Callie was staring at her lips again.

Normally she could ignore it. She'd change the subject or playfully throw some sort of snack food at her if they were at Joe's, but tonight? Tonight was different.

Erica had drained one too many glasses of wine and that ever present warm buzz in the pit of her stomach was only winding more tightly as the evening progressed. But instead of leaving like she normally would have, running scared when the danger of losing her self control arose, she found herself reaching across the table and twining their fingers together before tugging Callie out onto the tiny dance floor. Her traitorous arms had already wound their way around the younger woman's waist before her booze laden brain realized exactly what she'd done and by then... well, by then it was too late.

She froze.

Fuck. Her mother had been right after all. Alcohol was the devil and she was never drinking it again. Ever.

Absolutely mortified, Erica was just about to pull away and apologize when she felt it... The sway of hips bumping against hers and small but deceivingly strong hands sliding up her arms until they rested somewhere between her chest and shoulders.

She shivered. Skin prickling with excitement as her eyes fluttered shut and she thanked every god she could think of for not getting her presumptuous ass kicked to the curb. She was going to remember every touch, every gasping breath that fluttered past her cheek and the way Callie's giggles sounded as they started swaying to the music in a jumble of awkward steps. Whatever this was- and it was something- she promised herself that she was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Because quite honestly, it was unlikely to ever happen again. And if she was going to hell, then dammit she was going to have a great time on the bus ride down there!

With that in mind, Erica's grip tightened around the flair of Callie's hips. Tugging her closer until their stomachs and breasts brushed together. Sparking the beginning of a delicious friction between them, lost amongst a sea of invading college students and anonymity. A feeling so intoxicating that she trembled in her friend's embrace, a tiny groan slipping from the back of her throat, and for the first time in months she didn't try and hide it.

It was freeing.

Terrifying even.

And she found that the longer they danced, the more she began to liken it to going out on your first date with the most popular boy in school and bungee jumping off of a hot air balloon over a pit of rattlesnakes all wrapped up in one single moment. It was always totally nerve wracking, but usually worth it in the end... right?

So she decided to jump.

Erica closed the final gap between them. One hand cupping the side of Callie's face, fingers tightening in a tangle of damp hair as she angled their mouths together and met her in a kiss.

It wasn't perfect (far from it actually) and just like she'd suspected, Callie hadn't been expecting it at all. But with a gentle nudge and a teasing nip she managed to coax those incredibly soft lips open and slip inside. What she found was heaven. Hot and sweet, a mixture of tequila and berry chapstick. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, making her belly flip and heart race.

And then she was gone.

Erica gasped. Watching helplessly as Callie reared back with wide eyes and a gaping jaw.

"What the hell was tha-"

"Shut up, Cal," she pressed a nervous finger over her mouth, begging her not to go, "Please- I don't care if we regret this in the morning. I just... just kiss me, okay? Let me down easy later if you have to, but... Please, Callie? Kiss me."

Callie's gaze fell down to her lips, like she was seeing them for the first time, even though that's exactly what got them into this mess to begin with. And for a second, with her heart in her throat and a tear slipping down her heated cheek, Erica was sure that she'd just lost her best friend.

But then she was surrounded; hands winding around the back of her neck, all mouth and tongue and flowery vanilla perfume. Her body soared and her overworked mind became blessedly blank of anything other than the woman in her arms.

If tomorrow rolled around and Callie decided that she didn't want this- want her. She could deal with that. Because tonight? Tonight was different.

It was theirs.

End.