Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fantasy Costco at 3 am is a nightmare.

Seriously, it’s straight from Hurley’s darkest fears. Only half of the lights are on, to conserve power, and some of them flicker eerily. Garfield the deals warlock is nowhere to be found.

She’s near delirious on cramp pain, and all she wants is a bag of delicious nacho cheese doritos.

It takes a while for her to find the section where the chips are. They’re buried in between singing yo-yos and an overflowing section of varying bloodstained battle axes. She scours the wall of chips, and for a moment she fears that there aren’t any left, but then she sees it: the single, lonesome, perfect bag of nacho cheese doritos.

She reaches out to take it and her hand crunches over the plastic - at the same time as another hand, delicate and slim. Hurley stares at the hand, attempting to process it with her limited mental capabilities. She follows it up to a thin wrist, a faded purple sleeve, up a long, graceful arm and over the shoulder and collarbone and neck. She follows it up to a beautiful face, and eyes that are staring straight back at Hurley.

Neither of them let go.

Hurley melts into those eyes.

The girl beside her sighs, rubs her temple with her free hands. The gaze, and the moment, break. Hurley bites her lip as the girl looks back at her.

“Okay, look,” she says, voice low and rough and grating with tiredness. “I am dead to the world and running on two hours of sleep in three days and I don’t care about anything anymore except getting these nacho cheese doritos.”

Hurley is taken aback for a moment, and all she can think to say is, “But I got here first,” in a whining voice.

The girl’s eyes soften, but she doesn’t let go. “We got here at the same time,” she says.

“But everything hurts,” Hurley says. She pouts, hoping puppy dog eyes could convince the pretty girl to give her this.

The girl takes a breath, shifts her long dark hair from her face. She pauses.

“Tell you what,” she says, words flowing like they’re spilling from a dam. “You beat me in a race, and I’ll split this half and half.”

In the distance, Hurley faintly hears a warbling voice shout delightedly: “OoOohh, it sOundS LIke wE hAve a dEAL!”

Hurley blinks blankly. “I can’t run right now,” she deadpans.

The girl chuckles, sending shivers through Hurley’s spine. “I wasn’t talking about running, sugar. Street racing.”

Hurley blinks, and the spark flies. It races like electricity through her veins, her bones, her lungs. She takes a breath and her eyes widen. The girl grins.

“OoOoh, sOUnds ilLEGaL!” a voice says, from much closer this time. “WAnt mE to juDGE?”

Hurley turns face to face with the hooded figure that is Garfield the deals warlock. She releases the bag of chips - a fatal mistake.

Suddenly, the woman is at Hurley’s side. She pecks Hurley on the cheek and then she’s running, shouting back:

“See me about that race sometime!”

“WHAT!?”

Chapter Text

Hurley is too tired to deal with this. Garfield is yelling in her ear about payment and she’s pissed. (Pissed but also very, very attracted). She slams some fantasy money into Garfield’s hand (paw?) and shuffles towards where she thinks the exit is. Everything is a little fuzzy until she gets outside and the cold night wind wakes her up a bit.

Her motorbike is gone.

In it’s place is a regular bicycle. There’s a note tied to the handlebar:

This’ll give me an excuse to see you again.

Love,

Sloane

In the distance, she hears a familiar rev and sees the tail end of the girl on her own motorbike.

Hurley screams.

Sloane laughs in exhilaration as she flees on her stolen bike, stolen chips in her hand. She pushes well past the speed limit - but who cares? No one’s around to see her. And even if they did, no one was fast enough to catch her -

Sloane is cut off by a bicycle crossing the street and she skids to a stop, just barely avoiding whoever it is. As she gasps, recovering, she looks up through the hair that has fallen in her face.

The halfling girl from earlier is getting off the bike. And she looks pissed.

Sloane is flabbergasted. She taps her foot on the gas lightly but doesn’t move yet.

“How the fuck did you catch me on that?” she asks.

“I saw - where you were going,” the girl gasps. “Took a - shortcut.”

Sloane leans forward and folds her arms on the handlebar of the bike. She grins as the girl stomps closer.

“Give me back my bike,” she growls.

“Why?” Sloane asks coyly.

She reddens slightly, but persists. “It’s MY bike.”

“I’ve taken a lot of things that weren’t mine. Tell you what. Trade me something for it.”

The girl crosses her arms. “I shouldn’t need to trade you anything for something that’s mine .”

Sloane blows a lock of hair away from her face. “If you give me something good enough, I’ll throw in the chips.”

“How are you this sentient on so little sleep,” she mumbles, but she’s thinking about it. Sloane waits patiently. For a moment.

“Tell you what,” Sloane says. “I have an idea. I’ll give you the goods - if you kiss me, and don’t back off before I do.”

The girl’s eyes about fall out of her head, they’re so wide. Her face goes full red - an adorable characteristic. A slow smile spreads across Sloane’s face and she closes her eyes, waiting.

“I hate you,” she mutters, but she sounds closer, and sure enough, Sloane can feel the soft breath on her face as the girl hesitates, the warmth radiating from her body. And then, she kisses her.

She’s uncertain at first, hesitant. But Sloane opens up for her, moves with her, and everything is slow and warm and wet and perfect. The girl is the first one to pull away, heated, pupils blown wide, and blushing like there’s no tomorrow.

“My name is Hurley,” she says.

Sloane smiles. She leans back and nods to the seat of the bike behind her.

Hurley gets on.

Chapter Text

They tumble into Sloane’s apartment. Sloane’s already got three hickeys on the back of her neck from the ride over, and Hurley’s lips are swollen from Sloane’s teeth. As Sloane drops her coat to the floor, Hurley reaches up for her and guides her back down to her mouth. Sloane kisses her for a moment, and then sucks Hurley’s bottom lip into her own mouth again and bites into it.

She really loves that biting thing.

So does Hurley. She barely refrains from moaning.

“Let me hear you,” Sloane whispers. The low vibrations rumble through Hurley’s core and she shivers. Sloane brings her hands up to Hurley’s jaw and cups her face, kissing her again. Hurley takes in a breath, rising up on her toes slightly as Sloane arches over her. She’s so fucking tall -

They’re moving. Suddenly they’re moving. Hurley steps back, stumbling a little, but in a moment she hits the wall. Hurley tilts her head back, opens her mouth and willingly lets Sloane explore her mouth.

It’s sloppy, and it’s wet, and so, so, so hot.

Sloane pulls back, lingering just long enough to suck Hurley’s lip with a pop, and then she fixes Hurley with dark, dark eyes. She glances down, back up, and then grins. She holds Hurley’s curious gaze as she leans down and takes the zipper to Hurley’s jacket in her teeth.

Hurley takes in a breath. Sloane carefully, oh so carefully, lowers herself and unzips the jacket. Once she’s at the bottom, she separates the last stretch with her hands and kisses Hurley’s stomach.

She rises back up and smiles. Hurley raises up on her toes and wraps her arms around Sloane. Their lips meet in one last heady rush before Sloane is pulling Hurley away and into her bedroom. Sloane hesitates for the barest moment before stripping her shirt and dropping it to the floor.

Hurley blushes and tries not to stare. She bites her lip, already swollen and over sensitive.

“Every time you do that I want to do it to,” Sloane says. Her voice is rough. Hurley shivers.

“Go ahead, then,” she challenges, smirking.

Sloane gasps and takes Hurley’s face in her hands again, kissing her deep and hard. She slips her hands under Hurley’s shirt and her fingers flutter over Hurley’s stomach. Hurley can’t hold in a laugh.

Sloane smiles with her, but she waits until Hurley meets her eyes again to speak. “Is this okay?” She asks,

“More than okay,” Hurley replies, breathless.

“Good,” Sloane replies, and she licks a warm strip up Hurley’s throat.

Hurley shudders and gasps. She tilts her head to the side, allowing Sloane to press slow, soft kisses to the sensitive skin there. Each one sends a spark straight through her and down to her very core. And then Sloane bites .

“Fffuuuck,” Hurley moans. Sloane chuckles again, and skims her hands alongside Hurley’s sides, tugging at her shirt. Hurley pulls away for a brief moment to struggle out of her shirt. While she does, Sloane rubs slow circles into her hips and Hurley shivers.

“Bed?” Hurley requests breathlessly.

“Bed,” Sloane agrees.