deliberately around the length of it. Kel, intrigued, shifted her fingers, brought her hand back, further back, to where—oh.

"You have that inside—"

"—Sometimes," Alanna gasped, "I am a very passable Alan. You can open your eyes now. And on your back, please! You're too cursed tall and I'm too tiny and delicate this sort of carrying-on."

Kel laughed, turning to face her friend and to kiss her until neither of them could breathe, and hooking a leg around her hips to pull her close, laughter catching as this pressed her more fully against the toy. "We… adapt," she said.


Note: Written for the first round of Goldenlake's SMACKDOWN: A fanfiction fight for Kel's non-canonical hand. Competitor: Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau. Characters are in no way mine. The competition is the brainchild of Goldenlake message boards. They, likewise, neither own nor profit from these characters and/or their geographies.