Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/535285.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Jane_Crocker/Roxy_Lalonde
  Character:
      Jane_Crocker, Roxy_Lalonde
  Additional Tags:
      Cotton_Candy, Oral_Sex, Femslash, Alcohol_Abuse/Alcoholism, Sleepovers
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-10-12 Words: 2568
****** Tech Support ******
by generictripe
Summary
     Your name is Roxy Lalonde and up until now your existence has been a
     never ending pattern of monotony.
Your name is Roxy Lalonde and up until now your existence has been a never
ending pattern of monotony. The same bitter tastes. The same slosh of a bottle
of alcohol as you sip. The same clumsy coding that makes you blush when you are
sober from the sheer terrible quality. The sameness sends you into eye drooping
drowsiness than prompts you to stay in your room for days. Just you,the
computer and a bottle of fancy liquor that your mother won't know is missing.
You are on one of your lonely binges when you meet her.
Her text color is the most eye searing thing you have ever seen. A terrible
blue. It is almost as bad as your bubble gum pink that you had so expertly
chosen. She is the first to type out something. Something about how she had
found your chumhandle on a site about technical help. Apparently something was
wrong with her hard drive and wanted your help. Fuck,even now you can hardly
remember it, the drink had hazed your mind so much at the time.
As well as someone can when they are drunk off their bony ass like you, you
help her through though the problem. Her lack of knowledge with the technical
aspects of computers is apparent. But ,she does seem to know enough about how
everything is organized. You are impressed by just that. She seems to get it
well and good and says her farewells with some sort of corny slang you were not
aware was still actually used. When she is gone ,you scratch you head for a
moment.
She contacts you four days later and your catch her name this time. Jane
Crocker. She tells you she works in some sort of cupcake store and that she
likes to bake. You both talk for a while. You tell her your own name. It turns
out she had read some of your mother's work. Your chest tightens as you type a
dizzy response. Brush it off with misspellings even though you are stone sober.
Soon your email is filled with baking recipes and magic tricks from
peppybeast@bettybother.com. She urges you to try them. You never do. However
,you do stare at them and wonder how this happened. Her hard drive had just
needed fixing. How did a simple tech support chat end up being a contract to
spend you days typing away at a girl half a thousand miles away?
You try to brush it off as 'broadening your horizons.' You consult Strider
about it once or twice. He seems rather detached about it. You guess he has his
own problems with that English guy. But he has never seemed like one willing to
chat idly. The chats get longer. You find out about her father and her home
life. In return ,you don't say much about your own. There is not much to hear
anyway.
It takes two months for her to show you her face. And holy fuck. When talking
to her you had pictured a sweet old grandmother with an apron and her hair tied
back. Instead much to you delight, you received a plump princess. Her curly
hair brushes closely to her ear and big red glasses sit on her upturned nose.
She wasn't gorgeous. No. Her eyes were to far apart and her lips were too big
for her face. But she was cute. She smiled wide over the webcam feed, showing
off teeth in deep need of braces.
"Rolal",Jane squeaks out,waving a hand. Before you can help it,your lips upturn
to match her's. In the back of your mind you thank any number of gods that you
had only drunk a little that day. You needed your wits about you. You had not
exactly told her of you 'drinking problem'. "Jaaaney,"you drag out the pet
name,"you never told me you were such a babe!" Oh. Even in the dim light of her
room,you can see a distinct blush rise to her cheeks.
You chuckle. "Golly...I'm sure that is just one of your silly faux
flirtations,"she says, composure slowly coming back. You shake your head, an
overly innocent expression in play. "Oh nooo. Really. Its like I'm talking to a
super model or something!" Soon a pattern is established. The talking. The
laughing. You two turn into regular gal pals. Nothing can separate you two for
a while.
Approximately six months from that tech support chat, she starts to like Mr.
English. It puts you off greatly. After all,he was Dirk's territory. You are
there when she cries ,breath coming in bursts over the phone receiver. You are
there when Jane ,exhilarated gets a job in a new bakery. No more making just
cupcakes for her! It is more than the English guy can say. You pray to a God
you don't believe in that she will forget him. You aren't sure why. Maybe it
was the way she bit her lip when English mentioned how good of a 'mate' she
was. It was hurting her. The words that Jane wanted to let spill out,they
wounded you.
"Janey.."you trail off. It is your seventeenth birthday and her voice is a
comfort over the telephone receiver. The bottle in your other hand is damp with
sweat,but you grip it like a lifeline. You had not seen you mother in over a
year. Book signing and tours always seemed to carry the elder Lalonde to the
farthest reaches. You can picture her chewing her bottom lip,searching for the
words to make it okay. "Roxy"she starts with your name,hushed and tender. Her
voice is full of affection,that you guess is of a sisterly nature.
"You never told me she ..just leaves",she says. You take a sip of the drink.
The burn of it is long gone. The words spill out and are admittingly a little
cheeky,"You neve...never asked." Jane is silent for a moment. "You make it so
difficult on purpose,don't you?" Your stomach drops. No. No! She is one of the
people that listen. "I'm s.ss sorry, Jane." The bottle slips from your fingers
and shatters on the floor. Vodka and glass sprinkle your bare feet and the hard
wood. But you pay it no mind. Your fingers are shaking as you grip the phone.
"I'm really r.really sorry! I'm trying. I'm-" She interrupts you. "Trying? I
know you are still drinking. You promised." Jane sounds so hurt. There is a
tremor in her soft voice that you had never heard before. But that tender edge
is still there. There is hope. All of a sudden you are thinking about how nice
it would be for her to hold you close,her soft fingers tangled in your hair.
You think Jane would smell of baking and warmth. Like an old fashioned kitchen.
"I love you,"you say it without slurring. It is the clearest thing you have
uttered in three hours.
There is a pause. "I love you to. You are my best friend," A shaky smile
brightens up your face but your heart plummets. Something in you is squirming
and you can't figure out why. It is the same thing that clawed at your insides
when she spoke of Jake. You had not been sure that you had really loved her
until that rainy drunken night. And it hurt so much.
It is in the winter six years after the meeting that you arrive on her
doorstep,luggage in tow and a grin on your face. You are older and not
especially wiser. The bony body of the years past has finally filled out. You
are quite proud of that fact and are dressed to show it.The baby fat has still
not left Ms. Crocker. Nor has she received any sort of correction on those
teeth. It is perfect. She is perfect.
That toothy grin breaks out over her face as she takes your appearance in. Jet-
lagged and sleepy-eyed, Jane is absolutely pleased as can be to see you.
Immediately you step forward and wrap thin arms around her. Burying a tired
face into her shoulder,you mutter, "Ah. You smell like food. Real food. Not
airplane shit." She giggles and it is that goofy sort of snorting laugh. "Oh
goodness! Is that all you have eaten? Blasphemy! Come inside. I have a turkey
in the oven!"
Before you can so much as blink,she has swept you into the pristine kitchen. A
plate of steaming food is set in front of you. It smells as close to Heaven as
anything could. It seems like ages since you had a proper home cooked meal. The
elder Lalonde,even when she is home is not one for making extravagant suppers.
Take out and TV dinners have been your staple meals since you can
remember,despite the Lalondes' apparent wealth.
You shove as much as you can into your mouth. Fuuuuck It is as tasty as it
smells. If it was possible you could have blew your lady load right then and
there from the pure party in your mouth that is Jane Crocker's cooking. She
makes a face from the seat across from you. It must have been some sight to
watch you eat like this. You finish with a huge gulp.
Following her into her room ,you pass by her father. He is looking suave and
sexy in his dress shirt and tie. You try not to think about him too much. This
was all about Jane. Just Jane. Oh damn! Her room was the cutest! Crisp pale
blue curtains hung ,swaying ever so slightly in the breeze. A carefully made
quilt adorned her white canopy bed. All around the room,little trinkets stood.
Various glass animals sat looking sad on her dresser. It was a room fit for a
princess,not a bakery worker.
"Daaaamn,Janey. You have a bitching room." A look of terror crosses her face
,as she rushes up to you. "Roxy! Hush! If you are going to swear,don't be so
loud!" You press your hand to your mouth,with a look of mock fear. "Sorry! It
just slipped out,"your voice comes out all muffled. Rolling her eyes at
you,Jane sits down on her bed. It creaks ominously,but stays in one piece. It
must be old. You take a seat next to her. "Wow. You live in such a nice house!"
She grins once again. "Not really." she says,"it is just a basic suburban
American home." You shake your head quickly, the flip in you hair swaying.
"Noooo. Its great! So warm and neat! And it smells like food." Jane laughs,her
nose crinkling up. Fuuuck. That is cute. Before you can think you are pressing
your lips to her's. There is a moment of silence as you pull back. Shit. Shit.
Shit. What did you just do? Jane's eyes are as round as saucers as she stares
at you. "Jane. I..I..I," you stutter on the words.
Maybe you should just tell her you are drunk. Maybe you sho-This time her lips
are on your's. They are so gentle and soft and oh..oh God. Your hands grip at
her hips,bringing Jane closer. Everything is so warm,like you swallowed a star.
She pulls back,resting her forehead on your's. Her breath comes out in feverish
pants,mirroring your own.
Then with a barely suppressed moan,she is on you again. Her hands travel
underneath your shirt. Trailing upwards and upwards. And oh.. oh... You bite
down a groan as Jane grips at your breasts,lightly trailing a finger around
your nipples. Desire and lust shines in her bright cyan eyes as she leans back
to look at you. "Roxy? Is this...is this okay." She chews on her plump bottom
lip,waiting so nervously for your to answer. "Oh Fu..fuck Jane! Of course,"you
stammer out, her hands still on your chest.
A grin spreads slowly across her face,as she dives back in. In a flash,your
shirt is discarded. You fumble with shaky fingers at the buttons of her prim
blouse. Jane pushes your hands away and does it for you. The top slips slowly
as if it is enjoying your impatience. Lazily almost,you reach to cup the back
of her neck. The sunlight peaks from behind the sheer curtains,lighting up her
face. A halo of golden light encircles her face,playing with the brown
highlights in her dark hair.
You two pause for another moment to gaze at each other. Blush creeps up to her
cheeks, as she obviously realized that you are on top of each other in your
bras and skirts. Jane looks away,busying herself with adjusting her lacy bra
strap. "Jane,"you whisper. Her eyes snap up to meet yours, and she laces her
fingers in your's. You use your free hand to pull her closer,unclasping the
back of bra. It falls off and Jane throws it to the side. Your's is gone soon
too.
Somewhere in the de-clothing tussle, Jane's hand has found it's way to your
newly exposed slit. You gasp and arch your back as electricity zaps through
your body. In return you give Jane a nibble on her lower lip,clutching at her
bare back. Your nails leave streaks up her back as she trails kisses down from
your lips to your neck. Gently and almost hesitant,you feel her push a finger
inside of you. In. Out. In. Out. Jane pumps inside of you, her face flushed and
eyes glazed over.
Your eyes are closed. It feels so good, as your toes curl in. Then you feel a
tentative touch. Opening your eyes,you see Jane looking up at you from between
your legs,waiting for an affirmation. You nod and she slips her tongue ever so
gently over your nub. It is so warm and hot and you can feel her shaky breath
all over your exposed pussy. A shuddering moan escapes you and you press a hand
to your mouth.
Electrifying tingles jolt up your spine. You arch again as Jane's tongue
brushes as especially sensitive spot. "J..Jane. Oh FUCK,"you gasp out from
behind your hand. A low keening sound comes from deep in Jane's throat. Damn.
You are glad she is enjoying herself because you sure as Hell are. Your hand
have found it's way wound into Jane's dark hair. She sucked lightly and pulled
away from your pussy with a 'pop'. Her tongue is hot and moist on you and so
slow.
"Jane, I..I''m.' With a groan suppressed by your hand,you cum hard. Your entire
body vibrates with pleasure as your grip her hair. Without meaning to,you buck
a few times against her face. But Jane soldiers on,her mouth working at your
needy pussy. A minute later,you collapse back onto the pillows. She crawls back
over you to lay,breathing hard. Nestling into your chest ,Jane's hair tickles
your nose. Finally you speak. "Woooow! What was that? Miss Perfect gives the
best muff dives?" Jane chuckles lightly. "Miss Lalonde. You better be prepared
to return the favor after dinner tonight!" And you are okay with that.
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