[Wasn't gonna post today but I had such amazing food that I changed my mind. All the hurt and comfort in here as requested by @itsallyuriagegap.]
The thing about being snuggled after sex with two wonderful women is that when you wake up, you’re stuck in the middle. Usually Trinity would love the way both Baran and Yolanda have their arms around her waist, with Yolanda’s hair acting as a curtain against the sunlight streaming in through the window, but dread starts to fill her as soon as last night's conversation comes back to her. The arms start to feel like vines, wrapping around and strangling her - shit, she needs to get out of here.
The good thing about doing gymnastics for almost seventeen years is that she is able to slip under and out without jostling the two women too much, even mid panic. She’s meant to be good, uncomplicated, how can she possibly be so stupid as to say that stuff? She needs- she needs the bathroom, she needs cold water.
Trinity’s reached all the way to 50 (counting backwards from 300) with the tap water falling over hands when she hears the knock, “Trin, Baran’s cooking breakfast, do you wanna have some pancakes?”
“Yea- yeah just give me a minute,” her voice comes out a bit rough, its probably because she just woke up, there’s no marks around her neck, and they would have definitely applied some bruise cream on it if they went that hard.
When she finally heads out, an unusual sight greets her; both Baran and Yolanda are sitting at the round dining table, with a plate stacked high with pancakes (her weakness when it comes to breakfast foods) in the middle. They always eat breakfast at the kitchen counter, leaning against cupboards and stealing food from each others’ plates. Guess they want to talk about it then.
“So what’s the plan for today? I think I’m gonna head over to the apartment, take last night’s leftovers, Huckleberry and I need to catch up on our trashy reality shows.”
“Well… we were hoping that you would stay a bit after breakfast, we need to have a conversation about yesterday,” Baran was clearly trying very hard to approach this gently.
“What’s there to talk about, you both came home frustrated, didn’t eat dinner, we had good sex, we went to bed.”
“Was it even good for you?” Yolanda muttered under her breath, but it was still heard by the room, enough to make Trinity flinch a bit.
“Yolanda,” the resulting chastising from Baran, was cut off.
“She said her mother used to call her a whore, sorry if I’m mad that we somehow never talked about this before,” her head sharply turning towards Trinity then, “Why have we never talked about this before? Why have you been letting us say that stuff to you if you don’t like it? Is this some new sort of self-”
“Don’t you fucking dare go there!”
“Well, what else did you want us to think, Trinity? Why-”
“Okay that’s enough, instead of screaming, we will finish breakfast, and then communicate like civilized people.”
“Yolanda, finish your pancake please, do not make me ask again.”
There’s still three pancakes on the plate in the center ten minutes later, they were definitely meant for Trinity but both Baran and Yolanda were close to finishing their share, and she just wanted it to be over, whatever kind of conclusion this had.
So, she sets her fork and knife down on the plate to signal that she is done before speaking, “I’m not stupid you know, I understand what I’m good for, sex and food, and you both clearly don’t want the latter from me,” a breath, “I just wanted to be good for both of you.”
“Oh, mi vida, I’m so sorry if I ever implied that and hurt you. If anything I thought that it was all I was good for,” Trinity is trying to not let the tears escape, but then she finally lets the tears flow when she’s being pulled in by Yolanda into a bear hug, with Baran walking over to place a gentle kiss atop her head, “You’re always good for us baby, especially when we communicate and you feel good too.”
