perverbially: (Default)
perverbially ([personal profile] perverbially) wrote on May 31st, 2010 at 10:56 pm
(FICLET: ADRIAN/FRANZISKA) Champagne
Title: Champagne
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Spoilers: Nothing specific.
Pairing(s): Adrian Andrews/Franziska von Karma.
Genre: The fluffiest post-smut you ever did see!
Warnings/Rating: Er. Mentions of drunk!sex? Slight exhibitionism? Competitive sexing? Crack? M-ish? I DON'T KNOW OKAY.
Notes: Another one I finally finished up. Unbetaed. Ahem :3
Summary: Franziska crosses one leg over the other, the smug smirk returning. "That would be when, upon our arrival, you foolishly announced you were going to - hmm, what was it? - oh yes, 'make me come so hard I wouldn't be able to walk straight for days.'"

The sky is a pale, watery pink when she wakes, stretching aching limbs in the soft sheets and breathing in the scent of freshly-brewed tea and Franziska's shampoo. She squints at the bedside table; the clock face is a blur of colour as her fingers quest for her glasses, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her other hand.

"Your glasses are on the bathroom counter," Franziska's clipped voice comes from the direction of their en-suite. "Hang on a moment."

Adrian pulls the sheets up around her as she waits, stretching her legs out again. Her muscles protest vigorously. "Ouch!"

Franziska snorts as she hands the glasses to her, and when her face comes into focus, she is smirking. Fully-dressed already, her hair still slightly damp, she sits down on the bed beside Adrian, picking up a cup of black tea from the tray beside their bed and passing it to her. "Sore, are we?"

Adrian smiles sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ear. She takes a sip of tea, winces at the bitterness. "Only a little. How about you?"

Franziska purses her lips as she pours herself another cup of tea, shooting Adrian a sly glance. "Me? I am in perfect form, as usual. A little tired, perhaps."

"I think you mean 'hungover'."

"I do not," Franziska protests - but even as she says it, her cheeks flush ever-so-slightly. She takes a long swallow of tea. "I drank you under the table, Adrian Andrews, as you should be well aware."

"If you say so," Adrian teases lightly. She leans back against the pillows, sipping the black liquid carefully in an attempt to defend against the ripple of nausea tugging at her insides.

Last night is, admittedly, the kind of pleasant, distorted blur she hasn't experienced in some time, but some memories of it become sharper than others as her brain starts to recollect itself. She remembers Franziska in black silk, pale face glowing in a lovely manner after one too many glasses of wine. She remembers struggling to keep a straight face as the throaty voice in her ear whispered a sardonic narration of the various officials and dignitaries crossing the ballroom, tales of their most sordid dalliances. Most of all, though, she remembers fumbling to help Franziska out of that black silk at the end of the night, kicking off her own heels even as her hands found the flesh she had been waiting for all evening. She inhales deeply, grimacing as a lance of pain hits behind her right eye. "I told you, didn't I? Champagne and I... we don't get along."

"Actually, I believe what you told me was that champagne 'gave you a headache'," Franziska challenges over her tea. "You failed to mention the part where it would lead to you attempting to remove my underwear in front of the Chancellor and all of his associates."

"Oh, my goodness..." Adrian cringes, covering her eyes with a hand.

"Fortunately, they were all as drunk as we were," Franziska continues, with an unexpectedly roguish grin. "And equally fortunately, I am not the kind of abysmally foolish drunkard most people seem to be. I got us home before you had your way with me, after all."

"I don't suppose you remember at what point I thought it was a good idea to leave my glasses in the bathroom?"

Franziska crosses one leg over the other, the smug smirk returning. "That would be when, upon our arrival, you foolishly announced you were going to - hmm, what was it? - oh yes, 'make me come so hard I wouldn't be able to walk straight for days.'"

Adrian feels her whole face fill with colour. "Oh my..."

Franziska laughs. "Don't worry - I responded in kind, of course. And if I do say so myself, you seem to be the sorer of the two of us, do you not?"

"That is really nothing to be proud of, you know," Adrian protests weakly.

"You should know better than to challenge me in such a foolish manner," Franziska says, with another satisfied smile. "And quite apart from that, you most definitely started it."

--
fin
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