No one really questions it when Cam and Erica do a press tour together after winning the Cup. Sure, they get the usual remarks implying they're lesbians, but no one out and says it to their faces.

And that's good, Cam thinks, because they're not. Cam only started part of the playoffs by virtue of a fluke, really. There are a few female goalies in various teams' systems now, but Cam was one of the first after Manon Rhéaume to make it to the big show, and she's become at least a temporary starter from the sheer dumb luck of playing lights-out when Gerber couldn't do it. Erica will insist, if she mentions it, that it was luck to be put in and Cam's skill that kept her there, but Cam's a little more of a cynic about it.

That's not the point, though. The point is, they're not lesbians. Separately, maybe - Cam knows Erica's also into woman but they've never discussed particulars - but not together. Erica's so young, anyway, younger even than Cam and twice as hot-headed, even if she does have a lid on it for the most part these days. Cam sticks to picking up girls at bars and tells herself that she sees Erica as a sister. So the questions don't matter, she reminds herself, because there's nothing there but the normal closeness you get from being teammates, plus the bond of being the only women on the Hurricanes.

It's really important to keep thinking of that, because the thing is, they're flying back to Carolina post-press circuit, where they'll have a couple days before flying home, and Erica's plastered herself to Cam on the plane ride back despite the fact that she's still in a really hot dress from the last interview they did.

Cam kind of hates her life. Also, she's way too turned on considering that she keeps reminding herself that she and Erica are teammates and might as well be sisters.

It's almost midnight when they touch down in Raleigh. Erica yawns and stretches, squinting at Cam. "Hey," she says, smiling.

Cam looks away and swallows around the stupid shit she wants to say. "Hey."

"You should come back to my place," Erica says without preamble. "We can have a couple beers, celebrate."

"Some of us didn't sleep on the plane, Staal."

"Some of us should have so we wouldn't be so cranky, Ward." But Erica's grinning. "Come on. Just come with me."

And isn't that the kind of invitation it would be nice to read into. "Sure," Cam says. She stands and stretches before grabbing her luggage. "Let's go, then."

The taxi ride from RDU to Erica's too-big house is pretty quick. Erica decides to slump against the window this time, head tilted so she's looking up at the sky. It's a pretty ridiculous position for someone as tall as she is, but it also means the long line of her neck is right there. Cam clenches her hand around her knee, forcing herself to look away.

"Okay," Erica says when they get inside. "I need to be wearing fewer sequins. You need anything?"

Cam hefts her rolling bag. "I'll handle it."

"Sure," Erica says, and goes upstairs. Cam changes in the downstairs bathroom and then goes into the living room for two beers, setting the free one down on the coffee table and taking a long drink of hers.

It's ridiculous to feel nervous. She's seen Erica naked tons of times, for God's sake. And if they were going to do anything stupid, they would've done it already, when they'd just won the Cup and Erica was yelling in Cam's ear and hanging all over her.

So much of Cam's life would be simpler if Erica wasn't a touchy drunk.

Erica comes down in sweatpants and a tank top. She looks better in that than she did in the slinky dress, really; her rangy, whipcord arm and shoulder muscles are obvious, and a bit of her stomach peeks out of the gap between the tank top and the sweatpants. Cam just barely manages not to really obviously check her out, but Erica doesn't seem to notice. She smiles at Cam and says, "Thanks," sitting down and taking the beer.

They turn ESPN on but don't really watch it, even though ESPN does mention them in the offhand, two-seconds-of-air-time way hockey normally gets coverage. Erica's slumped back into the couch, eyes closed as she sips the beer; occasionally she'll reach up and rub her shoulder.

"If you didn't sleep like an idiot, you wouldn't hurt your shoulder," Cam points out, finishing off her beer.

Erica finishes hers, too. "We can't all sleep like weird, chiropractor-adjusted vampires." She lifts her empty beer towards Cam, who rolls her eyes and grabs it, going out into the kitchen.

When she gets back with a second set, Erica's still rubbing her shoulder. The nice, platonic thing to do would be to offer to rub it; it's not like they haven't done that before. But instead Cam just wordlessly hands Erica her beer.

"The whole press tour went well, I think," Erica says when they've made it halfway through their second beers.

"Yeah," Cam says. "You stole the show."

Erica snorts. "While you just sat there being everyone's mysterious femme fatale wet dream."

Cam blinks, and Erica reddens. Thank God Cam doesn't blush like a blonde, she thinks as Erica's blush disappears into her tank top.

"Right," Cam says. "Well. We both did well. And we represented the team well, which is the important thing."

"Right," Erica says quickly. "We were ambassadors of hockey and the Hurricanes, like we were supposed to be."

If they keep this up they're going to be parroting platitudes about giving 110%. Cam finishes her second beer in one long gulp and says, "Shots."

"Oh," Erica says happily. "Okay."

Cam thinks about Erica's stories about drinking with her brothers and snorts. When she gets back, it's with a bottle of Patron and two double shot glasses.

"Wow," Erica says.

"Hey," Cam says, "we won the Cup. Go big or go the fuck home."

"I'm not arguing," Erica says. She lifts a shot glass after Cam fills them both, toasting Cam. "To us."

"To the Canes," Cam agrees, tossing hers back.

When she looks back at Erica, Erica's sucking some tequila off her thumb and looking at Cam speculatively. Cam opens her mouth to say - she has no idea, because Erica's wide mouth is red and shiny and that's all she can think about. But she's going to say something when Erica says, "Can you rub my shoulder?"

There's no way that should sound like innuendo. "Sure," Cam says. She's not surprised when her voice comes out a little rough. "Turn around."

Erica does, and scoots closer to Cam, until Cam can feel the warmth of her and see the light sheen of sweat along the back of Erica's neck. She lifts Erica's braid - Cam wears her hair short, but Erica claims she likes having nicer hair than her brothers - and puts it over Erica's shoulder, digging her thumbs into Erica's shoulders, cupping them firmly so Erica won't squirm.

Erica's always been noisy during massages, but now she's doubly so. She groans and pushes back into Cam's hands, going boneless as Cam keeps massaging her.

And, God, it's the booze plus the constantly-resurging adrenalin of the past couple weeks, Cam knows it, but that doesn't stop her from wanting Erica so much that her breath keeps catching a little, and she has to force herself not to linger when she finishes. "You're good," she says finally, taking her hands away.

"Thanks," Erica says, twisting around so they're facing each other. She flips her braid back over her shoulder, smiling at Cam, and Cam -

Makes a series of very stupid decisions by reaching out, cupping the back of Erica's neck, and pulling her in to kiss her.

Cam's the more flexible of the two of them, but that matters a lot less when Erica's kissing back eagerly and wrapping her legs around Cam, going down on her back and pulling Cam with her. Cam's head is spinning and she knows it's not from the little booze they drank; it's all Erica, her smell and her skin under Cam's hands, the way she's wiggling and arching her back as they make out.

This is so, so stupid, but that doesn't stop Cam from kissing Erica's neck and pressing a leg between Erica's, moving back up when Erica moans and kissing her again. Cam does actually have finesse, it's just that none of it is on display here. Then again, Erica's dragging her nails down Cam's back and urging her on with all these noises Cam's never heard from her before, so maybe Cam's not the only one who's really into this.

They slow down after awhile, getting less desperate. Cam thinks they might take this to bed when Erica moves a little and then says, "Ow," against Cam's mouth.

Cam pulls back right away. Erica smiles ruefully and says, "My bad," sitting up and pulling the remote out from behind her.

"Right," Cam says stupidly.

"I'm tired," Erica says. "Like, really tired." She glances over at the clock; Cam follows her gaze, then blinks when she realizes it's almost four in the morning. "Come to bed?" Erica says.

Cam's so distracted thinking about losing that much time kissing Erica that it takes her a minute to process what Erica's said. "Oh."

"You don't have to," Erica says quickly. "Just, I mean - it would be nice?"

"Right," Cam says. "Okay. Sure. Yes." She stands up, offering Erica a hand. Erica's the one who leads them upstairs, though, curling around Cam when they lie down.

Cam thinks it might be safe, so she says, "I should've known you'd be clingy."

Erica laughs. "Go to sleep," she says, kissing Cam's neck.

Cam's so full of nerves she feels like she might explode, but somehow, she manages to fall asleep anyway. It feels like just a few minutes later when she opens her eyes, even though it's a little past eleven.

Erica is still curled around her; Cam's a little disgruntled, actually, to realize she's become the little spoon. When she stirs, Erica groans behind her and nuzzle her neck. "Morning," she says quietly.

"Good morning," Cam says. She wants to sound confident, together, but her greeting ends up sounding like a question.

She can feel Erica smile against her neck. "Go shower. We've got plane breath."

It's an out Cam desperately needs, so she takes it, making a beeline for Erica's shower. She scrubs herself quickly, trying not to think of anything in particular; when she comes out, Erica's sitting on the bed, and tosses her some boxers and a t-shirt.

Cam takes them and turns around, getting dressed and trying to repress disappointment. She's sitting on the bed, going through her phone, when Erica comes out, dressed the same as Cam.

Cam looks up and blinks at her. She's aware of all kinds of weird things suddenly: the taste of mint in her mouth, the droplets of water running down Erica's neck, the sun slanting into the windows, lighting up already-drying gold highlights in Erica's hair.

She opens her mouth and, "You don't know how to dry yourself off, as usual," comes out.

Erica throws her head back and laughs, then says, "Come on," and plucks Cam's phone from her hands, putting it on the side table and straddling Cam's lap to kiss her.

Cam feels a rush of relief and kisses back, rolling them so Erica's under her. The sunlight's been creeping across the bed for awhile, and now it lights Erica up so much that Cam giddily thinks she looks like she's glowing, with her hair and her stupidly wide smile.

"I want..." Cam kisses Erica again, pushing Erica's shirt up enough to touch her stomach, her side, the curve of her breast. "Let me get you off," Cam says when she breaks the kiss.

Erica blinks at her and her smile gets impossibly wider. "Yeah, okay," she says.

Cam kisses her again, then tugs the oversized t-shirt off. Erica's - really fucking hot like this. Her nipples are pink and hard, just a few shades darker than the flush that's made its way all the way down her chest, and her stomach is tight with muscle. Cam realizes, looking at her, that she's been doing her best not to look for...a long time.

"Cam," Erica says. There's just an edge of desperation there, and it sends a bolt of arousal through Cam. She swallows hard and then kisses Erica's collarbone, her chest, nuzzling her breasts and sucking her nipples as she tugs Erica's boxers down. Then there's just skin, so much skin, and she means to do this with more finesse but she ends up slipping a hand between Erica anyway.

Erica's the kind of wet that means she's been like this for awhile, and Cam groans against Erica's stomach as she slips a finger into her. She can mostly just smell soap, but as she kisses her way down Erica's stomach and then over her thighs, that smell turns into Erica, all around her.

Cam wants to tease Erica - she wants so much. But for now, she settles for licking around her finger, thrusting lightly as she drags her tongue up and circles Erica's clit. Erica's done the kind of lazy shaving Cam knows she applies to her legs, too, and it makes this seem even more real, knowing Erica didn't plan it, knowing Erica was as unsure as Cam about where this was going.

There's not much room for uncertainty now, Cam thinks. She licks Erica's clit again, harder this time, as she fucks her. Erica's making noise again, breathy gasps and moans that Cam wants more of. Erica's as easy with this as she is with everything else; she's thrashing and saying, "Cam, Cam, Cam," before long, moving so much that after a second's consideration, Cam throws her free arm arm over Erica's hips and presses her hard into the mattress, holding her still as she keeps eating her out.

"Oh, God," Erica says. "God, Cam - Cam." She comes like that, babbling, one hand tight on Cam's head. Cam licks her through it, then looks up, licking her lips.

Erica's staring at her with wide eyes. "Jesus. Get up here," she says, tugging at Cam's shirt.

Cam obeys, and Erica kisses her, wrapping her legs around Cam's waist to hold her close. Cam's into it, she really is, but she's also desperate for friction, any friction. So she bears down on Erica, pushing her into the bed until Erica says, "Oh God, take your shirt off, come on," and tugs at Cam's boxers.

Finesse is done for, but that doesn't matter, because soon enough she's back to kissing Erica, their breasts pressing together, and Erica's reaching down to finger her.

Cam's done this with Erica in the room, choking back noise and hoping Erica doesn't notice the movement. Now, though, she can be as noisy as she wants, can grind down greedily on Erica's hand and says, "More, come on, Staal, harder," until she loses the ability to say anything at all and is coming against Erica's hand.

Cam can generally go for more than one round, but right now she's exhausted, and when she runs a hand down Erica's body, Erica shivers but doesn't say anything. So they lie together for awhile, sweat drying and breathing slowing, Cam stroking a hand up and down Erica's side slowly.

Finally, Cam can't resist leaning in and kissing Erica again. Erica smiles into the kiss. When they pull apart again, she says, "So much for the shower," and laughs her stupid dorky laugh.

"You say that now," Cam says. "We have all day."

Erica smiles. "Yeah?"

"Hell yeah," Cam says, and kisses Erica again before rolling away. "Right now, though, I'm getting breakfast. You can come or not."

"I already did," Erica says. Cam's treated to the dulcet tones of Erica laughing at another one of her own jokes as they go downstairs. She tries to look annoyed, but all the smiling probably ruins it.

As their eggs are cooking and their coffee's brewing, Erica backs Cam against the counter and kisses her again. Cam is - Cam is really, really fucking determined to make this a thing, after denying she wanted it for so long. And it looks like Erica's on board.

Cam's won more than one thing this summer, she thinks, and tangles a hand in Erica's shirt, holding her close.