Study Dummies

Eliza and Whitney had agreed to this study months ago, two roommates who never thought twice about signing a form. Eliza still thinks it's just questionnaires and some checks, maybe a blood draw. Whitney knows better now—she's watching the door like it's about to bite. Casey walks in carrying a clipboard, glances at them once, twice. Then she asks if they're lesbians. The question lands flat between the three of them. Eliza laughs at first, uncertain. Whitney's face goes still. Casey explains the entire study is about same-sex couples only. No couple, no data. No data, no study. Whitney's about to speak when Eliza grabs her wrist under the table and squeezes. Not leaving. Not losing this. "We're together," Eliza says. Casey tilts her head. She doesn't buy it. So they kiss. The first try is clumsy, all lips and elbows, both women unsure where to put their hands. The second is slower. They lean closer. Whitney parts her lips. Eliza tastes her roommate, feels the hesitation melt. A third kiss and the air shifts. Whitney's breath comes shorter. Eliza slides a hand up the side of her neck, thumb pressing behind her ear. Casey turns a page and writes something. Eliza pushes in. The couch dips under their weight. Whitney's fingers slip under the hem of her shirt. The kiss deepens until neither pretends this is still for Casey. Tongues brush. Teeth graze a bottom lip. Little sounds neither expected leave their throats. Whitney's thighs part. Eliza settles between them, knees digging into cushions. Casey's pen keeps moving. Eliza opens her mouth over Whitney's collarbone, licks a slow line. Whitney arches, breath catching. Casey's chair creaks once, then stillness. The air thickens with heat and the soft, wet sound of mouths finding new skin. Neither roommate speaks. They only press closer, hips tilting, hands wandering, the study forgotten except for the doctor watching every move.