“Get on my back.”

Darcy shuffled forward until the toes of her shoes disappeared under her.

“I don’t have cooties,” Luna added after a few seconds of her hesitation.

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

“I’m a lot of things, but dirty ain’t one of them,” Luna answered with obvious offence. “Dirty minded, maybe.”

“Not about the cooties,” she laughed. “Carrying me, I mean. I’m not as light as I look.”

“Don’t insult my muscles now, Darcy.”

“Sorry, muscles.”

Luna almost tipped herself onto all fours laughing at her. It really wasn’t that funny. She always seemed to find the things Darcy said and did a bit too hilarious.

Darcy gave in, not that she didn’t desperately want to be carried by her mate, but when it came to Luna, it was safer to err on the side of pessimism. Darcy rested her forearms on Luna’s shoulders and hopped up, wrapping her bare thighs around her waist. Squeezing her between them felt sinful. Darcy’s front pressed to her back wasn’t exactly a perfect fit, but it coated her in Luna’s warmth and scent all the same.

Luna popped up to straight legs and shifted her a little, a minor adjustment. A shiver ran through Darcy’s inner thighs.

Luna took off at a gentle jog at first, winding between the trees and pointing anything out that was particularly big or small or funny-looking. Darcy hummed agreement with all of her observations. She was paying attention to the tiny mushrooms and the tree carving that looked like a smiley face, of course. But maybe not quite as much attention as she was paying to the bunching of Luna’s back muscles under her very thin t-shirt. They moved against her like writhing snakes. It took every drop of willpower within her not to grind against them.

The further into the forest they delved, the more she allowed her chin to droop closer to the crook of Luna’s neck. Her unique scent was pulsing from it, and Darcy wanted it for perfume. The gentle summer breeze, combined with her jogging pace, was brushing it into her face pleasantly.

A tree wider than Darcy was tall appeared before them.

“Look how low those branches are!” Luna shouted. Darcy jerked upright to appraise the tree, roused by her noisiness. It was bushy and green and could probably house a whole army of squirrels. Darcy was unsure why the low branches were the high point for her mate. “Let’s climb it!”

Darcy’s stomach seemingly disappeared from her body. She did not do heights. Especially anything taller than her, and everything was taller than her.

“Wait, Luna-”

Luna was already bounding to the trunk. “You can see things from a whole new viewpoint, short-stack,” she said cheerfully. Oblivious to her terror. Luna grabbed the bottom branches and easily pulled off from the forest floor.

“No, L-Luna!” Darcy babbled. She dug her nails into her shoulders, scrabbling at her t-shirt. Luna had already propelled them up two rows of branches. “Stop! I don’t like heights!”

Luna slowed, but didn’t stop. They were easily fifteen feet up already. “You’re safe,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m not going to drop y-”

“Luna!”

Luna passed another two rings of branches easily.

“Just hold on to me-”

“Luna, I said no!” Darcy barked. Birds fluttered in trees nearby, uncertain whether to high-tail away from the loudly distressed omega.

Luna’s entire form froze. Darcy couldn’t tell if she was considering her words, but if she was, she didn’t have time for the delay. Darcy needed to get down, now. If she didn’t climb down, she’d faint and plummet to her death. That thought did not help the sickening feeling climbing through her body. Darcy unhooked her legs and swung them for the nearest branch below.

“Darcy, don’t!” Luna yelled.

Darcy released her shoulders to drop mid-swing.

The back of her dress was snatched before she could even attempt to grab the branch she had been aiming for. Luna yanked her in against her chest as she skidded down the trunk. Her feet were braced against it while her free hand grappled at any branch that passed them to slow their descent.

They landed on her feet, hard. Darcy dangled from her side.

Luna’s breaths were coming out as half-growls, huffing out of her chest. She lowered Darcy onto her own feet before turning to face her. Her eyes were wide and her lips trembling slightly.

“What were you thinking?” she choked out. “You could have gotten hurt! Or worse, fallen to your death!” Luna raked her hands through her stupid, perfect curls.

“I was scared!” Darcy snapped. Nausea bubbled within her, she needed to lie down. For just a moment up there she had truly thought she was going to die. Darcy managed to gasp out, “I told you I didn’t want to go up there.”

“And I told you to hang on! Why didn’t you listen to me?” she demanded, suddenly more angry than concerned. It rubbed Darcy even further up the wrong way, and she was upset with her already.

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” Darcy screeched in her face. She felt manic and disoriented, but she wasn’t going to let Luna steam roll her, not this time. “I told you no, and you climbed the tree anyway! You told me under the table that all I had to do was tell you if I didn’t like something. You have zero respect for me or my feelings. I was scared, Luna. Do you even know what that feels like? When was the last time you felt helpless?”

Luna’s eyes dropped and fixed to the ground. If Darcy didn’t know her so well, she could be fooled into thinking she was ashamed of herself. Her entire frame still had a slight tremble to it, but Darcy told herself it was simply adrenaline.

“You can’t remember?” she continued. “I’m not surprised. I can’t imagine it’s often you are forced into anything you don’t want to do.”

“’m s’rry.” A mumble, barely audible.

Darcy pretended not to have heard her. As shocked as she was to hear her say sorry. It didn’t count as a real apology. Luna was staring at her shoes and speaking at a volume only bats could hear.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Darcy huffed.

Luna half-raised her head. Enough to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for forcing me up the tree or sorry for lying the other day under the table?”

“I wasn’t lying!” she argued. “I do want you to tell me things straight if you don’t like them.”

Darcy rested her hands on her hips. “Me telling you doesn’t make you stop, though,” she countered furiously. “Your fun always comes before my feelings!”

“I was only playing around! I thought you were, too.”

Darcy stepped under her nose, pressing her chest to Luna’s stomach. “I am not your play-thing,” she seethed.

Luna’s eyes grew dark. Molten honey. Her expression clouded with hunger. “I want to play with you,” she admitted huskily.   

Darcy flushed. This woman could give her whiplash without her car. Luna’s face only had to drop a foot to reach hers, and it snatched her lips so fast she almost stumbled backwards. Her arms helpfully encircled Darcy’s lower back, pulling her in closer, up onto her tip-toes. Darcy's hands somehow found their way back to the shoulders she had clawed up moments before. Her legs curled around her. Darcy was the vine, she was the tree.

In between wet, open-mouth kisses she managed to pant, “I’m… still… mad at y-… you.” Luna sucked on her tongue and a moan slipped out.    

“Good,” she chuckled against her lips. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”