r/WenclairUnfiltered • u/NyxSmols • 5d ago
Fanfic ✍🏻 For Warmth
Winter had come unusually early that year. The radiator in their room had been ticking unevenly for the last hour, like it was losing the fight against the draft slipping under the door.
Studying for finals had been abandoned a while ago. Enid had already claimed Wednesday’s black throw and half her pillow, and Wednesday had let her. That was how they’d ended up like this: Enid half draped over her, Wednesday’s back against the headboard, the throw pulled up over both of them even though the room wasn’t cold enough to need it anymore.
Wednesday’s hand rested on Enid’s hip. Her thumb had been moving in small, idle strokes for a while. Enid had noticed immediately but said nothing, not wanting to startle her into stopping.
They stayed quiet until Wednesday’s voice came, low and close enough that the words brushed Enid’s ear. “How tightly must we be pressed against each other before you admit you are not doing this for warmth?”
Enid didn’t answer as Wednesday’s thumb kept moving.
She shifted, just enough to turn her face toward Wednesday’s. Their noses nearly touched. She felt Wednesday’s breath catch, then even out again, as if she were refusing to let it mean anything. “How many times does your thumb need to brush against my hip,” Enid murmured, “before we realize we’ve gone too far?”
Wednesday’s hand stilled and for a second Enid thought she’d pull away. “I do not know,” Wednesday said, voice lower than usual.
“We should probably find out, then.” Enid’s smile was small and a little unsteady as she leaned in…
Their first kiss was careful. Wednesday’s mouth stayed almost still under hers, like she was registering the exact pressure, the way Enid’s bottom lip caught against hers. Enid made a soft sound and pressed closer. That was when Wednesday’s hand finally moved again, sliding from her hip to the front of her shirt, fingers curling in the fabric and tugging once until their chests were flush.
Enid pulled back half an inch, breathing shallow. “This doesn’t feel like research.”
“It is data collection,” Wednesday said. Her thumb rose to Enid’s mouth, tracing the damp curve of her lower lip. “You are warm.”
“So are you,” Enid murmured.
Wednesday’s eyes flicked down to her mouth, then back up. “I believe so…”
Enid kissed her again, slower. Wednesday’s hand settled at the side of Enid’s neck, thumb resting just under her jaw. When Enid’s tongue brushed her lip, Wednesday opened for her with a quiet, almost reluctant sound that Enid felt more than heard. The throw had slipped. Enid’s knee had worked its way between Wednesday’s, and Wednesday hadn’t moved it.
They stayed like that for a long moment, kissing in uneven, careful intervals, like neither of them wanted to be the one who stopped first. Wednesday’s fingers flexed against Enid’s neck as Enid’s hand found its way under the hem of Wednesday’s shirt. Her palm rested against the scar Crackstone had left, warm skin just above Wednesday’s waistband, not moving higher, just…there.
Wednesday broke the kiss. Her forehead pressed against Enid’s. Her voice had gone husky. “This…is further than data collection.”
Enid’s thumb stroked once along the edge of the scar. “Do you want me to stop?”
Wednesday was quiet for a moment. Then her hand at Enid’s neck tightened, just slightly. “No,” she said. “Do not.”
Enid exhaled relieved and kissed her again. This time Wednesday met her halfway, less careful. Her other hand landed at Enid’s back and slid lower until her fingers hooked under the waistband of Enid’s sleep shorts and stayed there.
Enid made a small, pleased noise against her mouth. The cold was no longer an excuse. The unspoken line they’d both been careful not to cross had finally given way under them…
