Room 7
Summary: Following the events of Stem, Agnes and Rookie learn that they are more alike than they want to admit.
Word count: 3k
Pairings: Detective Agnes O'Connor x Rookie
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Warnings: Swearing, post-coital, teasing, packing, pet names, kissing, sex, strap-on, strap-on sex
Music: How You Remind Me - Nickelback, Soma - The Smashing Pumpkins, Set Fire to the Third Bar - Snow Patrol, You’re All I Got - The Lumineers, The Hand that Feeds - NIN, With Teeth - NIN
A/N: 'Rookie' Hale is @jeridandridge and I's shared OC
“Do you wanna get out of here?”
Agnes’ voice drifts into Rookie’s ear as she slowly pulls away from her. The car windows are fogged and streaked with moisture; their own body odors ever so slightly filling Agnes’ car. Rookie whines and Agnes can’t help but to smile down at her.
“Better than a parking lot, come on,”
Agnes taps the side of Rookie’s thigh as she pushes herself up and climbs over into the front seat to get into the driver's seat. She looks over her shoulder at Rookie and smirks, watching as she pulls her pants back up and fixes her shirt. Hungry eyes taking in every inch of her body.
The younger woman finally pulls herself up and over into the passenger seat and settles in; a loud sigh falls from her mouth as she tries to collect herself. It still feels like her brain is swarming with a millions thoughts and every nerve ending in her body still screaming with the over stimulation of being properly fucked.
All thanks to Agnes and her goddamn cherry stem trick.
“Where are we going to go?”
Rookie’s voice is tender as she puts on her seat belt and settles back. She can feel herself dozing off as her adrenaline comes down. A thought flashes in her mind and her stomach flips.
What if Agnes takes me to her place? I’ve never been at her house before; in her bed.
She bites the inside of her lip before turning her head to try and look out the fogged passenger side window so Agnes can’t see the expression on her face and the blush that’s crept up on her cheeks. She can only picture what Agnes’ bed must be like; to be inside of it with her. To wake up with the sleeping detective nestled so closely against her; completely spent and content.
Maybe that’s asking too much.
“You’ll see. It’s not far.”
And it wasn’t. The drive was maybe twenty minutes away from the bar. No one was really out at this time of night; people going home from night shifts and late night bar dives. Westview wasn’t all that happening in the later hours.
There’s no sign of a suburb as they get closer and Rookie quickly realizes that they won’t be going to Agnes’ house. She sighs quietly under her breath at the mild disappointment. She was sure after that Agnes was going to welcome her into her own private space.
Maybe she thought too much of what they were. Maybe Agnes simply didn’t trust her like that just yet.
Rookie sits back up in her seat as if she had woken up bright eyed and busy tailed. Everything seems too real in the moment and the haze of what she shared in the backseat has faded. The road before her seems too clear and Agnes beside her comes into a full form; not just a concept of what she loves.
She looks over at Agnes and doesn’t stop staring but the detective doesn’t say anything about it, her eyes are on the road before her.
“I’ve been here before,”
And Agnes leaves it at that as she pulls into the parking lot. The two-story building is of old brick with old features that were never updated. Rookie doesn’t have the heart or stomach to ask Agnes why she had been here before. She can’t even think to ask how many times she’s been here before and possibly, with who?
The detective parks her truck and opens up the front door without a word. Rookie watches her as she walks with a powerful stride, all work, to the door that says OFFICE in big, gold letters.
The second Agnes is out of the door, Rookie has her seat belt off and the passenger door swung open so she can get out. She knows Agnes wants to be followed to their room; no time to waste. So much for that chivalrous streak she had back at the bar parking lot.
Rookie is hot on the detective’s heels as she follows; almost bumping into the older woman as she stops abruptly in front of a well-worn wooden door with an identical gold number nailed just above the peep hole.
Room 7.
Rookie stares at the number as Agnes inserts the key and unlocks the door. She turns the handle and lets the door swing open to reveal the motel room. Her eyebrows rise as if waiting to hear anything from Rookie; acceptance or rejection. Anything. The younger woman stands there for another beat or two before she slowly passes by Agnes and steps into the room.
The door hasn’t even shut behind them yet and Rookie drops the first question that pops into her mind,
“Where did you learn that trick, detective?”
Rookie watches over her shoulder as Agnes pulls the key from the lock before closing the door behind them, locking the door. It was just the two of them now; away from anyone else. The bar parking lot had been risky but this was completely private now.
Agnes puts the key into her jeans pocket as she stares Rookie down with a serious expression,
“Oh, you know…I’ve been around before.”
Rookie bites the inside of her cheek at Agnes’ response. She doesn’t know why but the older woman’s response instantly gets under her skin. There’s a sense of deflection there or maybe, the need to make up for something that Agnes doesn’t have. Connection, community. Understanding. Agnes is lacking in all of those things but she refuses to see it and yet, doesn’t try to really hide it away.
Rookie, however, can see right through Agnes’ facade.
“What was the whole thing with you outside of the door? Does the number seven mean something to you?”
Agnes’ question comes out dry as if she doesn’t really care to hear the answer or not. Rookie watches in silence as the older woman starts to unbutton her blue flannel. Rookie’s fingers itch with the carnal desire to be the one undoing those buttons instead.
“I was never really lucky…”
“No? Well, you’re about to be…again…”
Agnes’ response comes with a snort through her nose as she tries to hold back a laugh. Rookie shakes her head ever so slightly before bridging the gap between them; her hands coming forwards to stop Agnes’ from moving any further.
“Let me do this for you…”
Rookie’s voice is gentle, tender as she takes over the unbuttoning situation. Agnes’ hands fall away but her gaze never leaves Rookie’s face. She studies the younger woman and tries to gauge the tension between them that is most definitely there like a thin veil.
Agnes can almost see through it if she really and honestly tried.
Rookie pushes back the flannel shirt; pushing it off of Agnes’ broad shoulders and down her arms. Her breath hitches in her throat as she lets her fingers graze over Agnes’ forearms. She was just wearing a plain grey t-shirt underneath.
Agnes takes a step forward and Rookie a step back. Hands gripping the edges of Agnes’ shirt, Rookie holds on until she feels the back of her legs hit the edge of the motel bed. She doesn’t speak and neither does Agnes. Rookie can still taste the detective on her tongue; against her lips.
Agnes watches as Rookie’s fingers fondle the fabric of her shirt one last time before they pull away to sink lower between them. Agnes can feel that burning in her lower abdomen again; all familiar thanks to the younger woman. She had done it in the back of her truck; fingers creeping down until they slipped past the waist band of her jeans. Agnes basically folds forwards; her face just inches from Rookie’s.
Rookie turns her face ever so slightly to angle her mouth near Agnes’ ear. She can smell the cigarette smoke and the stale beer that lingers on her, soaked into her skin and hair. Rookie breathes in against Agnes and the detective bites back a moan as she presses her hips towards Rookie’s hand.
“You and I…are one in the same…”
Rookie feels the hesitation from Agnes; the slow pull away from her body. Rookie moves faster than the detective can as she presses the palm of her hand against Agnes’ packer. The soft silicone feels welcoming, feels known. She had just had her in her mouth moments ago.
“I don’t think so, kid…”
Agnes’ voice isn’t as strong this time and Rookie knows she’s trying her hardest to deny the truth. Despite pulling away, Rookie finds Agnes pushing forwards once more. Rookie takes Agnes into her hand and the slow stroking starts. The well-worn denim of Agnes’ jeans rubs against the back of Rookie’s hands as Agnes has no intention of pushing her pants down. They can make do just like this; standing before each other like one stands before a full-length mirror to mimic oneself.
“I know so.”
The desire to pull away is so strong that Agnes can taste it in the back of her throat. Rookie’s kisses had tasted like truth and now her hands; the way she used them to touch her was an extension of that. Rookie, as far as Agnes knew, had only ever spoken nothing but truth to her.
And that, above most things, scared Agnes to death.
“You don’t want to be like me.”
Loud and clear, Rookie hears Agnes’ response spoken right into her ear. The younger woman pulls her face away from the side of Agnes’ as she tries to look at the older woman’s face. Agnes looks downwards; eyes to the floor, to their shoes.
Agnes can’t look at her reflection.
Rookie pulls her closer as her hand travels just a little bit lower until she can feel the inside of Agnes’ thighs with the tips of her fingers. Agnes’ skin is burning; so warm that her desire speaks for her. She knows how hard it is for Agnes to ask for anything. She barely asks for help when she needs it. Simple wants and desires are far too much for her even on a good day.
Rookie knows that she can’t back down and she can’t let this go. She needs Agnes to see and understand. She needs Agnes to realize that they are the same. They had always been the same.
“I’m a version of you, Agnes. That’s part of why you’re scared.”
“I don’t think you realize what you’re saying.”
“I know exactly what I’m saying. What I’m saying is you need to let me in. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Agnes pushes forwards until Rookie loses her footing and falls back onto the bed. She’s no longer connected to Agnes; her hand having come out from underneath her jeans. She holds herself up on her forearms and looks up at the detective and can finally read her face in the darkness of the room.
She’s terrified.
“I hope you know what you’re doing here. With me. With someone like me…”
It’s the truest thing Agnes has said since they got to Room 7 and Rookie can barely believe it. That’s another of her fears rearing its ugly head. Agnes thinks she’s too old for anything worth anything. Her time had come and passed. Rookie is the one with all the power and opportunities still fresh at her feet.
"You're...already in, aren't you? I've already let you in because you see yourself in me."
Agnes’ words fall quickly from her lips as she takes another step towards the bed. Rookie spreads her legs with instinct so that Agnes can stand between them, the edge of the bed at her knees.
“And you deny that you see yourself in me when it’s the cold hard truth,”
Rookie doesn’t mean for her response to come out bitter but it does. She doesn’t know how else to get it through Agnes’ thick skull that what she’s been saying has been true.
If they’re going to get anywhere, she needs Agnes to see it, agree to it.
Agnes makes the next move; rapid and quick in one fluid motion like she’s done this a million times before. And maybe she has; Rookie wouldn’t know because Agnes keeps everything so guarded that at the same time, despite knowing exactly who Agnes is, Rookie doesn’t know anything about her at all.
Her jeans come down and she steps out of them quickly; kicking them away from herself. She peels off her shirt and tosses it to the ground. Agnes can feel Rookie’s gaze as she looks her over and the lingering gazes stick to her sports bra and the packer between her legs. She hadn’t fully gotten undressed in the back seat of her truck.
Agnes stands there and watches as Rookie picks herself up from the bed; sitting up on her knees now. The swish of the comforter and sheets beneath her is the only sound in the room besides Agnes’ heavy breathing through her nose.
Rookie gives one final look at Agnes before she turns herself around on the bed. Agnes watches intensely at Rookie and her hands that move with a speed that scares Agnes.
They’re two for two in that department.
The younger woman gathers up her hair; left hand on the top of her head and her right scooping up underneath to pull her hair up into a mock ponytail with nothing but her fingers acting as the elastic band.
Agnes’ breath catches in her throat and she feels unable to move, to speak.
Not to Be Reproduced.
She pulls herself away from her shock at the splitting image before her. It could have been the back of her own head, her own shoulders. The way Rookie’s body turns to curve and sits with purpose on top of the bed. Everything is as it should be. Everything is just like how Agnes remembers it.
She remembers it.
The detective climbs onto the bed behind Rookie who shifts ever so slightly forwards to give Agnes a little bit more room. She can feel her presence behind her. It’s heavy and it’s real.
Agnes makes contact as her hand reaches forward to touch the back of Rookie’s exposed neck and Rookie, cannot help herself as she lets out a desperate whine. Her head falls back and her hands let go of her hair and Agnes can no longer see her fingers on the back of Rookie’s neck.
Agnes applies just a tiny amount of pressure to the tender curve of Rookie’s neck before she shifts closer. Rookie basically falls back into Agnes; melting into her touch. It’s then that Agnes changes up everything she had offered Rookie up until this point.
Her hands pull away and do so only so that she can maneuver Rookie into a position she wants her at.
Rookie is ever slightly turned to face Agnes; a bend in her back and the turn of her neck so that she doesn’t have to look back that far. Agnes’ hands find Rookie’s face to hold her there as she pulls her into a deep, slow kiss. The detective can feel the warm air against her upper lip as Rookie tries her best to keep breathing. She needs to keep breathing.
Rookie slips away so that she can fall back against the bed. So that Agnes can get between her legs; get on top. She’s been allowing a lot for Agnes and wonders if that’s part of the reason she can’t come to understand just how similar they are.
Would Agnes make such allowances for Rookie?
For herself?
The younger woman however can’t think like that, not when Agnes is moving things so quickly along. She notices how her hands shake as if she’s nervous, as if they just hadn’t had an intimate moment in the back of her truck. She moves as if she’s going to be caught any second and reprimanded for doing and wanting and needing such normal things any woman her age is entitled to.
Because despite it all, Agnes is entitled to it. Even if she herself can’t see it.
But Rookie, however, can make Agnes see it.
The shift against the bed and a change in her position so that she can pull her pants down her legs and feel them bunch underneath her until Agnes grabs at the pile of clothing and tosses it away and off of the bed. Her eye is trained on Rookie’s face as she helps her get comfortable and into position; hand holding onto Rookie’s left leg right where her ankle fleshes out to her calf.
Agnes pulls the woman down towards her until they’re at an almost scissoring position with Rookie’s hip turned up and Agnes’ perfectly leveled. Skin to skin in a messy tangle, Rookie lets her hand slide down her chest and past her stomach and feels the coolness of her fingertips tease away at the heat emanating from the crotch of her underwear.
Agnes looks like she’s going to jump out of her skin.
With one simple, perfect movement, Rookie pulls her underwear to the side.
More than an invitation.
She wants Agnes to recognize this side of herself.
Agnes helps as he hooked her hand under Rookie’s thigh to lift up her leg. She taps her warm skin to signal to her to keep it that way; up and at the perfect angle for Agnes to adjust herself.
And she does, finally, because she realizes that in some fucked up way, she and Rookie are one in the same.
At least, in this sense.
The detective guides herself with the help of her hands and hips until the tip of her toy brushes against Rookie’s already engorged folds. Her body was still trying to recover from the truck; arousal was still fresh within herself.
One agonizingly slow push from Agnes and she’s fully inside of Rookie. Wetness seeps into the soft crotch of the detective’s boxers as she stares down between them. The sight of herself inside of Rookie; leg up in the air to give her the best position possible. Deep, intelligent eyes that burn into her own as she watches with purpose.
It could have been Agnes staring back at herself for all she knew.
There was no distinction of where she started
and where Rookie
began.
