You fell first, I fell harder //Wenclair one-shots//

Summertime gay panic

A/N shout out to my best friend, amazing super cool talented writer who helped me write this. You know who you are @-prima-luce-

Prompt: Wednesday is scared to come out. Chaos unravels.

Wednesday sat on the porch, her typewriter balancing precariously on a stool in front of her. She was just about to begin chapter three of her new sequel, when the screen door slammed open, and a startlingly colorfully clad girl bounded over to her. Enid's usual pink and orange and blue attire was so loud and out of place on the grounds of the Addams family estate, and Wednesday couldn't help her eyes from being drawn to her everytime she walked into the room. Or in this case, onto the porch.

"Good morning Enid," she said, her tone as deadpan as ever.

"Morning!" Enid said, a giddy smile gracing her face. She'd been this excited every morning this summer, thrilled with the idea of spending the time with her girlfriend's family. She gave Wednesday a quick kiss, barely a brush of their lips together, before casting around a glance at the front yard, making sure no one had noticed.

Enid respected Wednesday's decision to stay closeted with her family. She had deduced in the last two weeks that Gomez and Morticia Addams were fairly traditional people, and it made sense that she would be worried about her parents accepting her.

That isn't to say Enid wasn't silently annoyed. Of course she wanted to respect her girlfriends wishes! But a selfish part of her desperately wanted to kiss her, without her eyes darting around the room, nervous that someone could have been eavesdropping or spying.

But of course, she couldn't tell Wednesday that.

"What are you writing about?" she asked, tilting her head forward to see the page. Wednesday placed two fingers on her girlfriend's forehead, pushing her away, just enough so she couldn't see the words on the parchment.

"Viper is in a dilemma of the mental kind, for once."

"Care to explain more?"

"Not particularly."

Enid sighed and sat back on her heels. Wednesday refocused herself on the keys. The blonde girl tried to note every detail of the brunette's face. The crease between her eyebrow that always materialized when she was working on a particularly difficult scene to write. A single eyelash that was curled down rather than up, for some inexplicable reason. A tiny flake of gray eyeshadow resting on her cheek. Slowly, she reached out to dust it off. But the brush of a touch got carried away, and soon Enid had the side of Wednesday's face cradled in her hand. Taking initiation, a rare thing for her, she pulled the other girl's face to hers and kissed her. A real, passionate kiss that seemed to drag on and on.

Without breaking contact, Enid removed her hands from Wednesday's face, grabbing the typewriter and moving it off to the side, before scrambling over the stool and sitting on her girlfriend's lap, wrapping her legs around her waist. She moved her lips slowly away from the other girl's, tracing kisses across her jawline, then slowly down to her neck.

"Enid," she whispered, a near inaudible sound, and the blonde moved her pattern, tracing back up to her lips again. She moved her hands down the sides of Wednesday's body, before they rested dangerously near the hem of her shirt. Almost casually, Enid took the fabric between her slender fingers, and the brunette shuddered when the blonde's cold hands made contact with her warm skin.

Enid hardly ever took the lead in these situations, so Wednesday was really too stunned to do much other than sit there and enjoy the feeling of small circles being traced across her stomach, or the way their lips fit so flawlessly together. The way Enid's hands moved further up until they brushed over her ribs, tracing each one with care. When Enid's fingers reached the edge of her bra she stopped, just resting there without moving.