# In The Closet

Title: In The Closet
Status: Complete
Characters: Trish, Naomi
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: Anonymous
Summary: Trish spends some quality time with a very special someone.
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Naomi flipped a stray strand of blond hair out of her face, sending a sharp exhale through clenched teeth for good measure. What the fuck was she doing up here, anyways? Wasting her time here on the second floor of the school, meeting up with that… that bitch, Trish. And why all the secrecy? ‘Come to the second floor janitor’s closet, I’ve got something to tell you.’ Naomi rolled her eyes at the memory of Trish’s stoner friend Reed handing her the note. As if that little trigga cunt had anything to say to someone like her. Hadn’t Trish learned, like the rest of those freaks, to stay out of her way?
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Sneering, Naomi scanned the hall, search for the location of her and Trish’s secret meet-up. She was glad to be away from other students for once, glad to drop the saccharine act of ‘little miss perfect’ she had forced herself to adopt. She had learned early on it was easier to manipulate people when they didn’t see you as a threat, and a sugary voice and kind smile went a long way in dissuading people from her true nature. But fuck what these people thought of her, anyways. Soon, Naomi was going to graduate, and at the top of her class as well. Coupled with her family’s connections and her volunteer, she was all but guaranteed a spot at any university she could want. Naomi allowed herself a brief smile at that thought. Any school she wanted, as far away from the scum she was going to meet.
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The janitor’s closet ended up being at the end of the school’s north wing, isolated from any other classroom by a series of restrooms. Trish better have a good excuse for making her come all the way up here… Sighing, Naomi once more spread her familiar façade across her face, screwing her mouth in a big smile. God, she hated doing this. Trying the handle, Naomi found the door unlocked, pushing it open as she took a cautious step inside.
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“Trish? You wanted to meet with me?” She cried, pitching her voice up an octave like she always did when around other people. Squinting, Naomi tried to make out Trish amidst the gloom. It wasn’t really a closet, so to speak: More of a storage unit, filled with various janitorial implements and metal shelves. Trish had probably chosen this place for their meeting in order to prepare for her future career. The closet was large enough that Naomi could take another step inside, straining eyes still adjusting to the darkness for any sight of Trish. “Seriously, Trish, if you’re here, stop wasting my time and just talk to me!” With a final step inside, Naomi wanted for a response, any response, before heaving a disgusted sigh. What a waste of…
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“Nice of you to show up, Naomi.”
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With a start, Naomi jumped around, searching for the source of that voice. There, behind the door! Trish was small enough that she fit comfortably behind it, bearing a stupid smirk as she slowly shut the door with a creak. God, how Naomi longed to wipe that smug fucking look of her face…
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“Trish, what is this?! You know you shouldn’t be in here. I don’t want to tell Spears about this but-“
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“Shut the fuck up, you fucking fake bitch.”
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Naomi’s mouth snapped shut, almost against her will. Trish’s voice had an… edge to it, a dangerous quality that Naomi hadn’t heard before. For the first time, she noticed Trish’s hands buried in the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie. Was she hiding something in there?
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Trish took another step closer, and reflexively Naomi backed up, heels skidding over the tile of the closet. “It’s my turn to talk, and your turn to listen. Did you really think no one was going to find out about you, about your little act?”
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“Trish, I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Naomi couldn’t keep the quiver out of her voice. How much did Trish know?!
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“Oh, you don’t? You want to keep playing this little game of pretend then, huh?” Naomi’s back hit something hard, metallic; Trish had backed her up into one of the shelves, cornering her in the small space. And Trish was getting closer still, grinning smugly up at her as she took another step forward. “Naomi, I wonder how long you’ve been playing this little game of yours. Oh, you’ve got your perfect little boyfriend, with your perfect little grades and your perfect little plan. You probably never expected anyone to find out, huh?”
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“T-Trish, I can explain, it’s not what you think!” Naomi’s voice climbed another octave, fueled not by insincerity, but by fear. Trish was right on top of her now, the triceratops’ lack of height putting Naomi’s face dangerously close to those horns.
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“How do you know what I think?!” Trish’s outburst shut Naomi up in an instant. Her hands were out of her pocket now, balled into tiny purple fists at Trish’s side. “You just play your little game, and don’t care about the people you hurt!” Naomi could only watch as Trish stood there, the tiny triceratops’ chest heaving with anger. Would anyone even hear her if she cried for help? “Well, now it’s time for you to get what’s coming to you.” Trish’s hands shot out, grabbing fistfuls of Naomi’s hair and pulling her down, hard.
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“Trish, wait, don’t-“
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Naomi’s frantic cries were cut off as Trish yanked her head down until they were face-to-face, cut off as the tiny tricera-terror sealed their mouths together with a kiss. Caught utterly off-guard, Naomi’s eye grew wide as she felt Trish’s tongue lick the inside of her lips, felt Trish’s hands gently stroke either side of her face, felt Trish’s breasts pressed against her own…
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And just like that, it was done. Trish pulled had hands back, a single strand of spit linking their mouths together for a moment before spilling onto Naomi’s blouse. No longer supported, Naomi collapsed to her knees in front of her sexual assailant, her legs too weak to support her anymore. Naomi’s façade had utterly collapsed, all thoughts of anger or revenge destroyed by the little purple woman standing in front of her, blushing.
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How had Trish found out about the real her?