Interlewd Five

Interlewd Five

Delilah was somewhere approaching exhausted when she arrived at… home?

She wasn’t sure if the place was home yet.

She flew the Fury around the building a couple of times, idly watching the fading sunlight play across the silvery cat sitting atop the skyscraper. It was… extremely gaudy. Cheesy, even. But also very Cat, and very samurai.

Most corps shied away from anything this overt. That was asking for trouble. Cat didn’t seem to even have a second to spare to wonder about her appearance when it came to this kind of thing. Which was one of the big reasons why Delilah… Gomorrah, chose to make this place her home.

It was an overt declaration. ‘A samurai lives here. Don’t mess with it.’ And she liked that.

Driving the Fury around, she slid into the parking garage and into her slot. Soon she’d have a parking spot for the Fury in her part of the building, but for now this place was private and secure enough.

She wasn’t impressed with Cat’s security so far. It was lackadaisical. Some turrets tucked away on the outside of the building, none hard enough to break through the armour of a flying APC. It was enough to deter civilians, maybe, but that was it. She was working on upgrades, which started with the suite of flamethrowers tucked into the roof of the elevators. Anyone riding it with ill intent would reach their destined floor as char.

She’d be adding more, of course. Scanners, and security drones on patrol routes. Some flamer turrets here and there. Maybe some missile pods hidden in the walls able to fire out of the building?

She didn’t plan on turning it into a fortress… just a place that would be so costly to attack that it wasn’t worth it.

Her home, when it became home, would be safe. For her, and for…

For Franny.

Delilah swallowed. She’d gone a whole ten minutes without thinking of Franny. Almost a record.

She had no idea what Franny was to her at the moment. A girlfriend? Maybe? She hoped.

They certainly kissed like girlfriends did.

They were getting better at it. No more clicking teeth together, no more bruised noses. Though… the fumbling early stuff had been nice too, in a way. Inexperience and awkwardness all led to something that was as funny as it was… hot.

Delilah found herself licking her lips. She wanted that taste again.

Franny liked a particular brand of lip balm. It was minty.

Delilah wasn’t a big fan of mint anything. From cookies to toothpaste, she found the taste too strong.

She loved it on Franny’s lips.

The elevator opened so suddenly that Delilah jumped a little. Atyacus sent her augs a silent report from the house. There wasn’t much to report, really. Everything was still under construction.

She stepped out and took it all in. More walls had been added, but they were unpainted and rough still. The construction drones were deeper in, moving at a snail’s pace as they lifted a precut piece of metal and then bolted it into place on some framing.

Her home wouldn’t have anything flammable in it. That meant metal walls and tile floors. It would be tricky to decorate, but that would come in time.

“Oh.”

Delilah turned, then paused to take in Franny. She was standing there, out of her habit. Instead, Franny was in tattered, very tight jeans, with a belt that looked like it had little bullet casings all around it. Her shirt was a size too small. Maybe two, judging by the amount of stomach it left exposed, and the way it clung around her chest.

“Hi,” Delilah said as her brain engaged. She blinked as she finally noticed Franny’s hair. Or one lock of it, in any case. It was a bright, almost neon blue. It clashed hard with Franny’s natural, orange-y hair.

“Welcome home,” Franny said with a grin. She was blushing a little. It was always very obvious with her, her skin was too pale to hide it, and her freckles stood out whenever that line of red blossomed across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah,” Delilah said. “It’s nice to be back. Did… did you need a ride back, or something?”

It was getting kind of late. Delilah wouldn’t mind driving Franny back though.

“I thought I’d stay the night,” Franny said.

“Oh,” Delilah replied. She could feel the blood rushing up to her face, but she willed it away. “Is the guest bedroom done?”

“No,” Franny said matter-of-factly.

Delilah started jumping to conclusions. “Oh,” she repeated. Then she cleared her throat and pushed on. This wasn’t the first time she was tongue-tied, but it used to be a rare occurrence. She’d always prided herself on having a good demeanour, on being stable and level-headed. Recently, that had been harder, and not because she was frequently facing off against hordes of ravenous aliens.

It was her ravenous maybe-probably-girlfriend that was a bigger threat in Delilah’s mind.

“I’m starving,” Delilah said. “Do you want to order something?”

“Yeah, sure!” Franny said. “The kitchen’s not ready, but there’s an island to eat at, and I found a couple of stools we can use.”

“Alright,” Delilah said.

So they ambled over to the kitchen while Franny talked about food. Delilah only glanced down at Franny’s rear once. A quick peek which still made her feel impossibly guilty. It was wrong. She needed to have better control over herself.

They ordered from a place nearby, just a building over, in fact, and Delilah abused her control over the few drones she had on security duty to have one waiting in the parking garage for the food.

By the time they were sitting next to each other in the barren kitchen, the food was already being cooked up in some little kitchen somewhere.

They started talking about furniture. “We’ll have to decide what you want to buy for points, and what we’ll buy for credits,” Franny said.

“It feels almost sacrilegious to spend points on something like a couch,” Delilah said, and she was happy to see Franny nodding.

“Yeah. Probably ninety-nine percent buy the old fashioned way. We need a fridge, some cabinets, couches, seats.” Franny patted the stool between her legs. She always sat inappropriately, knees apart. It was distracting.

“I think we can manage that,” Delilah said.

“But some things we should get protector-made,” Franny said.

“The doors,” Delilah replied instantly. “I want them to be safe.”

“And the bed.”

Delilah felt her mind hitch, but she didn’t let it show.

The bed.

Singular.

As in only one of them.

“Ah, yeah,” Delilah said. So far she’d been sleeping in a small blow-up mattress she’d grabbed from the convent. It was easy to set up, and durable. She didn’t need luxury. “The bed,” she said.

I have several beds I could supply. Based on the dimensions of your room, I think I could easily fit one that you and Franny would find comfortable. Sleep is important.

She swallowed again. “Maybe later.”

Franny gave her a look. “Maybe later,” she said.

Food arrived, and Delilah delighted in being distracted by some extremely fatty poutine with smoked meat while Franny chewed through a salad and occasionally stole a forkful of Delilah’s meal.

They talked, about not much at all, and soon Delilah realized that she didn’t own a trash can either.

“Want to see about the bed while I get freshened up?” Franny asked. She was trying to sound casual. Delilah had lived most of her life near Franny, she could tell. Her friend was nervous about something.

“Yeah,” Delilah said.

Franny came closer, leaning in towards Delilah. Delilah leaned in too, and they kissed. It was surprisingly chaste.

She watched Franny go, and participated in a little bit of sin as her eyes wandered down before she could snap them up.

They had… rules.

Delilah, in a fit of what was possibly divine inspiration or insanity, had told Franny that Franny was in charge. She’d dropped the reins of whatever power they had in their relationship by Franny’s feet, and decided that that was… that.

The memory of what she’d done, in their old classroom, no less, was seared into her mind to this day, and would likely stay there until she died as either one of the most… arousing or embarrassing moments of her life. Maybe both.

Franny had decided to use that right that Delilah had given her. It happened in Burlington, a few awkward days later. After some kissing, Franny had demanded

to know what Delilah’s limits were.

The idea didn’t seem like one that came from Franny. Delilah suspected Lucy was to blame, but… she wasn’t all that disappointed by it.

Franny had Delilah’s permission to do whatever she wanted with Delilah, and the first thing she did with that was ask Delilah what her limits were.

It was extremely sweet.

Delilah had to think on it, but she’d eventually drawn a line, and it was a hard one to follow.

She didn’t want sex.

Actually, no, that was an awful lie. Delilah wanted sex a lot, with Franny, at a frequency that was likely unhealthy. What she meant was she didn’t want… intercourse? Penetration? She didn’t want to spoil herself, not before marriage.

It was stupid, and antiquated, and even a little haughty. Delilah was terrified that Franny would laugh at her, or push past that line (and Delilah would fold, because she’d given Franny that right, and she wanted it as much as she didn’t), but Franny had been beautiful.

They hadn’t pushed things since.

Oh, there was lots of kissing.

Very nice kissing.

Some hugging. A few… many moments where hands wandered. Franny seemed to really enjoy Delilah’s breasts, which Delilah enjoyed the enjoying of.

Delilah snapped out of her state of wasteful pining and followed after Franny, who was already far ahead. She found the redhead in the bedroom, folding the blow-up mattress up into its little box. The main floor space was clear and empty. “I made room for the bed,” Franny said. “Well, more room, there’s only a chair, really.”

Delilah nodded, then paused. There was a chair. A nice, plush one that she didn’t recognize at all. “Where did you get that?”

“It was in the building already,” Franny said. “I think it was in some C-suite office? It’s kinda heavy, but nice. I washed it off, so it’s fine.”

It was a nice chair, a bit modern, all leather. She didn’t know if it fit, but she didn’t complain, not when it accounted for… almost one hundred percent of her furniture at the moment.

“Right, a bed,” Delilah said.

She started to subvocalize with Atyacus. A bed wouldn’t come in a box, she hoped. The AI was usually good at pointing her towards what she needed, but he also tried to upsell her often. In this case, she wasn’t sure she needed a self-heating and cooling bed… until she started to think about it.

A warming bed would mean that she couldn’t naturally gravitate towards the nearest source of warmth, who might also be occupying the bed.

That would be nice, actually. And blankets. Two sets.

It didn’t take long before the order was up, and she asked Franny to step aside even if she was in the clear.

With a thump, a bed appeared. It was done up with blankets already. Black and white, with a faint flame pattern embroidered into them. A bit… on the nose, but not too badly so. It was large too. King-sized, or something close to that. Its footprint was almost as large as her car’s.

“Nice!” Franny said. She hopped up, knees first onto the bed, then bounced onto it, rolling onto her back with a laugh. “Oh, it’s sinky.”

“It can harden,” Delilah said. “Or… change consistencies, I suppose. So you don’t move as much as you sleep. And it stays warm or cool.”

“That’s interesting,” Franny said. “I’d never really thought about… bed technology, before.” She reached towards the pillows, grabbing one and hugging it even as she sat up. There were two small thuds as she kicked her shoes off over the side.

Franny eyed Delilah.

Delilah stared back.

Then Franny smiled. “Sit,” she said.

***

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep