Batteries Not Needed

Avi sits on the couch like she's about to come out of her skin, eyes darting toward the front door every five seconds. Two years is too fucking long. The knock hits and she's on her feet, yanking the door open so hard it nearly bounces off the wall. Anny stands there, and they scream at the same time, crashing into each other like they can't believe the other one's real. They end up on the couch, hands already wandering, eyes stuck on each other. Avi's talking fast, laying out plans she made weeks ago, while Anny half-groans and says can't they just stay in tonight. She flew in from Germany, for Christ's sake. Avi huffs but gives in, walks her to the guest room, and leaves her to unpack. Anny's barely out of sight when Avi slips back in, rifling through the open suitcase. She stops cold when her fingers close around silicone and clicks the power button. Dead. Bold choice, bringing a vibrator on vacation. Anny walks out of the bathroom and catches her red-handed, but instead of getting mad she just smirks and drops onto the bed next to her. They talk about the toy like it's the most normal thing in the world until Avi blurts out the question that's been burning a hole in her tongue. Does that mean Anny likes girls? Anny laughs like Avi's the last one to figure it out. The laugh barely finishes before they're kissing, hard and hungry, months of distance burning off in seconds. Avi shoves Anny onto her back and dives between her thighs, tongue working deep while fingers slide in rough and fast. They grind against each other, legs tangled, chasing every bit of friction they can find. Jet lag doesn't stand a chance. Avi's already thinking about all the ways she's going to wreck the rest of this trip, starting right here.