Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/849373.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Le_Fantôme_de_l'Opéra_|_Phantom_of_the_Opera_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Christine_Daaé/Meg_Giry
  Character:
      Christine_Daaé, Meg_Giry
  Additional Tags:
      technically_underage_because_meg_is_15, this_is_basically_just_smut, Plot
      What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Tribadism
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-06-19 Words: 720
****** Really, You Were Perfect ******
by provocation
Summary
     Christine hadn't predicted exactly how much the secrecy necessary for
     their relationship would turn Meg on.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
"Maman can never find out," Meg says, her voice breathy as she nervously
laughs. In the darkness of the room, Christine can just barely trace with her
eyes the dim shape of the girl's long blonde hair, spread out over the
threadbare pillows. It takes a moment for her to realize who her friend is
referring to; ah, yes, Madame Giry.
"She never will," Christine promises, and presses a kiss to Meg's collarbone.
Meg arches up into her, her whole body convulsing with the motion. For a
dancer, Christine would have expected Meg's movements to be fluid and agile
while doing this. Instead, the blonde girl is almost trembling with
anticipation and a sort of electricity that Christine can feel running through
her friend's collarbone into her lips and nerves.
"I'd get in so much trouble, Christine," she chatters on, apparently unable to
focus without talking incessantly even now. "She'd punish me awfully. She's
already so strict with me, you see, and if she found out I was-- that I was--"
"That you were making love to another girl?" Christine whispers hoarsely, and
Meg's entire body quivers as she lets out a soft gasp too quiet to be heard in
any other setting. Christine slides a leg in-between Meg's thighs, and hikes up
the dancer's skirts around her waist. The girl adjusts her legs obediently,
letting Christine straddle her thigh. Once she's firmly situated atop her leg,
she thrusts forwards with her hips, causing a small cry from Meg. She
continues. "And not even another ballet dancer, a singer? The leading
soprano of the Opera Populaire?"
Meg's breathing has become heavier and harder, and nimble fingers skitter down
between them as Meg attempts to stroke at herself. Christine continues, voice
growing dark and bordering on dangerous. "Your mother would probably ground you
for weeks, Meg. You'd be locked up in your room, all alone, not allowed to see
anyone. Except I know my way around this theatre, and I do believe I know a way
to sneak into your dressing room."
Meg lets out a completely incoherent noise, and for a moment speech is
postponed in favor of adjusting themselves for greater friction. They strip
themselves of their undergarments, and then toss them aside, neither of them
having the willpower to take the time to undo their extensive skirts and
corsets.
Christine moves so that her legs are completely perpendicular to Meg's, and
she's directly straddling the girl, so there is nothing between them now. Meg
reaches up with the hand she'd just been touching herself with to grab
Christine's hair and pull her closer, and oh, God, Christine thinks, Meg has no
idea what she's doing to her by running her dirty fingers through her blonde
hair and pulling them together.
Christine leans back (Meg was always the more flexible of the two of them, but
she can at least do this) and rolls her hips against Meg's, and she can feel
how wet Meg is under her. Shuddering and nearly shaking, Meg's hands fall from
Christine's hair and claw along her arms, leaving white marks that will fade
shortly. Christine doesn't even feel them; she smiles at Meg mischievously and
then gasps out, "And once I'm in your dressing room, and your mother thinks
you're alone, do you know what I'm going to do to you, Meg? I'm going to fuck
you into the bed so hard you nearly scream."
Meg does nearly scream, and Christine can sense how close she is, so she stops
talking and forces all her effort towards helping Meg finish. When she does,
Christine does shortly afterwards-- Meg's eyes rolling back in her head before
her lashes flutter closed and her whispering Christine's name in reverence is
altogether too much for the singer.
They keep moving for a few seconds, blending themselves together, and then
Christine smiles benevolently, reaching over to the bedside table to grab a
small towel. Meg stays her hand, shaky fingers wrapped around her wrist with
eyes still closed. She opens her eyes, and Christine is pinned down under the
force of her gaze.
"We're not done yet," Meg says, and it may have been intended to sound like an
order but instead it sounds like a plea, a playful question. Christine grins,
and leans down to kiss Meg.
End Notes
     this is my first attempt at a POTO fic, and my second attempt ever at
     lesbian smut. please tell me what you thought! feedback'd be
     marvelous.
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