Like It Always Does (Carol x Maria)
They’re for sure in love.
They’re for sure in love, and they have a kid together, for crying out loud.
And she loves holding her, and being held by her, and hell, she loves sleeping in the same bed as her.
But Carol doesn’t want to have sex. Not with Maria. Not with anyone.
Sometimes, eh, it’s fun enough. If she’s in a very particular mood. And she trusts Maria to not try to make more of it than it is; mutual masturbation, really, with the intimacy of trust and warmth and perfection coursing between them.
That intimacy is more than enough for Carol.
She just wants it to be enough for Maria, too.
And it is. It always, always is.
Because sometimes they’re kissing and it’s lovely but then her body’s just... done. Then she wants to sink back down into Maria’s arms, or cradle Maria back into hers, and watch old Disney films on VHS.
“That okay?” she’ll ask, because she doesn’t want to be a disappointment to her girlfriend.
“Of course,” Maria will answer back, like she always does. Kiss Carol’s hair, like she always does. Resettle in her lap so they can both see the screen properly, like she always does.
And it makes Carol feel the farthest thing from a disappointment; like the’s the opposite, like she’s warm and safe and wanted, like it always does.
