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Alyssa ducks into the stacks and leans back against the shelves housing Parallel Processing through Procedural Generation. She immediately buries one hand in her skirt, her cunt already slick, the other pinching tight around a nipple. She feels reckless and desperate, but if she doesn't do this now she won't survive the rest of the day's revision.
Silently urging herself on as her fingers move roughly against her clit, Alyssa still has the presence of mind to wonder how she got to this point: rationalising a quick go in the library while her Register Machines partner waits for her to return with a fresh set of textbooks. She tells herself not to think too much about it – a familiar entreaty these past few weeks – and concentrates on the task at hand.
Alyssa slips a finger inside herself, biting her lip around a small moan, when the bulb above her head flickers to life. She freezes, hands everywhere they shouldn't be, and peers down the other end of the aisle just as Eva emerges at the mouth of the stacks, heading straight towards her.
As usual, Eva's face betrays nothing, as serious and resolute as when she's working on a particularly difficult tail recursion, and Alyssa can't stand it all of a sudden. For weeks, she's dreamed about Eva's skin, her hair. Memorised the shape of her mouth around vowels and the way her pen moves when she signs her name. But Alyssa wants more than an unflappable study partner whose habits she's endlessly cataloguing, the distance between them measured and unchanging.
Eva finally reaches her, and Alyssa knows that less than half a meter separates them now. She steels herself for a moment before lifting her eyes to Eva's, holding Eva's gaze as she slowly moves her hand inside her skirt. Her clit is swollen and sensitive, and she's even wetter than before; however this ends, it'll be over soon.
She rubs her clit faster, hips tilting up to meet her frantic fingers, back arching against the rows of books supporting her weight. Eva's face is impassive, but Alyssa notices the way her eyes dilate as she watches Alyssa touch herself, nostrils flaring around quickening breath.
The pressure in Alyssa's cunt starts to build and her stomach clenches in anticipation, body poised on that precipice right before the floor drops out from under her. She bites her lip to stop from crying out as the muscles in her legs tighten and her orgasm rushes through her, the back of her head falling roughly against a sharp edge of the bookcase. Her eyes squeeze shut and it's almost too much – she might actually break under the force of it – but she doesn't let up, moving against herself until it's almost painful.
The pleasure recedes from her limbs, leaving them hollow and shaky, and Alyssa's eyes drift open as she starts to come back to herself. Eva catches her wrist as it falls from under her skirt, and Alyssa stops breathing as Eva lifts her hand to her mouth and laves each finger with her tongue. Her fingers slip from Eva's lips a moment later, and Eva smiles at her, somehow both daring and shy. Promising.
Suddenly, Alyssa doesn't regret the countless hours spent tracking Eva's every gesture, measuring the space between them at every turn. Eva's smile, Alyssa's taste on Eva's lips, is finally something Alyssa understands.
Alyssa wraps her hand around the back of Eva's neck and kisses her hard; a promise in return. Because, yes, this is definitely information Alyssa knows what to do with.
**
information credit: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51081
** Alyssa loved the fluffy abomination that her sister bought her as a house warming gift. >>30-33
** fox spirit Eva >>42-43